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Eyes Adrift, the new alt-supergroup featuring Curt Kirkwood of the Meat Puppets, Krist Novoselic, formerly of Nirvana, and Bud Gaugh, the drummer for Sublime and Long Beach Dub All Stars, played the Visulite Theatre. At 8pm, six people are there. One guy wears a flannel, even though it's 80 degrees outside. Eyes Adrift T-shirts are for sale -- with "Eyes Adrift" on the front and anagrams like "Fat Rides Ye" or "Yes I Farted" on the reverse. Novoselic, Gaugh, and Kirkwood hit the stage late, to allow time for a crowd to (finally) gather. Novoselic is wearing a shirt that looks like it's made of the sort of chenille fabric usually seen on tacky sectional sofas in beach homes, black Wrangler jeans, and cowboy boots. An hour and a half of solid acid-washed rock later, the band leaves the stage, forgoing an encore. They hit the bus, and I follow them. Here's what I got on tape: Curt Kirkwood: "We stay within the realm of our own meager talents, whereas most other musicians are far, far beyond us technically and conceptually. We know that, and we're on our knees to them." Bud Gaugh, referring to a running joke about my actual name: "Tim, since we can't call you Teddy, do you mind if we dress you up in one? I know you're not the President, but we have the presidential suite, and that's close enough for us." Kirkwood, as Novoselic buries face in hands, groaning: "About three songs and you can tell we start to bring 'em in. We do a little sleight of hand. . .People start to see it. They're seeing that little girl, disinterred, doing ballet up above the stage. Doing pirouettes in the air above the stage!" Novoselic: "I live a really strange existence. People tell me, 'Oh, Nirvana's on TV all the time.' I don't have a TV, so I can't watch it. I live in the woods. I just kind of build my own world." Kirkwood, giggling: "That's so. . .sublime."

-- Tim C. Davis

That's tumblin'! The irony surrounding Cirque du Soleil's Quidam is that this sophisticated performance art is being performed outside Lowe's Motor Speedway, Charlotte's home for NASCAR. The night I was there, the crowd wasn't too far off from folks you'd typically see heading into a race -- a mixed bag including some couples, some with small kids in tote. The only difference was no one was sporting numbered shirts or hats in honor of their favorite driver. Walking in the gates, I overheard a little girl ask her parents if they could see where the elephants were being kept. Her dad told her there weren't any elephants because, "This circus only features people doing tricks." "But why, daddy?" Instead of trying to explain the concept, the dad replied with, "They couldn't find anyone who wanted to clean up all the poop." Just like the man predicted, there was no poop excreted under this big top, only amazing displays of balance and flexibility. But I die see several people almost shit a brick in the concession line when they realized a 12-ounce bottle of domestic beer was going to cost 'em five bucks!

-- Lynn Farris

Pixie Dust: Saturday night, Tremont Music Hall played host to a handful of local bands playing tribute to the music of the Pixies. The Aqualads were augmented for this show with the addition of guitarist Alan Edwards and drummer Darrell Ussery of Lou Ford. Edwards looked resplendent in his "A" T-shirt, a uniform of sorts for the band. The (excuse me, Les) Dirt Clods and the Goldenrods also put on a fine set, one that ought to leave Rods frontman Benji Hughes hoarse for a week after channeling Frank Black and Co. Babyshaker did what Babyshaker does: Throw everything in a blender and scream like a mofo. It worked, as usual. None of which prepared anyone for what came next. Entering to Motley Crue's "Girls, Girls, Girls," the Pixie Chicks (Rods/Clods members Mark Lynch and Benji Hughes, augmented by Jeremy DeHart and Fred Hutchinson) tore the roof off the packed Casbah, without playing a note. Hughes was dressed in what someone called a "Queen Mother" outfit, replete with a flowered hat; Hutchinson in a curvy sequined number; and DeHart in a sensible business outfit. Lynch, who came up with the whole idea, was dressed in stockings, a garter belt, black satin panties and bra, high heels, lipstick, eyeliner and blush. Of course, we were all wearing some form of blush when Lynch sat onstage in an unladylike fashion to remove his heels.

-- Tim C. Davis

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