Ness Leaves the Mosh Pit to Sing of Love

Before Mike Ness became so incorrigible that his father kicked him out of the house at 16, he was still subject to such standard disciplinary measures as being put on restriction.

No meeting his buddies at the park for a round of boozing and drugging or a trip to the movies. Just a solitary, boring night at home, the worst thing that could happen to a restless 14-year-old.

And what would Ness do while grounded in his Fullerton bedroom? He lingered a moment over the memory during a recent interview at a Costa Mesa health-food restaurant, then shifted in his seat and laughed.

“Cry,” he said.

Not tears of remorse, he hastened to add, but of frustration and rage.

By the time he was 17 and subject to restriction no more, Ness had formed Social Distortion. Frustration, rage and the exhilaration of breaking polite society’s rules stoked what became Orange County’s most respected and resilient punk-rock band.

After a nasty bout of heroin addiction that threatened to land Ness in prison or the graveyard during the mid-1980s, his more mature reflections on the psychology and consequences of growing up angry and out of control dominated the band’s music, an aggressive, throbbing but always tuneful sound that benefited from Ness’ absorption from an early age with classic rock and roots music.

But as Social Distortion, formed in 1979, headed toward the 20-year mark, Ness once again found himself feeling restricted.

His answers, this time, were to make his first solo album, the just-released “Cheating at Solitaire,” and to form a non-punk band to take on the road for a series of shows that include stops at the Coach House in San Juan Capistrano and El Rey Theatre in Los Angeles.

Folk, country and blues dominate “Cheating at Solitaire.” Ness figures that should come as no surprise to Social Distortion’s large cult audience (which has bought 280,000 to 500,000 copies of each of the band’s three ‘90s studio releases). The band repertoire includes some swaggering blues-informed numbers and more than a few excellent country songs done with a roar instead of a twang.

Bruce Springsteen, a Social D fan, adds a duet vocal on “Misery Loves Company,” a wired rocker that states the album’s core theme of loneliness as the underside of a headlong quest for freedom.

Ness’ nasal, foghorn voice, so often deployed to promote his swaggering, hard-case persona, actually cracks into sobs of helplessness on a lovelorn weeper.

“Social Distortion is pretty one-dimensional,” he said. “You start on volume 10 and end that way. It’s a great, high-energy show, but I’ve been doing it for 20 years. It was frustrating, because I wanted to expand. Why couldn’t I sing a love song?”

*

Of course, nothing but the mosh pit denizens’ narrow expectations was stopping Ness from singing as many love songs as he could muster from 1979 to ’98.

“A lot of those restrictions maybe were self-imposed,” he said. “Maybe I just wasn’t ready. It’s hard to write a love song without it being corny.”

Yet “Rest of Our Lives,” which would have stood out on one of Rod Stewart’s grand early albums, and “If You Leave Before Me,” which meditates on love, mortality and the implications of living in the here-and-now without any guarantees of a hereafter, are anything but corny.

So what does he do when he’s trying to set the mood for one of those tender ballads and somebody yells out for some volume-10 burner from the early ‘80s?

Ness, who thrives on confrontation, laughed and responded: “I’ll tell ‘em: ‘You’re at the wrong show. You’re at the right place at the wrong time.’ ”

* Mike Ness plays Monday and Tuesday at the Coach House, 33157 Camino Capistrano, San Juan Capistrano, 8 p.m. $20-$22. (949) 496-8930. Also May 3-5 at El Rey Theatre, 5515 Wilshire Blvd., 8 p.m. May 3 and 4 sold out; May 5, $20. (323) 936-4790.