Franchise Players?

There is much to say about Social Distortion these days--starting with the welcome news that leader Mike Ness apparently wasn’t blowing smoke nearly two years ago when he promised that the band’s long-aborning new album, “White Light, White Heat, White Trash,” would not be just another Social Distortion album but the Social Distortion album. We’ll have more to say when the record--the Orange County band’s first in 4 1/2 years, finally appears in September.

But meanwhile, we can say that the new material, as heard Sunday at Hootenanny ’96 here, is distinguished by Ness’ broader, frequently more tender vision. After four previous albums telling the stories of his own tumultuous life, Ness has gained the insight to make some mature and moving conclusions about life in general.

Among the five new songs played Sunday was the magnificent “When the Angels Sing,” which casts Ness in the role of a modern Job, questioning God about the rottenness in the world and stopping just short of tragicomical impertinence:

At last we meet again, dear God . . .

The funerals are nicer when we know you’re there.

There has been no change in style: SD is still based on Ness’ chesty, foghorn voice (with a promising bit of higher-range plaintiveness finding its way into the dramatic chorus of the new “Dear Lover”), his knack for strong melodies both in vocal parts and guitar riffs and the four-man ensemble’s relentless attack both at high speed and middling tempos.

The Hootenanny outing was the band’s first concert in more than a year, not counting unannounced warmup shows last week at the Dragonfly in Hollywood and Linda’s Doll Hut in Anaheim. The main drawback Sunday was an in-and-out mix on Ness’ guitar, which robbed many of his solos of the Neil Young-like bite and presence that are a big part of the band’s live appeal.

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The show featured new drummer Chuck Biscuits, whose past credits include the punk bands DOA and Black Flag and the metal act Danzig. He brought greater syncopation and acceleration to SD’s sound, along with a strong visual presence with his intense, whiplash playing style.

The 1988-vintage “Prison Bound” was the set’s highlight. It’s a wrenching song that, unfortunately, becomes more pertinent with each passing year given the citizenry’s hunger for imprisoning people such as Ness’ own younger self--a brawling, thieving heroin addict who caught breaks from the system in the early- and mid-’80s and saved himself, but who might have struck out for good under today’s rules of three-strikes incarceration.

“I may never know any other way,” Ness’ agonized habitual criminal half sobs, half growls on the chorus, bringing home the human loss in each throw-away-the-key outcome.

Introducing “Bad Luck,” Ness bragged about winning some money recently at cards. With one of punk rock’s strongest catalogs now augmented by new material at least equal to past peaks, Social Distortion goes into any performance dealing from a stacked deck.