1991 in REVIEW: SAN DIEGO COUNTY POP MUSIC : The Concert Scene Bucked the Trends : * Analysis: There was little to count on in this year’s pop industry except the drawing power of big-name groups and the struggles facing mid- and entry-level acts.

1991 was a strange year for the local contemporary music scene, one marked by changes that refused to conform to any sort of pattern. Mostly, one looked for signs that the current industry-wide slump--which, like the music-biz slowdown of a decade ago, is as much a product of creative stagnation as of the deepening recession--was trickling down to the San Diego market. And, sure enough, there were signs, most visibly in the concert market.

Although big-ticket mainstreamers such as Sting, INXS, Gloria Estefan, Robert Palmer, K.T. Oslin, Frank Sinatra, Neil Young, and Rod Stewart drew well, few major acts were automatic sellouts. Nevertheless, just as the Reagonomics that propelled this recession has favored the already-rich, selective concert-going in 1991 padded the wallets of the hyped, the hot and the handsome at the expense of marginal, exotic or connoisseur acts.

Contemporary-Christian-music heartthrob Michael W. Smith, for example, filled Symphony Hall with screaming ingenues in May, while the Bulgarian State Female Vocal Choir, which attracted a throng to its 1990 performance at the same venue, fared poorly in its 1991 reprise. Mediocre New Age composer and People magazine cover-boy Yanni virtually sold out his Symphony Hall appearance, but guitarist Eric Johnson, a musician’s musician, played to a number of empty seats in the same room.

Many other similar comparisons could be made. Matinee-idol-ish rocker Chris Isaak packed them in; rock innovator Todd Rundgren didn’t. Tin Machine, a band that could be billed as David Bowie and Those Other Guys, sold out in minutes; the Chieftains required a heavy, eleventh-hour promotional push to avoid what could have been an embarrassingly small turnout. And so on.

Just when one begins to settle on a causal relationship between sensationalism and brisk sales, however, Humphrey’s “Concerts by the Bay” series pulls the chair away. A canny, 10th-anniversary season mix of pop-jazz, nostalgia-pop, easy listening and comedy acts easily broke the venue’s attendance records, with 21 of the 52 relatively expensive shows selling out.

The Humphrey’s formula of palmy-balmy ambience and time- tested talent would seem to be recession-proof. That’s good news for Humphrey’s, but it’s also potentially scary in its implication that only a complete package of upscale comfort, aesthetically pleasing surroundings and familiar, non-threatening music can expect to consistently do well.

Prediction: Even if the economy gets worse in 1992, the evergreen superstars and newer platinum acts will probably remain a worthwhile risk for concert promoters. Mid- and entry-level artists, however, will have to be packaged in multiple-act shows in order to coax precious dollars from the average fan. Look for even more erstwhile “arena” acts to settle for gigs in medium-size clubs.

And speaking of clubs, the local circuit continued an evolution that began a couple of years ago when it suddenly became uncool to get liquored-up while dancing or listening to rock ‘n’ roll. Prodded with a feather for reasons why the nightclub business is on a downward spiral, many proprietors are singing, loudly in unison: the societal, law-enforced clampdown on drinking and driving is keeping people away from the watering holes.

Some club owners have responded to the loss of revenue by switching from live bands to cost-effective canned music or deejays--a development that scares the stuffing out of working musicians. Ironically, as steady work for Top 40 bar bands gets more scarce, the market for non-commercial original music is showing signs of opening up. Perhaps a sort of skewered logic is at work here: if it becomes less lucrative to cover radio and MTV hits, the resourceful musician might as well play his own material.

In the past year, a number of smallish venues have tried to provide an alternative to the glitzy, dance-and-drink club experience. Not coincidentally, most of these have followed a recent trend by emphasizing intimate, mostly acoustic music. La Mesa’s Village Emporium started the parade, and managed to pick up some of the slack on the local folk scene left by the April 15 closing of North Park’s Drowsy Maggie’s.

Then, in July, came Solos, a Solana Beach retreat where local rockers could unplug and play their tunes acoustically. Choice’s, on the Torrey Pines mesa, made official its series of Friday night concerts featuring local acoustic performers. Sandy’s, an all-original acoustic and electric venue in Encinitas, opens on New Year’s Eve.

Frankly, the results of these enterprises have been mixed. Attendance at Solos fluctuated wildly, and the venue is now dormant. Likewise, crowds at Choice’s vary greatly. But, taken together, these new venues have introduced a novel wrinkle to local music entrepreneurship: the concept of piggy-backing on existing business space (in the cases mentioned, restaurants) as a means of keeping overhead to a minimum.

We’ll know soon enough about the viability of the less-is-more quasi-club, but at least as an outgrowth of a rocky 1991, it is an experiment worth pursuing in the coming year.

It might sound cruel, but lingering economic woes might have a beneficial effect on a San Diego music scene still struggling for an identity. If the marketplace continues to force a scaling down of entertainment, the result could be a proliferation of intimate clubs where musicianship and communication supersede flash and all-obliterating volume.

In such milieus, musical solidarity is frequently born.