Weekend Reviews : Pop : Hot Scene at Club Lingerie

Club Lingerie looked as if it were on fire Friday night as thick smoke poured out the front door and onto Sunset Boulevard. But in reality, it was just one of the many scene-setting side effects of the Crash Worship show inside.

The San Diego troupe, which combines the primal feel of pagan ritual with the pulsing hypnotics of a rave, offers one of the most compelling and risky shows around. Though the boom of several tribal drummers dominates its sound, Crash Worship’s music is simply a backdrop for its (and the audience’s) thrill-seeking antics.

Friday, fans dodged the flames of a roaming fire breather and the explosions of firecrackers, which produced so much smoke the group was barely visible. But the real show was on the dance floor, where audience members gyrated in packs as Crash Worship doused them with water, wine and bags of what appeared to be flour.

In masks and body paint, front men JXL and Jack Tarino howled over relentless beats and shards of mutated guitar noise. More obnoxious offstage members knocked people out of chairs and generally annoyed less-willing participants out the door.

While Crash Worship delivered a dazzling circus of danger and delirium far from the sterile grip of “civilized” rock, the band caters to the inhibited spectator itching to become a boundary-less tribe member.