Mickey Avalon’s story is nothing if not interesting.

He’s a Hollywood kid who grew up in a more substance- and alcohol-saturated environment than, say, your typical American household. By the time he was 16, he was selling drugs, living on his own and running with a well-known graffiti crew, according to an extensive profile that ran in the L.A. Weekly newspaper in 2006.

His grandparents survived the Holocaust, but the same cannot be said about the rest of their family. In his late teens, Avalon lived life as a devout Orthodox Jew. “Looking back, I was a zealot,” he told L.A. Weekly.

His burgeoning rap career started thanks to an acquaintance named Simon Rex, a former MTV VJ who raps under the name Dirt Nasty. Rex encouraged Avalon to record his first songs, and then passed out CDs of the music at trendy Hollywood clubs. By the time Avalon played his first show in the mid-2000s — one he famously started with his back to the audience out of nervousness — the place was packed with people who already knew all the words.

He’s also a man who has experienced incredible familial pain; his father was hit and killed by a drunk driver, and his sister died near the end of a year in which they lived together and stayed sober together under their mom’s roof.

Mickey Avalon’s biggest hits are raunchy tales that teem with lyrics about his own experience with prostitution, drug use and life on the streets. Some have titles you can’t print in a family newspaper. Others include “Mr. Right,” “Jane Fonda” and “So Rich, So Pretty.” All are powered by heavy beats and engrossing, synthesized melodies, and are delivered in Avalon’s lackadaisical, almost effeminate flow.

The man has swagger and style for miles, and that’s the biggest attraction to his fast-growing fan base.

But in interviews, he comes off as sweet and almost shy, 180 degrees from the guy you see rapping on stage.

That gap between his professional persona and his personal life isn’t always easy to navigate, Avalon, 35, said in a telephone interview last week.

“Sometimes it’s hard after a show,” he said. “For example, in Cincinnati, we had to leave in a few hours to get out of town, and everyone wanted to come back to my hotel room and party and get crazy, and there’s just only so much I can do, especially if we’re getting on a plane in a few hours. I guess maybe if I had enough money to hire someone to be the mean guy, maybe that would work, but sometimes it’s hard for me to tell people (no).”

He continues: “When I’m on stage, I’m performing. I’m doing the thing,” he said. “I mean, I understand when people go, ‘Oh my God, I can’t believe how nice you are.’ It’s like, do they want me to be mean?”

Avalon grew up listening to the music his father played: blues, country, rockabilly, Tex-Mex, Cajun. But the first music he discovered on his own was rap, via big stars like the Beastie Boys and Run DMC. (“If I would’ve been a little bit older, it probably would’ve been punk rock,” he says.)

And while he understands the difference between the music he makes and the music his dad loved, he believes the link between the two is stronger than it may appear.

“Rap’s kind of like the modern-day folk music,” Avalon said. “It’s all just people telling their story. So, say my story isn’t the same as 50 Cent’s story. It’s still my story.”

Speaking of stories, Avalon says he has “tons” of songs waiting to be unleashed on the world, but it’s been more than four years since the release of his debut self-titled album.

The reason for the delay? Typical music industry politics, he says, though not in so many words.

“There’s just so much bulls–t to deal with,” he said.

Recently, however, he has cleared at least one obstacle to releasing his new album, which he’s been saying is “coming soon” in interviews for a couple of years now.

“I got off my record label, and stuff should be happening pretty soon,” Avalon said. “Like now, I can make music and actually put it out. Before I couldn’t put it out, I just had to wait. And now that I’m off that label, I can put it out.”

When asked to confirm that he has split with Interscope Records, he replies: “Yeah. Thank God.”

For the next couple months, Avalon will be looking for a new label to release his upcoming sophomore album, and if he doesn’t find a deal that suits him, he says he’ll leak the tracks himself.

“Everything’s gonna get out. That’s not even a question,” he said. “I didn’t work that much and make that many songs for no one to hear ‘em.”

Avalon’s ultimate goal, though, is not for people to simply hear his music. His ultimate goal is to have a huge hit that will propel him to a place where he can make music until the day he dies, regardless of circumstance.

“The only reason I even tried to get so big in the first place instead of staying in the underground is because in the underground, there is a short shelf life,” he said. “Like look at the Rolling Stones. I knew if I get that big, then I can do this for the rest of my life. If I don’t, then it will die out.

“The Rolling Stones ain’t had a hit in forever, but they’re the Rolling Stones, so they’re gonna play until they’re 100 years old and it’s all good,” Avalon said. “If you don’t make it and you’re trying to play till you’re 100 years old, you just look like an old desperate weirdo.”

If you go

What: Mickey Avalon, with Top Shelf, Space Boyz, Offset and DJ Chi-Duly

When: 9 tonight, doors open 8 p.m.

Where: Domino Room, 51 N.W. Greenwood Ave., Bend

Cost: $25 at the door

Contact: endustryent@gmail.com or 541-602-2628