In concert, Cajun rocker Zachary Richard can be a real daredevil. Whether prancing at Tip’s Jagger-style between an African steel drummer and a rotund fiddler, or nearly collapsing a festival stage during an accordion duel with Wayne Toups, a “Zach attack” is unpredictable. His youthful attempt to foment French seperatism in Lafayette is legendary.

Zach was even rapping in concert before most of his white audience knew what he was doing. These are high points in a long and complex career. Other shows— including this year’s Jazz Fest —are uninspired, and recordings have been uneven. On Snake Bite Love Richard attempts a variety of musical styles with limited success.

Too many songs play like the title track: generic rock treatments and fillin-the-blank songwriting. When Richard tackles New Orleans themes, the result is a listless second-line (“Crawfish”) and an unconvincing “Down In Congo Square.” (Zach fairs even worse in this territory than Beausoleil’s recent, similarly-themed Conja (New Orleans 1786).

Richard is somewhat more successful as a crossover singer-songwriter. His voice recalls Lyle Lovett, and “One Kiss” and “Come On, Sheila” combine catchy melodies with an atmospheric, Tex-Mex accordion. There are also a couple good zydeco romps which would have worked if Richard had hit the squeezebox a little harder.

But a real gem on Snake Bite Love, “Sunset On Louisianne,” is almost buried on side two. It may be a follow-up to Richard’s defiant “Reveille” — if so, it’s a bitter denouement. The song is a stark protest against some effects of the oil industry in Southwest Louisiana, such as economic dependency, miscarriages and cancer, the “sickness that got no cure.” Not surprisingly, these are rare topics for a Cajun song, and when Richard follows it with a high-charged “Madame Sothene,” his cries are filled with anguish. Like no one else, Zach still knows how to take a song and go on the attack.