Nearly 2,800 tickets to Oysterhead's debut show sold out in 13 minutes, and the mania surrounding the concert mystified even the members of the newly minted supergroup, in New Orleans for a performance held smack in the middle of Jazzfest week. "Who the hell paid $2,000 to get in here?" bassist-singer Les Claypool, better known for his day gig with Primus, taunted during the trio's first and maybe only appearance, Thursday night at the 73-year-old Saenger Theatre. "I don't know if it's the brightest thing you've ever done, but I hope you're having a good time."

His jokey remark was a jab at the rabid fanaticism that led to outrageously high bids for Oysterhead tickets online at auction house eBay. Throngs of tie-dyed devotees of the jam-band scene congregated for several hours at the venue, some thrusting out wads of cash or holding simple signs begging for a "miracle" that would allow access to the show.

Claypool, Phish guitarist-vocalist Trey Anastasio and ex-Police drummer Stewart Copeland relied on plenty of that good-natured conviviality and regular doses of inspiration to compensate for any shortage of musical direction. Preparations had been limited to an impromptu collaboration at a Primus gig in Vermont, and exploratory rehearsals in San Francisco and the Crescent City.

The trio, organized by Claypool at the behest of New Orleans concert promoter Superfly Presents, often sounded like the sum of their respective parts. "I am Oysterhead, 'till the day I die," Claypool sang during the neo-metallic chorus of the opening tune, equipped with spacier pop verses handled by Anastasio. The second number, built on a low, lean riff worked into a frenzy, contained a reference to "Mr. Oysterhead," and a third piece had the front men trading instrumental lines.

"He Used To Be the Owner of the World," a song written about Phish drummer Jon Fishman (who ran on stage and off in a blur), seemed to reference the Police, with its new-wavy chorus, nicely propelled by Copeland's aggressive, creative attack.

The loosely structured songs reportedly were assembled at the eleventh hour, after the band scrapped plans to cover an entire Led Zeppelin album. Oysterhead nevertheless seemed to make converts of the constantly dancing, ready-for-anything crowd, thanks to an eclectic approach that had the band mixing bits of funk, hard rock and jazz with sound effects and experimental sections. Claypool, Anastasio and Copeland at times resembled a power trio; elsewhere, they came off as exponents of an updated brand of '70s fusion.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers, in concert across town that night, got a nod with a bit called "There Ain't No Cure for Suicide," and another piece stitched Primus's "Jerry Was a Race Car Driver" to "Reba," from Phish.

"Oh, it's gonna get painful," Claypool said, before launching into a series of tunes no doubt revered by the bandmates if maybe only vaguely familiar to a crowd dominated by twenty somethings. Zeppelin's "Immigrant Song," with Claypool handling the high wailing part was followed by a hard-grooving workout on Desmond Dekker's "The Israelites" (perfectly suited tp Copeland's style), the Kinks' "All Day and All of the Night" and the old standby "House of the Rising Sun."

Charlie Hunter, a talented jazzer able to simultaneously forge guitar and bass lines from his eight-string instrument, hooked up with Galactic drummer Stanton Moore, saxophonist Skerik and a guest percussionist for a bouncy, multicolor set that contrasted nicely with the heavier riffs and grooves of the headlining act. Garage a Trois, already somewhat established, is an all-star collaboration destined to stick around for a while. We're not so sure about Oysterhead.