"My God, there's mayonnaise on me!" I cried as a napalm of condiment sprayed the innocent crowd behind me. The culprits had threatened to do this from stage all night. After all, this musical outfit had named themselves after a hand-me-down fish. Who knew what the hell they would do?

The band had been out of control since the first note had been strummed. Mandolin and banjo had been raining bombs on each other, neither willing to concede. The maniac guitarist in the middle worked the crowd like a twisted vaudevillian. There was no way to classify the sounds that gushed forth onto unsuspecting ears. Was it bluegrass? Or was it Caribbean flavored with a Cajun's kiss? I couldn't tell. When the quintet merged into one linear sound, something happened. Kind of psycho. Kind of like a mob of genres in a gunfight. The Boulder-based musicians called themselves Leftover Salmon and they brand their music Polyethnic Cajun Slamgrass. After an initial viewing, I have to agree that the boys hit it on the gill (yuck, yuck).

The mayonnaise? Apparently, some poor fellow from the band, Hypnotic Clambake had revealed that it was his birthday. Seeing that the High Sierra was a "Feeeeeeeeeeestivaaaaaaaaaal!!!!!!" (Guitarist Vince Herman's favorite decree, or possibly mating call), the victim was led on stage. His bath became ours. Ironically, no one minded. High jinks are abounding, but when it comes down to it, Leftover Salmon can flat out play. I think of their music like this-I used to have a red and white Fisher Price record player that had two speeds, 331/2 and 45. The 45 made the record sound like a helium party. My callous toddler buddy used to spin the record (with the needle on for the ride) with the twist of his chubby hand. The sound was so rapid that it felt like we were going back in time. It gets that fast when Drew Emmitt (mandolin, fiddle guitar) and Mark Vann (banjo) go to dueling. Of course they sound a "touch" better than my time machine for youngsters. Vince Herman's (guitar, vocals, random gibberish) voice is at 331/2, but his energy reaches volatile levels. Beware of his "spoken word". What was once a song can be morphed into an improv shower of nouns verbs, andwell, things you need to see for yourself.

Drew's voice is resin from the Bluegrass Gods. Close your eyes and you'll think of picking under a moonlit willow tree. He has many gadgets of destruction, including a solid body electric mandolin with slide accompaniment. A renowned tinkerer, Emmit can summon steel drum sounds from his mandolin during Calypso-peppered numbers.

Mark Vann is a legendary banjo destroyer. He is also a gadget fanatic. His toys are the antonym of mundane. Besides the standard Nechville banjo and electric tree stump (just go with me on this one), Mark employs the use of a water phone on the live favorite, "Ask the Fish". It's played with a fiddle bow and has sounds that are reminiscent of whales conversing. The band faces a new challenge with the loss of seven-year bassist Tye North and three-year drummer Jeff Sipe (Aquarium Rescue Unit, Fiji Mariners). Both members left on the best of terms, each one wanting to go in new musical directions. North will be working on a new project with Danny Barnes of the Bad Livers. Sipe's musical path is forked due to being in high demand as a session drummer,. His most recent collaboration will be Project Z with Jimmy Herring and Ricky Keller.

Leftover begins anew with a rhythm search still in its baby steps. "We've got some new prospects," said Drew Emmitt from the band's tour bus. "We've had a few different rhythm sections through the years and each time it's really changed the sound of the band. It's always interesting to me the different directions you can goI think we've learned by playing with these different sections that we know what we want, what we like to hear, and what personalities workI think the next rhythm section will be appropriate for what we're doingIt's hard to see (Jeff and Tye) go because they're brothers and I love them. I'm excited about a new era. We're still doing this after eleven years.

For the time being, Salmon has some nice "fillers". First there's John Cowan, a golden-throated bass thumper and New Grass Revival alum. His contribution should be felt immediately. The respect is heavy from the Salmon boys. Cowan is somewhat of a bluegrass icon for the band. "We first performed with John under the dance tent of Merle Fest a couple of years ago," said Emmitt. "I was a little nervous then but it went really well and it was a great timeWe've done a lot of shows together since then and we did a tour last spring. It's become something enjoyable, more of a collaborationas much as I listened to New Grass Revival growing up; it's a pretty big thing to be playing with him. John plays solid bluegrass bass. One of my favorite things about New Grass was the bass. It drove the band. It's a real pleasure to play with John after hearing those tunes for so long. Being in the music instead of outside is a pretty amazing thing."

