ALBUM REVIEWS : Something to Chew On From Bazooka

** 1/2 Bazooka, “Blowhole”, SST

** 1/2 Jack Brewer and Bazooka,”Saved From Death in the Dream World”, New Alliance

One of the worst forms of musicianly social climbing occurs when rock guys try on jazz garb and suddenly start acting and sounding as if they’ve discovered real culture. One need look no further than the hilarious cover of Bazooka’s new album to be assured that this particular trio of rock guys is in no danger of becoming stuck up through exposure to more exacting jazz traditions.

“Blowhole,” the all-instrumental band’s third release (after a 1991 self-marketed cassette and last year’s SST debut, “Perfectly Square”), follows Bazooka’s precedent of playing mainly for the fun of it.

Actually, Bazooka tries to have a bit too much fun: At 68 minutes, “Blowhole” could have been pared back to a more reasonable length without sacrificing anything vital.

The most dispensable items are two of the three cuts drawn from the jazz canon. The Charlie Parker composition, “Billie’s Bounce,” doesn’t come across with enough verve to justify its 8 1/2 minutes, and an even longer, album-closing take on Sonny Rollins’ “G-Man” is just an excuse for the band to blow off steam after the real points have been made.

A more pithy reading of Thelonious Monk’s “Rhythm-A-Ning” succeeds as a lighthearted notion, although the rhythm section is a bit muscle-bound for the task at hand.

If considered a jazz act, Bazooka doesn’t add up: Drummer Vince Meghrouni (pronounced muh-ROO-nee ) and bassist Bill Crawford are most comfortable pounding and churning like rock guys, not pirouetting and swinging like jazz players. Saxophonist Tony Atherton doesn’t have the tonal presence and amplitude of a first-rate jazz soloist, and his linear flow isn’t sufficiently daring or sweeping in its movement to make his improvisations the highlight of the party.

But taken as a rock band that uses jazz-influenced improvisational techniques (and records live without edits or overdubs), Bazooka makes lots of sense. Riff-construction is the band’s greatest strength; its original compositions string together juicy bits, each one to be savored through frequent repetition until it’s time to move on to a contrasting riff-based mood.

“The Procedure” reaches back to funky ‘70s jazz-fusion a la Herbie Hancock (although one or two other cuts in this mode become redundant). In “Painful Therapeutic Process,” the emphasis alternates between slow, heavy Black Sabbath cadences and shotgun rhythms borrowed from the Johnny Burnette/Yardbirds/Aerosmith hand-me-down “Train Kept A-Rollin’.”

The album peaks with “Bring On the Painkillers” (a wry bookend to “Painful Therapeutic Process”), in which brisk Latin currents and a surging bass riff similar to the Doors’ “Break On Through” provide the foundation for Atherton’s sharpest, most liberated blowing.

Here, the trio goes beyond its preoccupation with riff-building and soars as an ensemble into free flight. The 10 1/2-minute “Turkey Tenders” is another good, episodic piece in which a swaggering main current gets momentarily blocked by regal interludes, with a funky-blues shuffle thrown in to spark the homestretch.

Bazooka’s collaboration with Jack Brewer, a veteran punk singer (with Saccharine Trust) and garage rocker from Long Beach, was not only improvised, but also impromptu: According to the album notes, Brewer and Bazooka turned up at the same studio in 1992 to work on separate projects, and the singer-poet invited the trio on the spur of the moment to provide the backdrop for some spoken-word performances.

Given the unpremeditated nature of the session, which the album notes assure us lasted just an hour, the results are remarkably cohesive. Bazooka’s instrumental rhythms and dynamic shifts are a consistent fit for Brewer’s vocal cadences--and vice-versa.

Brewer’s words are thoughtful but not vivid; biblical allusions are frequent, and philosophical abstractions dominate. The best pieces are the pithiest, especially “No Lunch (for You, Jack),” in which sultry blues vamps and comical sax commentary flesh out Brewer’s wry reflections on the lofty artistic aspirations, and considerably less grand daily exigencies, that come with being a struggling poet (is there any other kind?).

It’s Brewer’s tone that sticks with you, more than his words. In a medium where haranguing and overheated declamation are common, Brewer manages to be both dramatically insistent and gentle . The performances are notable for the sheer humaneness that shines through, even if the images seldom grip.

(SST Records, P.O. Box 1, Lawndale, CA. 90260; (310) 430-7687; New Alliance Records, P.O. Box 1389, Lawndale, CA. 90260; (310) 430-6838.)

* Bazooka plays Dec. 17 at Que Sera Sera, 1923 E. 7th St., Long Beach, and Dec. 30 at System M, 213A S. Pine Ave., Long Beach.

Hear Bazooka, Brewer

* To hear a sample from Bazooka’s “Blowhole” album, call TimesLine at 808-8463 and press *5591. For Jack Brewer and Bazooka’s “Saved From Death in the Dream World,” press *5592.

Details on Times electronic services, A5

Going to Non-Extremes

** 1/2, Psychic Rain, “Never Was”, Greico Records

At a pop moment when young rock bands tend to see rewards in taking extremist stances both in attitude and musical approach, Psychic Rain is more attuned to a golden mean of pop-rock classicism.

On its self-released CD debut, the Orange County foursome shows enough all-around skill not to need to fall back on attitude. Instead, it leads with good melodies and the solid, openly emotional singing of Greg Stoddard, whose voice is reedy but packs a decent punch.

At times he recalls Hoodoo Gurus singer Dave Faulkner, or a less intense version of Graham Parker or Joe Jackson. Lead guitarist Brian Christopher Stewart etches each song with tasteful, varied colorations, and drummer Norm Antonini teams with bassist Patrick Shannon to form a crisp rhythm section; Antonini also is a valuable backup singer.

Without blatantly imitating any single influence, Psychic Rain falls into the mainstream of eager, even-tempered pop craftsmanship once occupied by the Hooters. Some raw and brooding touches suggest that the band, despite its uncommon polish, also wants a connection to the indie-rock movement.

Psychic Rain’s leading theme is that pop-rock perennial--the bewilderment of seeing good love go bad. The exception, “Windows,” tackles another familiar theme--domestic abuse. While offering no special insights, neither does it stumble on the common pitfalls of cliche, sensationalism and sentimentality.

All seven songs are well-wrought and thoroughly enjoyable while the CD spins. But Psychic Rain hasn’t yet achieved the distinctive lyrical voice or stylistic slant needed to make well-wrought music truly hit home. The band’s foundation for building toward that goal is certainly strong.

Hear Psychic Rain: To hear a sample from Psychic Rain’s “Never Was” album, call TimesLine at 808-8463 and press *5590.

Details on Times electronic services, A5