POP MUSIC REVIEW : All-Clear Signal for Galaxy Punk

Around 10:30 Sunday night, when veteran punk-rock band All emerged from the shadows without lead singer Chad Price, it seemed that the Galaxy Concert Theatre’s inaugural punk concert was doomed.

Neither of the two acts that preceded All had left favorable impressions, both lacking the depth to leave their own mark on the genre.

Indifference is not a word usually associated with the attitude of a punk crowd. Yet that’s how unmoved the audience became during sets by Cows and Rust.

Then, after a 20-minute delay as fans waited patiently for All to make a splash, lead guitarist Stephen Egerton walked onstage and declared: “Chad’s stuck on the freeway somewhere, but we’re gonna play anyway.”

His proclamation was met with a mixture of applause and groans from a crowd of about 250. But after carrying on gamely with Egerton singing lead on a couple of songs, the trio was joined by Price, who only quipped: “Hey, give me a break. I just woke up.”

Their tardy leader’s dubious entrance aside, All--formed from the ashes of the Descendents in 1988 by ex-Black Flag drummer Bill Stevenson--churned out nearly 90 minutes of frantic, powerful, pop-laced punk-rock.

Sure, they rocked hard and fast (“She’s My Ex”) and then harder and faster (“Uncle Critic”). But the versatile quartet, now based in Fort Collins, Colo., knows how to shift gears. The band slowed the pace occasionally, letting the lyrics come to the forefront.

That’s fortunate, because many of their songs require a careful ear, whether in concert or on “Pummel,” the band’s new major-label debut album for Interscope. Grappling with issues of abortion, restlessness, lost faith and self-destruction, All revealed many of its appealing layers during this generous, 26-song set.

The group combined the sharpness of Sublime with the howling intensity of Quicksand, hitting its peak with a striking encore of “Broken,” during which Price cried out these tortured lyrics: “How much can I hate? / Let me count the ways / Bend until I break.”

Void of imagination and personality, openers Rust served up 35 minutes of colorless thrash. Buried within a murky sound mix, vocalist john b’s constant shouting rendered the San Diego band’s lyrics indecipherable.

Equally frustrating, second-billed Cows stooped to stale theatrics to get its kicks. Far more annoying than provocative, lead singer Shannon Selberg’s contrived attempts at titillation included pulling an artificial foot from his crotch and simulating intercourse with his microphone stand.

*

Despite some feisty moshing in the open pit in front of the stage, the crowd was relatively tame during the Galaxy’s first foray into punk. No incidents of unruly behavior occurred during the 3 1/2-hour program, which should be good news for the venue’s management.

“We’re sticking our toe in the water with this show,” said Ken Phebus, concert director for Folgner Productions, which owns and operates the Galaxy, Coach House and Ventura Theatre.

“We haven’t done hard-core or punk, but now we’re taking a broader approach,” he said. “Gary [Folgner, the Galaxy’s owner] is willing to let me experiment with this one show, and we’ll see how it goes.”

Although security was increased slightly, Phebus said in a pre-show interview that he wanted the fans to feel comfortable and “not like they’re in a war zone.”

Added Phebus, who produced numerous punk shows in the mid-’80s for Fender’s Ballroom in Long Beach: “We want to provide a safe but fun atmosphere for this type of crowd.”