Cowan's and Emmitt's voices intertwining should create some goose-pimply shivers. "It's a treat harmonizing with John. Our voices blend really well." Drummer Jose Martinez will handle the rhythm policing. Salmon met him at the High Sierra Festival and Emmitt concedes that the band is really pleased with what they've heard so far. A regular diet of Martinez is yet to be determined. The band wants to enjoy the tour for now. They're currently touring with Texas hero Robert Earl Keen. Each band will flip-flop opening and closing duties, depending on regional appreciation.

So where did this madness all begin? The upstream migration started around 1990. Drew had moved to Boulder from Tennessee in 1973. He had always had a fetish for multiple instruments and was drawn to the likes of Duane Allman, Hot Rize, and Bill Monroe. He and Mark Vann had been performing in the traditionally minded Left-Hand String Band. Mark and his wife had left a prosperous deck building business in Northern Virginia to move to Colorado. He had been a winner at the Telluride Banjo Contest (twice), and he knew that he needed to devote his energies to banjo fulltime.

On New Years Eve 1990, the Salmon Heads, Vince Herman's Cajun/Calypso/jug band failed to show for their performance. Vince was known as a gifted guitarist with a penchant for spontaneous poetry (he had some background in improv acting). His Cajun leanings had come courtesy of the late Dewey Balfa (Dewey's daughter, Christine, heads Balfa Toujours with husband Dirk Powell). Vince got to play with the Cajun godfather a couple of years in a row at the Augusta Heritage and Arts Festival in West Virginia.

Herman was invited to play with Left-Hand for the night and the mesh was felt immediately. People took instant notice and the demand for a unified band became rectified shortly thereafter. In 1993, they released the debut, "Bridges to Bert" followed by their 1995 live venture, "Ask the Fish". Hollywood Records took notice of this band that seemed to reel in fans with hardly any national airplay. They signed Leftover and released "Euphoria" in 1997. The next album would become an "insta-classic", 1999's "The Nashville Sessions". Salmon had some of the biggies of the business descend on the recording studio-Taj Mahal, Lucinda Williams, Del and Ronnie McCoury, John Bell, and Waylon Jennings, to name a few. "It was a major highlight never to be topped," said Herman. "It was an incredible couple of weeks of getting to go on a musical vacation in Nashville."

Unlike some improv bands, the recording studio does not deter Salmon. Emmitt sees it as another form of exploration. "It's a whole other world because you're focused on the music and playing togetherwe have to let it take on the life it hasyou can really perfect what you want to do. With live, you only get one shot."

Records aside, the band thrives on the live reciprocal energy of the crowd. The fanatics that ingest this winning music on a regular basis are LOSers. It's hard not to become a Salmon mainliner. They can bust out a vicious David Bromberg cover like "Sharon", slide into a gorgeous original like "River's Rising", and then promote a dancing sweatshop with John Hartford's "Boogie". Each divergent personality contributes to the sound, ensuring that performing never becomes routine.

"If we play a serious lick, it has to be countered by someone going way out, just for the sake of personal balance," said Vince. "There's a bit of developed telepathic communication going on musicallyyou know what a person needs in terms of musical support. We kind of incorporate from the jazz realm. An improv emphasis that maybe doesn't occur in bluegrass music." Another rarity in bluegrass is Vince's poetic spew. I wondered (aloud) how it compliments the band onstage. "It rarely does [laughs]. One thing we really do is try to make the show specific to the place we're in. Music is really meant to be played in a living room with people you know. One way to do that in the theater is to be aware of things going on in the communityrelating that makes it a much more real thing in terms of what music is, and why I personally babble so much."

So how do Drew and Mark get Vince back?

"Sometimes they just stop," he laughed. "There are always musical surprises coming from those guys. Hopefully they add up and one leads to another and we have a good night."

I wish I could prognosticate what these wackos will do in Deerfields. I can only "coach" the unawares on a few things-1) be prepared to shimmy to ass-kicking bluegrass with soulful ballads and molten-picking. 2) Revel in the party atmosphere, as Caribbean and Cajun flavors will sprinkle the set. 3) Pray for newcomers John and Jose. I don't think they realize what they have gotten themselves into.