Despite their youth and singer's physical stature, band looms large with arena-style performance.

Addicted To Noise Contributing Editor Beth Winegarner reports:

SAN FRANCISCO -- Diminutive as he is, Days of the New singer Travis Meeks doesn't look like the sort of guy who could hold an audience.

But like such stars as the former Prince and Bruce Springsteen, what Meeks lacks in sheer physical presence, he makes up in charisma. He is intense, and perhaps a little close to the edge, like a madman on the verge of snapping.

During his band's 90-minute set at Great American Music Hall Tuesday, Meeks had spoken nary a word, barely leaving room between the songs for the audience to so much as applaud. The singer seemed to communicate, however, by other, more extreme means.

After howling out a particularly prescient version of "Where I Stand" ("Some of us play life/ Like it's a little board game ... Then one day you get it out/ And the pieces are broken/ That's where I stand"), Meeks sat his guitar down against the drum riser and stepped offstage. He returned wearing a pair of black batting gloves and carrying a baseball bat.

As the band jammed, Meeks took several practice swings at the errant guitar before pummeling it to pieces and distributing the splinters to the audience. Sure, the instrument, which had been giving him trouble all night, probably deserved it. But in the process, Meeks' dark presence and aggression broke more than a few preconceived notions about him and his band's moody music.

Lanky drummer Matt Taul was first to take the stage that night, followed by bassist Jesse Vest and guitarist Todd Whitener. The trio launched into an extended instrumental jam, building tension until Meeks, shirtless and clad in black leather pants, took the stage with his acoustic guitar strapped to his pale torso. He belted out the verses of a song not included on Days of the New's self-titled, debut album -- the first of many throughout the night -- before the band slipped deftly into the familiar tones of "Freak."

"I won't/ I can't/ I'm lost/ I'm a freak," Meeks howled. The crowd of dark-eyed teens and twentysomethings raised its arms in response.

Although both Meeks and Whitener play strictly acoustic instruments, Days of the New's set walked a delicate line between the dense, bluesy folk-rock of their recorded material and the more electric, grungy sound of their newer tunes.

When the group performed "Shelf in the Room", from Days of the New, Meeks' and Whitener's harmonies on guitar and voice were commanding; the lines Meeks sang through a megaphone ("Holding out/ Never hold in") were appropriately estranged. During "How Do You Know You?" a handful of lighters were raised above the heads of the crowd, at once a tribute to the group's roots and a mockery of overblown arena-rock.

"Face of the Earth" was all the more blistering live, with the band jamming on its intense melodies as Meeks moaned the downtrodden lyrics: "Close your eyes and I will help you pray/ Listen to God and tell me what he said/ I am the ground/ And the dirt/ Face of the earth." Meeks and Whitener gave a new treatment to the second verse of "Earth," chanting two separate verses over one another. The effect was mesmerizing.

Days of the New waited until the end of their set to deliver the song the audience knew best, the ubiquitous "Touch, Peel and Stand," (RealAudio excerpt) which has earned airplay on everything from metal to modern-rock stations. Its bluesy shuffle echoes Soundgarden's "Spoonman," but the lyrics are somewhere between the self-hatred of Alice in Chains and the misanthropy of Guns N' Roses.

The band owes a lot to both of those predecessors, and echoes of several legendary rock outfits -- Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, even Rush -- could be heard throughout Tuesday's phenomenal set. The group's new material toyed with many styles, from '70s-inspired funk-rock (which allowed the talented Vest to shine) to a few interludes bordering on arena-rock. During one piece, Taul drummed through a tricky rhythm. In another, the band made its instruments tick and ring like clocks, from Meeks' chiming guitar tones to Whitener using the body of his axe as a drum, producing some unusually sonorous beats as the singer hurled spoken-word attacks at an unknown target.

Much has been made of Days of the New's ages -- Vest is the oldest at 20 -- but these young men are mature beyond their years when it comes to musicianship. And when constant guitar woes forced Meeks to repeatedly leave the stage throughout the evening, his absences allowed the band to shine even without their charismatic frontman.

Meeks may be captivating, but he's no one-man band. [Mon., March 2, 1998, 9 a.m. PST]