Sass Appeal : The singer has a powerful, raspy voice and opens tonight for the Arc Angels at the Ventura Theatre.

Here comes Ms. Jordan, the one with the blonde bombshell looks and the memorable first name, Sass, she can’t account for. She should come up with a better answer because inquiring minds will ask again.

“I don’t know where that name came from,” said Jordan during a recent phone interview from the Arizona desert, where she sat sweating away after the tour bus broke down. “I’ve been asked that question 16,000 times. My parents are from England and ‘sass me’ is a term that’s used there; so I don’t know.”

She may not have the moves of Michael Jordan, but she probably sings better, with a powerful, raspy voice.

“I always could sing like that,” growled Jordan. “The more you sing, the better you get, and the more you hear, you just seem to pick stuff up. I’m not interested in borders or limitations. Music is the best way to communicate to a large amount of people at once. That’s why I took this job. I like to talk to people.”

Jordan will be walking that walk and talking that talk on the big stage at the Ventura Theatre tonight opening for the Arc Angels. The humid weather will return as Jordan makes young men sweat within a 30-mile radius of the venerable venue. Yet, incredibly enough, Jordan insists she has no groupie problems.

“I get letters, tons of letters, but (that’s all),” Jordan said. “I guess I’m pretty oblivious to a lot of stuff. The only problem about being a girl on the road is that you have to carry more stuff. You have to look decent all the time.”

Jordan has a new album, “Racine,” that just came out, plus an older one on an independent Canadian label, which you can find in the cutout bins if you’re persistent and lucky. It’s probably easier to find in Canada because “Tell Somebody” won a Juno Award in 1988.

“Racine” is a typical by-the-numbers corporate rock record. Jordan calls it “honest.” She has the Black Crowes’ swagger, the Pat Benetar lung power and the J. Geils’ attitude. And you know how every hard rock album--from Metallica to Guns N’ Roses--has the raging stuff, then unaccountably, a soulful ballad? So does Jordan--it’s “I Want to Believe.” Is there a one-ballad formula noted in the fine print of the standard rock ‘n’ roll contract?

“I think it’s just a question of boredom, after 11 rockers in a row,” Jordan said. “I’ve never done too many ballads, but it just seemed to work for this record.”

Born in England and raised in Canada after a brief stop in India, Jordan said she knew what she wanted to do by the time she was 10 years old--a time when many girls are still playing with dolls or salivating over “Tiger Beat.”

She’s been in bands for about 16 years now, or since she ran away from home at 15 to join a rock band called Sweet Thunder. She bailed out of Montreal and has lived in L. A. the last three years.

“All I know is that you don’t make any money unless you sell a million records and even then, you still have about 8,000 people to pay back,” Jordan said. “I get paid to sing, but that’s the thing I get to do the least because of all the bull that goes along with this business.”

Then again, working 40 minutes every couple of days isn’t exactly like the chain gang. It must be all that other stuff that’s so tough--such as interviews, schmoozing at the radio station, dealing with club owners, eating junk food, opening for another band.

“The Arc Angels are the greatest band I’ve played with,” said Jordan diplomatically. “You should only go to the show if you want to. I’d go because I like real performances. It’s not Las Vegas stuff. It’s a rock band and I’m the singer. I get 40 minutes, which is long enough for me.”