Oysterhead comes on strong November 8, 2001 - The Plain Dealer By John Soeder ...with a mix of rock, funk and jazz Pearls before swine? Hardly. The musical gems of Oysterhead were not wasted Tuesday night on a capacity crowd of 3,000-plus enthusiastic fans in Playhouse Square's State Theatre. Guitarist Trey Anastasio (of Phish fame), bass player Les Claypool (taking a break from Primus) and drummer Stewart Copeland (formerly of the Police) appeared to enjoy themselves, too, as they performed selections from their high-profile side project's debut album, "The Grand Pecking Order." The musicians combined the brute force of rock, the tricky swing of jazz and the down-and-dirty drive of funk. They cut loose in other directions, too, during lengthy improvisational interludes in the middle of every song, starting with the opening number, "Owner of the World." Anastasio and Claypool took turns handling lead vocals, although neither of them was blessed with a particularly strong set of pipes. The former's voice was one-dimensional; the latter's voice was nasal. Wisely, they kept the singing to a minimum and played to their strengths as a jam band, noodling endlessly and even spectacularly at times. Anastasio was never at a loss for a squealing electric-guitar solo, Claypool's busy, thumb-popping bass riffs roiled beneath the surface of it all and Copeland devised countless ways to slice and dice even the most basic 4/4 rhythms. "I pull Trey to the dark side, he pulls me to the light side, and Stewart says, 'Hey, you guys, work it out,' " Claypool told concertgoers, most of whom were displaced members of Phish's nomadic following. Oysterhead's peculiar chemistry produced flashes of brilliance during "Army's on Ecstasy," the surreally syncopated "Polka Dot Rose" and "Rubberneck Lions," a swinging rocker. Another showstopper was "Pseudo Suicide," which started out as a heavy-metal spoof and transformed itself into a galloping cowboy song. There were a couple of duds, too - namely, the gloomy "Shadow of a Man" and "Wield the Spade," an atonal tone poem. But Oysterhead was back in fine form for its funky theme song, "Mr. Oysterhead," and "Birthday Boys," a rippling, bluegrass-flavored ditty featuring Anastasio on acoustic guitar and Claypool on banjo. In the flesh, the band didn't exceed the sum of its all-star parts; rather, it equaled them. If you were to play CDs by Phish, Primus and the Police simultaneously, the ensuing weirdness could easily pass for Oysterhead. The Cancer Conspiracy, a guitar-bass-drums combo from Burlington, Vt., warmed up the crowd with a fine set of epic instrumentals. The threesome's ever-shifting grooves, masterful dynamics and evocative melodies had all the makings of a great sci-fi film soundtrack.