Pop Music Review : Hey, Isaak: Is This ‘Grease’ or Rock? : Throughout the Coach House show, the singer and his mostly competent band deliver one unfortunate ‘50s cliche after another.

The unmistakable aroma of cheese was apparent from the moment that modern-day rockabilly Chris Isaak took the spotlight to the tune of Duane Eddy’s “Rebel Rouser” on Thursday at the Coach House.

Bedecked in a sense-assaulting suit of tawdry flower print that would have looked more at home on an aging Long Island housewife, Isaak gave early, advance notice of his performing muse. The man earns his living by exploiting his quite pretty face and even prettier voice in a chintzy, ‘50s-retro mode.

Well-studied camp was the order of the evening, as Isaak and his sharkskin-uniformed, hair-spray-stiff band pulled out all the stops at evoking early rock ‘n’ roll frenzy. Throughout the night, one unfortunate performance cliche after another was flaunted before the audience ad nauseam.

Guitars were thrust forth like phallic spears by Isaak, guitarist Greg Arrequin and bassist Rollie Salley. Spine-defying backbends were employed by saxophonist Johnny Reno, whose very name elicits ‘50s B-movie imagery. Drummer Kenny Dale Johnson pounded his snare with such exaggeration that one couldn’t help but wonder whether he was attempting to burst through its head--which is exactly what happened eventually.

The oldest axiom in the book is that if you make it look really hard to do, you must be rockin’--and Isaak and company proved more than up to the task of grunting and grimacing with the best of ‘em.

*

The sound they created, however, was at odds with the histrionics, and Isaak’s group was for the most part competent and tasteful. But it was little more than those adjectives would imply, so it was hard to understand the thinking behind the unfortunate theatrics, which usually are reserved for teeny-bopper-marketed bands or self-indulgent soloists of whatever stripe.

The rhythm section was tight and quite effective. Arrequin proved a subtle and stylish guitarist, at home with a chooglin’ swamp boogie, but really excelling on a plaintive ballad.

Reno, the most vulgar showman of the lot, played nothing but squawking, Sax 101 solos of two and three notes, despite his aggressive and quite annoying flailing.

For his part, Isaak is possessed of pipes that soar with rare beauty, moving with ease and grace from an ocean-deep baritone to a clean and remarkably sustained falsetto.

But Isaak would be well-served by leaving his Roy Orbison-meets-Elvis fixation behind, as no one else will ever cop those good ol’ boys’ styles to better effect than the originators.

*

Early in the evening, Isaak announced that he would perform a host of new songs “because I love you,” he said. The sold-out crowd didn’t seem to care whether what he played was new, old or in between, as it roared and cheered every number Isaak pulled out of his hat.

Particularly well-received was a gorgeous adagio version of his breakthrough hit “Wicked Game,” in which Arrequin’s shimmering guitar tone and Isaak’s mournful vocal delivered chills down the spine.

The Bo Diddley-esque “I Love You, I Need You, I Quit,” in which Isaak indulged in orgiastic, Elvis-borne moaning, was met with squeals of such glee from his female fans that might one might have believed Presley himself had just entered the building.

There’s no denying the man’s large and loyal legion of supporters, even though Isaak is a derivative, if gifted, singer, his band (mostly) tasteful if run-of-the-mill, and his show crassly inappropriate.