NEW YORK -- Standing onstage at New York City's Elbow Room, Mike Watt unconsciously tapped his foot while rolling two Chinese worry balls around in his right hand.

He offered a few quick hellos to folks in the front of the room, but little more. His mind was, well, occupied.

The former bass player for the Minutemen and fIREHOSE has a reputation as a practical, utilitarian musician, and he had only been on the stage for five minutes Friday before he was plugged in and ready to play. As he waited for drummer Steve Hodges (Tom Waits) and guitarist Joe Baiza (Saccharine Trust) to finish setting up their equipment, Watt was obviously anxious.

It's hard to imagine how he could not be a bit nervous before the show. In just minutes he would for perform his entire upcoming album, Contemplating the Engine Room (Columbia, Oct. 7), live for the first time. This album is not simply Watt's latest effort; it marks the crowning achievement of his 18-year career.

But that wasn't all he had on his mind right then. Backstage after the show, Watt told me he was especially care-worn because he thought ex-Cars leader Ric Ocasek had stalled before his opening set, and that a soundman had told Watt his allotted time would be cut short.

Despite it all, Watt kept quiet throughout the performance, uttering nary a "thank you" or "hello." Rather, by launching immediately into the set and eschewing any explanations during the show, he sought to let the music stand or fall on its own. The bass player was visually both a part of the moment, engaging the audience and his band with smiles and signals, as well as a part of the work, augmenting songs such as "In the Engine Room" and "Pedro Bound!" with spirited pokes and punches.

Over the course of 53 minutes, Engine Room tells two parallel stories, those being the history of the Minutemen and the tale of a Navy ship crew inspired by the military career of Watt's father, both over the trajectory of a single day (a la Joyce's Ulysses, a big influence on Watt). Although Watt calls the album his "punk rock opera" (his own slang for "concept album"), it's actually a narrative, not a drama. More importantly, Contemplating the Engine Room is an amazingly cohesive work, rendered musically in subtle shadings and purposeful movements, and lyrically in satisfyingly rich detail.

Which is to say that it's not the kind of album you would jump to perform for the first time in front of a guest list-heavy bar crowd that has never before heard it. Especially when you're working with a guitarist other than the one who wrote fantastically nimble parts for the album. And definitely not when you fear your set might be cut short. Thus, it's easy to sympathize with Watt's anxieties before the show.

Still, once the trio began to play, Watt's worrying proved unwarranted.

Drummer Steve Hodges' work was especially impressive, as he used the kit not only to complete the rhythm section with Watt, but also to evoke a variety of pictures, which is essential for a conceptual album such as Engine Room. On "Pedro Bound!," for example, he used brushes and his snare rim to conjure the image of a young boy pedaling around his new town with adventurous abandon. Joe Baiza also performed ably. Though the guitarist is not as dexterous as Nels Cline (Geraldine Fibbers), who wrote the guitar parts for the album, Baiza nonetheless brings his own talents to the story, as evidenced on the introduction to "The Boilerman."

On the back of advanced copies of Contemplating the Engine Room, Watt writes, "What I really wanted to do was make one whole piece that celebrates three people playing together." In essence, Cline and Hodges had to become Watt's former band the Minutemen for the recording of the album (though they obviously add their own musical history to the piece), a notion underscored by several lyrical references to the band as "Mission men." Watt even asked Cline to use his former bandmate D. Boon's guitar for "The Boilerman."

And in time, Hodges and Baiza would prove that they, too, were Mission men.

Of course, Watt will always be remembered for his work in the Minutemen, who from 1979 to 1985 redefined punk by mixing their wholly American style of leftist rock 'n' roll with jazz and funk influences on seminal albums such as Double Nickels on the Dime (SST, 1984) and 3-Way Tie (For Last) (SST, 1985). The band came to an abrupt and tragic halt in 1985, when guitarist and Watt's best friend D. Boon died in a van accident.

Watt was beginning to come into his own artistically when Boon died; he later wrote most of the material for fIREHOSE, which he formed after Boon's death in 1986 with Minutemen drummer George Hurley. Though he, of course, didn't know it all the time, all these moments have led up to Contemplating the Engine Room, on which Watt fulfills his own ambitions and potential better than he's ever done before.

At the Elbow room, the band gave Engine Room a wonderful debut airing. If the crowd did not glean all that the work has to offer (how could they?), they nonetheless responded heartily to several of the numbers. And from their reaction at the work's close (its most difficult section), they obviously understood that this album is a labor of intense love and emotion for Watt.

Now as the band sets about massaging the piece and finding their live groove, the question remains whether the rest of Watt's fans will give this show the attention it deserves when the band hits the road after the album is released in October. It's doubtful Watt could fill theaters rather than clubs, and questionable whether he'd be comfortable there anyway.

It's also hard to imagine Watt delivering a "Tell your neighbor to just shut the fuck up" speech such as Bruce Springsteen did to keep things quiet each night on his Ghost of Tom Joad tour.

No matter how live crowds receive Contemplating the Engine Room, those who give it a chance on their stereo will be moved.

Speaking both descriptively and superlatively, this is the album of Mike Watt's life. [Thurs., Sept. 11, 1997, 9 a.m. PST]