JANA SUMMERS Phish guitarist Trey
Anastasio joined Oysterhead bandmates Stewart Copeland and
Les Claypool in front of a sold-out crowd Saturday.
By David Holmberg
Daily Bruin Staff
Worlds collided Saturday night at the Hollywood Palladium as
diverse musical styles simultaneously struggled for supremacy and
embraced their differences, as the talents of Oysterhead were
jammed out for an enthusiastic crowd.
The supergroup, which is enjoying a rather successful first tour
after the release of its debut album, “The Grand Pecking
Order” earlier this month, is superficially a disparate
combination of musicians. No clear front man is emphasized and so
Primus bassist Les Claypool and Phish guitarist Trey Anastasio
share the lead spotlight. This is not to overlook former Police
drummer, Stewart Copeland, who is equally responsible for
establishing Oysterhead’s atypical style.
So what do Primus, Phish and the Police have in common to give
unity to the music of Oysterhead?
It would seem like very little because their new collective
sound is unlike any of their previous, separate endeavors.
However, all are synthesizing the core feeling of their past
bands into this new effort and the unification is so complete it is
impossible to separate them again into their individual genres.
 JANA SUMMERS Les Claypool, of Primus and
the Flying Frog Brigade, brings his murky musical style to the
group Oysterhead at a performance at the Hollywood Palladium on
Saturday.
Claypool brings with him a diverse and murky musical styling
that he throws down with every bass line and jarring vocal exploit.
His nasal sing-speak is perhaps questionably agreeable, but his
talent as a bassist is certainly not to be debated. Plus, he has an
undeniably indescribable nature that creates its own
gloominess.
Where there is Trey there is jamming, and Oysterhead is no
exception. Anastasio’s band Phish, although not currently a
functioning unit, is still currently the most beloved and popular
of the modern jam bands, filling the void left by the disbanding of
the Grateful Dead in the mid-’90s. His guitar work feels
effortless as every electrified note slides forth into the segment
of the brain that initiates uncontrollable dancing.
The Police may have separated 15 years ago, but drummer Copeland
has advanced well beyond his days with the pop-punk likes of Sting
and company.
The pop strains still remains with the relatively mellow (when
compared with the zeal of Claypool) drum solos, as does the punk
energy continue to emanate from his beats. Thankfully, Copeland
refrains from any exhaustingly long drum solos into which other jam
bands, most notably the Dead, often degenerate.
With all three of the musicians’ styles fused, the result
is a decidedly dark and muddy, yet energetic jam band with strange
and barely intelligible lyrics. But Oysterhead is about feeling,
not necessarily a musical message, and the instrumental prowess of
each member is what establishes the atmospheric world they are
striving towards, something that is not nearly as apparent on their
studio recordings.
 JANA SUMMERS Filling out the power trio known as
Oysterhead is former Police drummer Stewart
Copeland.
Helping to add to this environment of other-worldliness was a
skillfully tuned lighting scheme that sent shafts of neon light
spiraling and skirting through the smoke-filled air.
This was the single ingratiating contribution made by the
Palladium, which is likely the most nightmarish concert venue in
Los Angeles. Everything about the arena, from the security staff to
the ridiculously low stage, give the impression that the Palladium
is rather pissed off that anyone has decided to see the show, and
would be much happier if no one came.
Even after the hours in line and virtual strip search at the
gate, however, the concert-goers were not discouraged in their
enthusiasm. The audience was remarkably mixed, with those who
clearly followed Claypool, coming costumed in a bizarre array
ranging from devils to vegetables, and those loyal to Trey
comprising all of the dreadlocked and pseudo-hippies in attendance.
Copeland’s fans were harder to spot, but most over 30 years
old were likely candidates.
Although most of the crowd was still crawling through the
security measures outside when the opening band, the North
Mississippi Allstars, performed, the group still put on a fine show
of Southern country-blues jam rock.
Much like the fusion music of Oysterhead, the diverse fans found
themselves compounded into a collective audience bonding on the
singular passion for the music. And despite their relatively short
hour-and-a-half set, the supergroup nevertheless satisfied the
crowd with their down and dirty danceable jams and sweeping energy,
leaving all with the flame that only a live concert can ignite.