A Blaster From the Past

Like most musicians, Phil Alvin has endured his share of rejection, long hours, dead-ends and sacrifices.

In Alvin’s case, though, the frustrations involved math, not music. And his academic adventure has a lot to do with why his band, the Blasters, receded from the forefront of the L.A. rock scene after ruling its niche through the first half of the ‘80s.

In 1986 Alvin started dividing his attention between the Blasters and his other passion, a thesis in the field of set theory and mathematical semantics. His proposal had been turned down by UCLA years earlier, but new contacts in the discipline renewed his drive, and after six years at Cal State Long Beach, he had his vindication--a master’s degree and acceptance to UCLA’s doctoral program.

“The last two years, 1991 and ‘92, I literally thought that I perhaps was just out of my [expletive] mind,” says the singer and rhythm guitarist, who will lead the current Blasters lineup at the House of Blues on Saturday.

“I won,” he continues. “I lost my girlfriend, things got torn down, but I beat mathematics. I don’t think for the rest of my life I can ever question myself.”

The Blasters came straight outta Downey in the late ‘70s with an intoxicating mix of blues, vintage rock ‘n’ roll, country, folk gospel and other bedrock idioms. They marked their ambitious territory right off the bat in their anthem “American Music”: “It’s a howl from the desert / It’s a scream from the slums / It’s the Mississippi rollin’ to the the beat of the drums.”

Led by Phil and his guitarist-songwriter brother, Dave Alvin, the Blasters joined X and Los Lobos in a triumvirate of Los Angeles bands that combined classic forms with contemporary attitude and intensity. The Blasters released a string of albums on Slash Records that not only earned critical acclaim but also made the sales charts.

But with Phil immersed in his studies, instability set in. Dave left the band in 1986 for a stint in X and a solo career. His replacement, Hollywood Fats, died of a heart attack at age 32 near the end of the same year.

As Alvin kept the band going as a touring entity to finance his studies, the changes mounted. Former X member Billy Zoom, Greg “Smokey” Hormel (now with Beck) and L.A. rocker James Intveld passed the lead guitar in succession before Keith Wyatt anchored the position 2 1/2 years ago. Original bassist John Bazz is still there--he’s been playing with Alvin for almost 30 years now--and the incumbent Jerry Angel is the group’s third drummer.

Considering that the Blasters’ last album, “Hard Line,” came out in 1985, that’s a lot of turnover for little output.

But with the dust settling on his schoolbooks and music once more the focus, Alvin, 45, is gearing up to end the drought. The Blasters will soon start recording a new album for the independent HighTone Records.

Pacing in the cool night air in the parking lot of a Marina del Rey rehearsal facility, the singer talks with the same intensity and nervous energy he’s just displayed during a rehearsal. Much of the material has been ready for years, but for Alvin, nailing it down is a long process.

“Once I change personnel, I can’t just go make the record,” says Alvin, who released solo albums in 1986 and ’92. “Because we have to play and develop a style as a band, otherwise it’s just Phil Alvin & the Blasters, and it doesn’t mean anything. . . .

“I swear to God--I’m a good jiver, but I’m not a good liar--these four guys including myself are playing so good, are mixing so well, are reading each other so well. . . . All of these musicians are in such prime condition. I hit three octaves in C at 43 years old for the first time in my life. . . . I can sing better now than I ever have been able to.”

Though the Blasters may have sowed the seeds for the current revivals of big band and jump blues forms, Alvin doesn’t have much use for trends. In fact, his agitation builds and he takes on the cadence of a street-corner preacher as he condemns the evils of categorizing musical styles.

“These names, they’re fashion names. Elvis Presley and Arthur ‘Big Boy’ Crudup both sang ‘That’s All Right Mama’ with an electric guitar and drums and a stand-up bass, and one of them is rockabilly and one of them is blues? You telling me they got a different name for that music? You’re telling me what color the singer is. It’s got nothing to do with the music. . . . It’s elitism, it’s racism that gives us names for ‘em, but they don’t have any meaning to music. It’s ridiculous.”

Alvin’s passions and obsessions run strong, whether the object is music or math (and there is that uncompleted doctoral program hanging around, waiting for the right time). As difficult as it’s often been--”one’s getting up at 6 a.m., and the other’s just going to bed”-- reconciling the two has been his aim from the start.

“I’ve always played music and done math,” he says. “My mother told me, ‘You have to make a decision, you can’t be a jack of all trades and a master of none.’ I said, ‘How about jack of some, master of some?’ ”

BE THERE

The Blasters, Saturday at the House of Blues, 8430 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood, 10 p.m. $21. (213) 848-5100.