Commotions’ Cole Causes Barely a Stir

Few singer-songwriters can rely solely on their music to get their point across in concert. Neil Young is one rare example, typically interacting little with his audience yet still projecting a certain majestic presence. The Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Famer’s trunkload of powerful material alone is rich and diverse enough to keep us on the edge of our seats.

However, your mildly engaging, run-of-the-mill rocker needs something more, be it humor, wit, charm or some other endearing intangible. In the matter of Lloyd Cole, the key ingredient he can ill-afford to be without is personality.

Bringing new meaning to the term low-key, the British-bred, New York-based Cole was repeatedly in danger of fading away throughout most of his headlining set Friday night at the Galaxy Concert Theatre in Santa Ana. In fact, during one long stretch of similar-sounding tunes, the show threatened to become a snooze-a-thon.

Since first surfacing on the pop scene in 1984 as leader of Lloyd Cole & the Commotions, the mild-mannered singer-songwriter-guitarist has focused mainly on dark, cynical episodes of romantic turmoil. Influenced by Bob Dylan and Lou Reed, Cole aims to unravel some of life’s complexities with his character sketches and clever wordplay.

Over the years, he has hit the mark with a handful of tunes, including the jangly, dysfunctional “She’s a Girl and I’m a Man,” the self-effacing “Mr. Wrong” and the infectiously catchy “Lost Weekend.” Though just why Cole chose to exclude these A-list selections from Friday night’s program remains a frustrating mystery.

Fortunately, he did play his best composition, the Commotions-era “Perfect Skin.” In this compelling look at one woman’s excessive vanity, Cole takes the destructive forces of narcissistic self-absorption to new lows.

The only other highlights of his 75-minute set were two brand-new, yet-to-be-released selections. The dreamy, neo-psychedelic “That Boy” was introduced as “a single that should be out by March,” while “Past Imperfect” unveiled a snarling rocker with impressive guitar soloing from an unexpected source--second-billed Jill Sobule. The proficient picker moonlighted in Cole’s back-up band, which also featured longtime guitar sidekick Neil Clark, bassist Dave Derby and drummer Rafa Maciejak.

More characteristic of Cole’s uninspired show, though, was its dearth of fire. The material simply failed to draw the audience in. Too many songs were monolithic in tone and scope, rarely moving beyond a tiresome mid-tempo groove, and were grounded even further by Cole’s limited vocal range.

Thematic satisfaction also was rare. Religious imagery abounded with repeated references to Jesus, blasphemy and salvation. But they’re merely self-serving abstractions as Cole’s vaguely worded phrasing lacks the requisite context or detail to be truly meaningful.

Despite fronting the Commotions for nearly six years--plus releasing four subsequent solo albums--Cole suffers from an identity crisis. What are his defining characteristics, the kind that make the great ones unique? No one fires venom-laced arrows like the acid-tongued Graham Parker, or spins a yarn quite like Dylan, Randy Newman or Bruce Springsteen.

With the generic Cole, you’re left with little sense of who he is, or what his dreams might be.

In fact, Cole could learn a thing or two from the charismatic Sobule. A natural onstage, her demeanor is chatty and confident, warm and gracious. The Denver-born, L.A.-based singer-songwriter-guitarist brought a welcome mix of enthusiasm and musical adventure to her well-received, 45-minute set. Who else could pull off an acoustic, bluegrassy version of the Snoop Doggy Dogg tune “Gin & Juice II?”

And follow a set list? Naahh. The rewards for Sobule’s spontaneity included David Bowie’s “All the Young Dudes,” a sassy bossa nova instrumental and--following one fan’s request--her own metaphorical tale of entrapment, “Houdini’s Box.”

Sobule sings with the same kind of high-pitched timbre as Cyndi Lauper, only don’t be fooled by that girlish voice. Predominantly autobiographical, her songs are mature and imaginative, often laced with complicated characters and surprising twists of fate. In one brand-new song about a school-girl crush ignored, both humor and pain converge as Sobule cries out at the object of her one-way affection: “I could break your ribs . . . but I can’t break your heart.”

After Sobule played solo for about a half-dozen numbers, Cole and his band (minus Clark) emerged for the remainder of Sobule’s set, adding firepower with a muscular version of “Bitter,” an emotionally charged selection drawn from her excellent 1997 release, “Happy Town.” Confronting feelings of jealousy, the song’s protagonist snaps: “I don’t want to get jaded/Petrified and weighted/I don’t want to get bitter/Like you.”

Sobule caused a minor stir with her 1995 hit song, “I Kissed a Girl.” It was this downright charming ditty about two experimental females that rode to Cole’s rescue after his first encore, the dreary, ill-timed “Are You Ready to Be Heartbroken?” Sobule revived the subdued crowd with the infectious “I Kissed a Girl” and shared a poignant moment as well with this heartfelt lyric: “I kissed a girl, won’t change the world/But I’m so glad, I kissed a girl.”

Following a pretentious set reeking of jam-cum-prog rock by Santa Ana’s Lunatic Zoo, third-billed On a Dare served up a curious blend of sexual tension and mainstream rock ‘n’ roll.

Although the Costa Mesa-based quintet offers little musically to get excited about, titillating lead singer Dawn Lucas’ spunk and powerful set of pipes are worthy of attention. Now if the young band can produce more numbers like the promising “Rise Quietly,” it just might be worth keeping an eye on.