True Renaissance men are hard to come by in these times, but, in a particularly counterculture sense, "Falling" James Moreland is such a person. He sings, plays several instruments, and writes or co-writes most of the songs on The Big Jinx (SST Records), the eighth album from his band, the Leaving Trains. Indeed, one could say that James is the Leaving Trains, as he is the sole thread of continuity in the groups 14-year history. (The current lineup includes James, Sherry Puder, Dennis Carlin, and Jimmy Green.) James also writes about music, most evocatively for Flipside, Fiz, and other outlets. His day job is managing the tiny SST Superstore on Sunset Boulevard. And despite his own band's notoriety - they are infamous for onstage nudity and un-PC rhetoric - James is often tagged as the first husband of Hole's Courtney Love. Oh, yeah, and he dresses in women's clothes - in fact, he was Fiz's very first "Page Four Whore," looking as blank as any Playboy centerfold.

But James is hardly blank - indeed, his prose is perceptive and vivid, and his music is deceptively simple, with repeated listening revealing new nuances of thought and emotion. The thing about The Big Jinx is that it was born under circumstances that can only be called bizarre and tragic. Near the album's completion, the Trains' longtime producer and bassist, Chaz Ramirez, died in a freak accident. While searching for speaker wire upstairs in an Orange County warehouse, he fell through the floor and landed on his head, going into a coma, and then dying in a hospital several days later.

Understandably, this turn of events had its effect on the band's surviving members; as James says, the impact is felt in tunes that may seem like larks, but are actually essential components of their coping. For example, the witty, twangy "Can't Afford To Die" is a tongue-in-cheek consideration of the expense of disposing of one's remains, yet it is also a way of handling "how weird it was going to someone's funeral, " James says.

Although the record was conceived as (to quote the press notes) "a psychedelic train ride through the dark side of Disneyland," its structure seems touched by Chaz's death, too. The opening of the title track, which is the sound of a long, loud train, may carry listeners to a metaphorical place, but it is also cathartic - "to kinda clear the throat," as James says. Most bands would put their catchiest song in the No. 1 slot to reel in listeners. But the Leaving Trains transport us to their realm in a way that is both more direct and subtler. At the ride's end, we land in the garage-poppy "Ice Cream Truck," an innocuous yet somehow poignant paean to a treat that never comes.

The nine remaining tracks run from brief, frenetic jabs (the taunting "Go A-Fuckin' Head," the pounding "Sex War") to drawn-out meanderings (the psychedelic Beatle-istic "Stowaway"). What's odd is that, while I usually want songs to finish in three minutes, in this case, I like the five-and six-plus minute tunes most. In fact, as "Chloroformality" ends, I feel a bit sad boarding the departing train that closes the album.

Now, the Trains' live show has what you might call a major reputation-they've been banned from just about every club in L.A. But the band now has several new places to alienate: They'll do dates in August with their "nemesis" from Italy, a group calling itself the Falling James Band. "They're either these weird impostors or ... these guys who are really into early LA punk.. and things like the Paisley Underground," says James. Who, if flattered , also seems a bit baffled by the Italians' choice of hero. "Why me?", he asks, Nancy Kerrigan-like. "It's like being stalked." But he confesses there's also a competitive factor, as the FJ Band is good and could steal the Trains' thunder - especially when set head-to-head on the same bill. You can catch this crushing face-off on Aurust 3rd and 6th at Jack Sugar Shack . See you there.