That Same Old Tune

With his stage decked out like a space-age bachelor pad, LL Cool J was ready for some “Loungin’ ” (as one of his song titles put it) Friday night at the Freedman Forum Concert Theatre.

But in playing the part of a modern Lothario, the veteran rap star left out any sense of wit, suavity and self-irony--the qualities needed to give the Don Juan hang some flair.

Instead, LL’s raps covered a range of interests about as wide as a bull seal’s. Dominate the competition, then enjoy the sexual spoils of leading the pack: That’s what life’s all about in the animal kingdom, male division, and it’s what concertizing was all about for LL (a.k.a. James Todd Smith).

After an unrivaled run of 11 years in rap’s commercial upper reaches (all six of his albums, including the current “Mr. Smith,” have gone platinum), “Uncle L,” as he was introduced, wasn’t about to risk any of that accumulated star capital by being daring. His 37-minute performance (plenty long in this setting, which employed just a DJ rather than the live band of his 1993 tour) stuck to those well-tested basics: ego-asserting action and sex.

The best of the action sequences made clear why LL has been near the top for so long.

He was an imposing figure, large and athletic as he stalked the stage with body bobbing and genuflecting to the beat, his free left hand whipping the air like a jockey down the home stretch. And his clear, booming voice remains one of the most trenchant in rap.

It all came together for “Rock the Bells” and “Mama Said Knock You Out,” two of his signature hits. These fast, furious numbers turned the notion of “rocking the house” from a cliched boast into an undeniable reality. Barking “Mama Said Knock You Out” with the authority and ire of a particularly ornery drill sergeant, he brought the house of about 1,200 to a figurative climax.

Unfortunately, the many raps devoted to literal descriptions of climaxes were tired and ordinary, as LL trotted out all the cliches of studly stagecraft.

The key point of interest was his crotch: When not rubbing or pointing toward same, in sync with the intent of his lyrics, he was thrusting it to feign intercourse (once with a white shag carpet, another time with LeShaun, a petite female guest rapper who joined him on a pas de deux rendition of his current hit, “Doin’ It.” The song matches Cole Porter’s “Let’s Do It” in general intent, if not charm).

As for “I Need Love,” Cool J’s own legitimate contribution to pop’s tradition of fine, ardor-filled balladry, his one-track-mind delivery shriveled all its romantic longing and substituted unvarnished crudeness.

So who cares if romance is dead? Not LL’s female fans, who greeted virtually every hormonally charged lyric or gesture with excited, high-pitched shrieks.

Dotted here and there in LL’s catalog are tracks that aspire to more than proclaiming prowess at the microphone and in the boudoir (or, as one song he performed has it, in the back seat of his Jeep). He is capable of social commentary or of talking about spiritual concerns.

But with “Mr. Smith,” and onstage, he seems to have done the old Hollywood arithmetic and factored entertainment down to its reliably salable lowest common denominators.

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MoKenStef (for Mo, Kenya and Stefanie), a new R&B; vocal trio from Los Angeles, left the crowd wanting more by beating it after just 12 minutes in its second-billed set. Maybe the threesome decided rightly that singing to canned backing tracks, the on-the-cheap norm for R&B; acts seeking their first exposure, just isn’t worth more than a perfunctory appearance.

Domino opened with easygoing raps about easygoing good times. His molasses-like drawl gave a wry, amiable tinge to the hit “Getto Jam” and other songs about hanging out in his Long Beach ‘hood.