The tie-dyed bedecked crowd gave enthusiastic hurrahs for longtime panic cronies Col. Bruce Hampton and the Fiji Mariners, who proceeded to deliver some kickin' hillbilly rock with a double-beat that immediately jump-started the groove. Col. Bruce, a pudgy un-shaven man with big ham fists, tweaked and twanged his tiny ukelele shaped guitar, wrenching unbelievably ear-searing solos out of the little beast. Working an insanely poetic counter-point to the raw and rough guitar blasts was Dr. Dan, a mop-haired automatron of keyboard kool.

This man smoked. He smoked and then some. With head bent down over the bank of keyboards, long locks dripping sweat--Dr. Dan turned out elegant ivory stylings like glaze on a pie, ripping 32nd notes down one side and up the other of the Col's warm, fuzzy attacks. With Mark on the bass and Eric Larson on drums rounding (squaring?) out the quartet, the Fiji Mariners delivered a scathing round of fusion-inspired funk-rock and put on a great stage show as well, trading licks with evil smiles and Dr. Dan's manic backwards keyboard banging.

With the Budweisers flowing freely on the by-now-packed dance floor, Widespread Panic stepped on-stage and lead guitarist/singer Michael Houser seemed way too relaxed to be churning out as much noise as he was churning out. Churning. The volume level rose up and then dipped down teasingly, Todd Nance and Sunny Ortiz pounding out a hypnotic thundering of beats. With a crash, the group broke into "Hatfield", a song about a rainmaker who fucked up big time in the early 1900's. Gotta love the subject matter.

The cosmic chirping of JoJo Herman on the big Hammond B3 lent a 60's flavor to each piece, a mystery to guess which one would come next since the band hates to repeat songs twice in say, a year. "Walk On" and "Who Do You Belong To?" evoked serious vibes of Grateful Dead, with lilting banjo riffs providing a countrified heart to otherwise rock-solid jams of razor precision. John Bell contributed bright, harmonic sheets of sound to the soundscapes of "You Got Yours" and "Barstools and Dreamers" while David Schools ran double-time on a rumbling bass trip through jewels like "Stop-Go", "Hope In A Hopeless World", and "Machine".

At the halfway mark, the band threw out the classics "Love Tractor" and "Space Wrangler", meshed together in one fat jam that saw some true keyboard gimmickry from Herman and a death-defying rapid-fire solo by frontman Houser that brought the house out of its trance and into a major mosh.

Col. Hampton came on-stage for the encore of "Lovelight" and "Chilly Water". The former caused a panic, as the band hasn't played this ditty for over two years. That's the mania of it all--they're so damn good, they play too many songs--you have to follow them like the Pope in order to get all the magic.

Or do a lot of tape trading. Another reet show at the House Of Blues.