Rock In The Fast Lane

STEPHAN JENKINS rides his Triumph 955 motorcycle the way he lives:

Aggressively. Fast. Laughing as he goes.

"I'm crazy for motorcycles", declares the charismatic, peppery singer of the multi-platinum Bay Area band Third Eye Blind. "It's the only fun I have these days since I'm in the studio day and night. Anywhere you go in San Francisco is like an E-ticket ride. I've even taught my dog, Boo, how to ride on the gas tank."

Jenkins' obsession infuses the music of "Blue", the band's second album (due out Nov. 23) to the degree that they jokingly refer to it as "chopper rock". It is an apt description for the hard-charging rock'n'roll of "Blue", the follow-up to their 1997, 5 million selling eponymous debut.

Like that album, this one sizzles with dark sexual overtones and open-veined emotions. Earthy and haunted, it's a midnight ride through the human heart. You can almost hear the Triumph's engine rev.

I suggest that in order for me to really understand the "chopper rock" story, to get deep inside it, that Jenkins needs to take me for a ride. I almost immediately regret it.

Jenkins is sleep-deprived - the result of the final crushing weeks of recording and mixing. Plus, he's struggling against his confinment in the studio - unable to even visit his lady love, actress Charlize Theron - a man with some serious itches he can't scratch. He's dying to play hooky with this two-wheeled rocket ship parked on the sidewalk, and I just handed him a hall pass.

"Are you holding on really tight?" he girns sardonically, strapping on a rather tiny helmet. I have my hands primly on his shoulders. I answer in the affirmative.

Jenkins guns it, roaring onto Mission Street - and I nearly fall off the back. He laughs. "I don't think you're holding on tight enough."

I grab him around the chest this time, thinking of the millions of female MTV viewers who would kill to be in this position, and a chant a few Hail Marys. And we're off.

"I love the air this time of year," he yells backwards. "It's saturated with color, like Ektachrome. This city is addictive!"

He takes me on an affectionate tour of this favorite spots: Munroe Motors, his cycle supplier, on Valencia; Zazie on Cole, "breakfest heaven"; Tosca in North Beach, his favorite pool table; Blowfish Sushi on Bryant, and the red-hot Foreign Cinema on Mission.

When two or three lights in a row change to green, Jenkins opens the throttle, and we are practically airborne in a dizzying blast of speed. I try to peek over his shoulder at the speedometer but it appears to be inching toward 60. I can't look.

Safely back at the studio, Jenkins is amused at my quaking knees. "I didn't scare you, did I?"

I want to slug him but that would only appeal to his combative side.

Besides, I'd rather listen to more music.

"Blue" is splendid-capitalizing on the best elements of "Third Eye Blind" while exploring enough new territory to give it intrigue. Jenkins says this album was more collaborative than the first, which was mostly his own vision; this time guitarist Kevin Cadogan, bassist Arion Salazar, and drummer Brad Hargreaves had plenty of input on everything, including production. Jenkins said months ago that he wanted to make this year's "big rock album" - and he has. It starts off with a blast of heat with "Anything," probably the album's most straightforward tune, which finds the very gifted Cadogan at his most Edge-like. (When the band opened for U2, that revered ax man floored Cadogan by telling him he was a big fan).

Then comes "Walking with the Wounded", what Jenkins refers to as "a little song about sexual assault" but is in fact a towering Verve-like anthem, in which Jenkins anguishes over being unable to help a friend who was raped.

Similar is "Ten Days Late," about an unwanted pregnancy. It's orchestral but hard-rocking, with a strange twist: a Catholic boys' choir singing "baby daddy keep your boo."

"Never Let You Go" probably comes closest to "Semi-Charmed Life" (the single that propelled them to stardom) in terms of irresistible hooks.

Jenkins' vocals have matured since the first album and on this song he even does some potent lines of spoken word.

"Slow Motion" is an in-your-face ballad about murder and drug abuse. This one makes "Semi-Charmed Life", which was about methamphetamine addiction, seem like a walk in the park, with surreal refercnes to cutting cocaine with Draino.

"The point of the song is how violence desensitizes," says Jenkins. "This is a 'Pulp Fiction' kind of world; seductively violent."

"Deep Inside You" is both romantic and erotic, with big chords like the earlier "God Of Wine". "Camouflage" is the biggest stretch for the band - a flight of psychedelic fancy with shimmering overdubs and fizzy instrumentals.

And "Darwin", the closing song, is a heaping portion of Jenkins' sardonic humor, suggesting that aliens had sex with apes, "and the cut out on the date". Almost jazzy, it features orchestral bells and sitar and Salazar's brilliant bass work at the forefront.

"Arion went on this worldwide search this time so we had things like sitar, clavoline, octabar. But its all real - there's nothing from a can," says Jenkins proudly. "Basically, every keyboard we play on this record could have been played by the Beatles."

Boo, Jenkins' beloved female pitbull, trots into the studio and looks at him inquisitively. It's late.

"Do you want to go home?" he asks her in a kootchy-koo voice, and she starts wagging her tail furiously, knowing she's about to take a ride.

He perks up, too, knowing a cruise of The City's hills is moments away.

"San Francisco is always in my music," he says, weary but happy. "I'll never live any place else."
~ Jane Ganahl