No White Flag

With his bulging biceps and variety of tattoos, former Black Flag front man Henry Rollins can be quite the intimidating specimen. He screams more than he sings, succumbs to occasional fits of macho bluster and liberally peppers his speech with four-letter expletives. And let us not forget his history of violent outbursts.

But today, a partially mellowed Rollins is far from being a Terminator-like wrecking ball. The ambitious punk-turned-entrepreneur has built up quite a list of extracurricular activities. Since forming the Rollins Band in 1988, he’s written books, done spoken-word tours, produced albums, acted in films and served as a consumer pitchman. Fifteen years ago, he founded his own record label and publishing house, called 2.13.61 (his birth date).

Yet despite such accomplishments, Rollins has trouble shaking his one-dimensional image. He’s still perceived by some as a big, dumb lug.

“Even now, people will look at me and go, ‘Wow, you’ve read Dostoevsky, Camus and Hemingway’ . . . like I’m some moron who can’t even spell his own name,” he said during a recent phone interview from his home in Hollywood. “It’s baffling. I’m no rocket scientist, but I’m far from stupid.”

While others grew up watching sitcoms, Rollins found a literary lifestyle more to his liking.

“We just didn’t watch TV in my household, and I guess I’m a lot like my mom,” Rollins said. “I’ve always been into books. . . . I read voraciously and listen to music all the time. I started writing to keep myself company, and before long, it was the type [of] thing where your journal becomes your friend.”

That’s not to say Rollins didn’t experience the usual anxiety, confusion and boredom of youth. His parents divorced soon after he was born, and he attended a strict private school while growing up in Washington, D.C. Rollins spent one semester in college before going to work full time as a manager at an ice-cream parlor.

To endure his dead-end job, Rollins immersed himself in punk rock and its fierce lifestyle. He frequented clubs and slam-danced to the aggressive soundscapes of Bad Brains and Teen Idols.When fights broke out, you’d likely find Rollins in the mix.

Beginnings of ‘Hard Core’ Music

After a brief stint with his first band SOA (State of Alert), Rollins went to Los Angeles in the summer of 1981 to join Black Flag. Led by Rollins and founder Greg Ginn, the group emerged as one of the West Coast’s most influential underground acts. A precursor to grunge, the dark, heavy Black Flag merged metal and punk into what became “hard core.”

Still, Rollins longed for additional forms of self-expression. He gave his first spoken-word performance in 1985 when he was invited to participate in a poetry reading at the now-defunct Lhasa Club in Hollywood.

“Harvey Kubernick was putting on shows that mixed poets and performance artists,” recalled Rollins, who begins a monthlong spoken-word tour Thursday night at the Galaxy Concert Theatre in Santa Ana.

“You could do anything but [play] music, and it made for a highly eclectic, sometimes erratic evening. The atmosphere was very supportive. . . . It was kinda like the ‘Gong Show,’ where you got applause no matter what you did.

“I did 20 minutes that first night. . . . I told stories about these Samoan gangs that liked [Black Flag] and came to our rehearsals in Long Beach. During breaks, they would walk us down to the corner liquor store [to protect us] because it was such a scary neighborhood.”

Rollins’ one-man show can be self-indulgent and wordy, but he’s often endearing and amusing. Admittedly no comedian, he’s more of a philosophical storyteller seeking to touch a common nerve with his audience.

His two-disc “Think Tank,” released last year on DreamWorks, roams from angry rants about airport annoyances to a true, lump-in-your-throat story of Rollins’ visit with an Australian teenager dying from leukemia.

“I have no aversion to stand-up; it’s just not something I could ever do,” said Rollins, who also will do his “Spoken Word” show in L.A. every Wednesday in March at Luna Park.

“I’m story-, rather than shtick-, driven. I’m an observer . . . just a guy telling you about myself, the things I’ve been going through and what I’ve seen. I try to take anger and have everyone laugh at it. You know why people laugh? Because they identify with you, and sharing my experiences is something that’s easy and honest for me to do.”

Rollins has had small acting parts in several movies, including “The Chase,” “Lost Highway,” “Johnny Mnemonic” and the current “Jack Frost,” starring Michael Keaton. He’s also appeared in ads for the Gap, Nike, Saturn and General Motors.

Similar to Courtney Love, Rollins has stained his indie credentials by rubbing elbows with the Hollywood elite. Rollins said that he’s not surprised by the backlash from old-school punks; still, he argues, the reaction is misguided.

“I get negative feedback whenever I do a movie or commercial. . . . I got hate mail after that ‘Gap’ photo of me appeared in Rolling Stone,” Rollins said. “They say . . . ‘You sold out!’ But you know what? I don’t mind pulling those punk rockers’ chains. If you told me you’d turn down six figures a year, I’d call you a liar. Well, I’m not a liar.

“Anyone who would be alienated by what I do is not working for a living. I came from a $3.50-an-hour mentality . . . and a lot of people I was in bands with are now broke. I am not going out like that. But neither am I selling out. I was offered $350,000 to do a Japanese whiskey ad, but I passed. I not only don’t drink alcohol, I think it’s a bad idea for anyone. So how can I [endorse] a bottle of booze?”

‘Give Something Back’ to Heroes

Rollins invests much of his industry windfall into his recording and publishing company, he says. Big corporate dollars, he adds, allow him to sign worthy acts having little potential for profit.

“I lose money on their stuff because they don’t appeal to the mainstream,” he said, “But that’s OK. I do it because these guys are heroes to me.”

“I invest in other artists as a way to show my respect . . . to give something back to those who inspired me--and who keep me real. I’ve just been luckier financially. But we’re all struggling and striving to scratch it out. Man, we’re in the trenches, and I’ll fight like hell to pull my fellow soldiers over the wall.”

Since the demise of Black Flag in 1987, Rollins has recorded eight full-length albums under the Rollins Band moniker. Full-throttle, metal-tinged rock has defined the group’s sound, while anger, despair and loneliness have been recurring themes.

By contrast, last year’s “Come In and Burn” marked a subtle yet significant step forward for the veteran quintet. Instead of directing rage at others, lyricist Rollins looks inward on several revealing tracks, including “The End of Something” and “On My Way to the Cage.”

“There are a lot of Rollins Band songs I simply cannot sing anymore,” declares Rollins. “Is it because I’m a fake? No. I’m 38 now, and when a woman dumps me, I don’t punch holes in the wall and call her ugly names. I try and understand her . . . and look at how I might have failed.

“I’m trying to grow; I’m not interested in being 22 again. I’m letting my hair turn gray and the tattoos fade. . . . I mean, look at [Bruce] Springsteen and that receding hairline of his. He refuses to cover it up. Man, I admire those who are willing to grow old gracefully.”

* Henry Rollins’ “Spoken Word” is Thursday at the Galaxy Concert Theatre, 3503 S. Harbor Blvd., Santa Ana. 8 p.m. $16.50-$18.50. (714) 957-0600.