POP MUSIC REVIEW : Warren Zevon, Role Model? : Rock’s excitable boy favors the raucous at the Coach House. The Odds, also on the bill, improved under his influence.

“Mr. Bad Example” may be Warren Zevon’s new nickname (it’s the title of his latest album), but he didn’t live up to it Thursday night at the Coach House.

Instead, Zevon came off as Mr. Good Influence. The ones being influenced were the four members of the Odds, a young Canadian group that has been touring for two months as Zevon’s warm-up act and back-up band.

In a 40-minute opening set, the Vancouver-based Odds brimmed with pure-pop potential founded on skillful playing and state-of-the art harmonies. But the quartet also was a little tentative and fastidious, despite some glorious singing.

That problem was taken care of after Zevon arrived and led the Odds down a path of healthy aggression.

Zevon has made a habit of shaking things up since he emerged in 1976 on a Los Angeles rock scene that was becoming infamous for slickness and ceaseless introspection. He appeared as a rabble rouser whose tough sound, jaundiced irony, and sometimes bizarre lyrical conceits were a refreshing departure from the sober-and-sensitive outlook that at the time defined such scene-setters as Jackson Browne and the Eagles. Zevon also earned a reputation in the ‘70s as a prodigious substance abuser and wild man--habits that he overcame in the early ‘80s.

Middle age apparently hasn’t mellowed Zevon, who recently turned 45. Maybe hanging out with younger rockers helps. A few years ago, Zevon had some bruising, garage-style fun collaborating with R.E.M. ( sans Michael Stipe) on “Hindu Love Gods,” a rough-hewn stomp through cover tunes ranging from Robert Johnson blues classics to Prince’s “Raspberry Beret.”

With the Odds, Zevon kept the emphasis on toughness, albeit with a considerably more practiced playing approach than he took with R.E.M. He divided his 16-song set about evenly between nuggets from his first three albums and material from his post-’87 recording comeback.

He kept most of the old stuff interesting by opening up the arrangements, using them as takeoff points for stormy instrumental stretches. And it was in those stretches that the Odds got to show their mettle. Although Zevon didn’t really exploit the Canadians’ three-way harmonies, he coaxed from them an instrumental freedom and force they hadn’t provided on their own.

Zevon led by example, starting with an extended, edgy guitar solo during “Play It All Night Long,” one of three oldies that began his show. Zevon, originally known as a piano player, spent a five-year stretch without a record deal during the ‘80s playing solo concerts primarily on guitar. He has emerged as a pretty capable electric lead player.

The lyrics to “Play It All Night Long” have all the cruel, hard-bitten cynicism of a homicide detective who has been on the beat too long, as Zevon exposes as a myth the notion that rural living is somehow ennobling. But his concluding guitar solo introduced a crying, elegiac tone, without dulling the song’s lacerating edge. It suggested that there is an element of pain in exploding cherished illusions.

Zevon let the Odds take over on the next song, “Poor, Poor Pitiful Me,” stepping aside between verses while they steadily built up intensity. Later, Zevon and the Odds would combine to make “Boom Boom Mancini” sound as tense and brutal as a song about boxing should be. “The name of the game is be hit and hit back,” goes the key line; the playing was fully illustrative. Leonard Cohen’s conspiratorial “First We Take Manhattan” received similarly rough treatment.

Not everything was played with guitars a-blazing. Zevon changed instruments, and moods, for a classically tinged synthesizer and digital piano introduction to “Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner.”

But the emphasis was clearly on the hard stuff. Consequently, the show failed to give a satisfying account of Zevon’s ballad side. He did play “Searching for a Heart,” an appealing love song featured in the film “Grand Canyon.” Zevon also finished with the hymnal “Mohammed’s Radio,” and he included a cover of Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic” (Zevon’s firm, but limited deep husk of a voice wasn’t about to vie with the original). But he never established a quieter mood as a counterpoint to the show’s raucous main current.

“Suzie Lightning,” a haunting, hurt-filled song from his latest album, would have been a lovely addition, especially with the Odds available to help it waft along on a cushion of harmony.

When he gives his most perverse instincts free reign, Zevon can be hard to stomach. The song “Mr. Bad Example” was a waste of time, with its pointless recitation of dirty deeds done dirt cheap. At least AC/DC rocked out on that theme; Zevon’s tune bounced along in a banal singsong. “Excitable Boy” was another not-so-clever gross-out that unfortunately has become a staple of Zevon’s repertoire.

In their own set, the Odds alternated between romantic pop songs and social commentaries, and the romantic stuff was invariably better. Steven Drake resembled a young Dylan with his shock of frizzed, uncombed hair--but in terms of look and sound, Art Garfunkel might be a more apt comparison. His sweet, reedy tenor gave “Eternal Ecstasy” and “Wendy Under the Stars” the immediacy and conviction of the best pop. Squeeze, Elvis Costello and the Beatles were points of reference for the Odds, but they never sounded like slavish copyists.

The Odds’ topical songs were catchy and clever and made cogent points, but they were somehow detached. It was as if the Odds had considered their issues well--greed being the chief evil indicted in their songs--but hadn’t internalized them, so that the outrage could seep into their guts. When Elvis Costello or Midnight Oil vent ire, it’s visceral--political wrong turned into personal affront.

As campaigners, the Odds were only slightly more fiery than Michael Dukakis; if they can’t do better than that, maybe they should stay off the stump. Or they should write stories that bear on issues, instead of merely commenting on them.

Still, with their winning harmony blend, already accomplished playing, and the intensity that showed during Zevon’s set, the Odds bear watching.