BY FRED MILLS

Without a doubt one of the most crazed revues I've witnessed since that night in the early ‘80s when a Fleshtones concert devolved into a near-orgy of sweat and strewn clothing, King Khan & the Shrines too Asheville by storm last week, and all I can say is - don't miss ‘em.

That would include opening act Golden Triangle, too. The Brooklyn-based six-piece, three gals and three guys, specializes in a hi-octane brand of mutant garage that brings to mind a cross between X, the Cramps and the B-52s as envisioned by a ‘60s teensploitation film producer. Yeah, they were that much fun. The ladies favor a retro girl-group look - miniskirts, hotpants, bangs, eyeliner and thrift-store heels - while the men include a drummer dressed like sheik, a guitarist in standard-issue Ramones leather jacket, and another guitarist looking suave in a Mexican serape. It's a visual trainwreck that somehow works because everyone was so much fun to watch.

Assorted chaos ensued: as the guitarists bounced around laying into assorted surf and Nuggets-approved psych motifs (one picking out Dick Dale-type leads, the other stroking thick, reverbed chords), the bassist locked in with the drummer and the two frontwomen proceeded to go-go their sweet little tailfeathers all over the stage. Weird electronic noises periodically whooshed forth from the P.A. to add to the sense of anything's-about-to-happen. Some repetition in the musical motifs was detected, but that's a small complaint when you're not only having fun but realizing the band is having a gas-gas-gas too.

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Much ink has been spilled of late about Arish "King" Khan, originally from Montreal, sometimes from Berlin and sometimes from Georgia, both about the Shrines and his other project, The King Khan & BBQ Show (with garage fiend Mark Sultan). The Shrines are a sorta-big-band project featuring (as listed on their MySpace page) the following players: King Khan as Himself; Bamboorella - Gogo Queen of the Underworld; Ben Ra - Space Sax; Big Fred Roller - Big Sax; Till Timm - Tn'T; Fredovitch - Orgasm; Riddiman - Bass; John Boy Adonis - Skins; Ron Streeter - Percussions; Simon Wojan - Trumpet, Guitar; and last but not least Hondo Swilley - Gay Blade.

Make of that roster what you will, but the bottom line is that King Khan & the Shrines are a massively compelling band to watch, with elements of an old-time soul revival colliding with a Looney Tunes sense of the absurd. They were like seeing the Fleshtones and the Dap-Kings teaming up to back James Brown, if James Brown had been brought up on punk rock. The show started off with the band members positioned in a semicircle and doing an instrumental vamp; then the blonde-haired Bamboorella, looking like a cross between a flapper and a cheerleader (she was toting pom-poms, believe it or not), led King Khan out to center stage. Dapper in a white polyester suit that could've been nicked from the Saturday Night Fever wardrobe closet, a black shirt and a tooth-and-bone voodoo necklace, he proceeded to grab the mic stand and started belting out the tunes in a distinctively raspy voice - he brought to mind a young, mustachioed Tom Jones, minus the crooner shtick and contending with a head cold. (That's a compliment, by the way.) Later he'd ditch the jacket and shirt and drape a spangled gold cape around his neck and over his shoulders, brandishing a tribal shaman's stick and stomping-hooting-hollering-exhorting the crowd in classic wanna-take-you-higher fashion.

Meanwhile the Shrines, all sharp dressed men in matching black, gold-trimmed shirts (with the exception of the hirsute, teeshirt-clad drummer, who looked like Widespread Panic's Dave Schools), unleashed an unholy garage-soul roar. Most of the setlist was culled from last year's Supreme Genius Of (Vice) and 2006's What Is?! (originally released by the Hazelwood Music label and about to be reissued by Vice), with highlights including the "Paint It Black"-meets-13^th Floor Elevators "I Wanna Be A Girl"; the swinging-sixties soul of "Welfare Bread"; a kind of Blaxploitation-goes-Nuggets slice of sonic cinema called "I See Lights"; and a riotous update of "Land of 1000 Dances" titled "Land of the Freak" awash in pumping organ and surging horns. At one point the whole thing evolved/devolved into a massive psychedelic funk jam that was one part George Clinton, one part Sun Ra, one part Daptone Records, and several parts Animal House.

The cheerleader gal was front-and-center next to King Khan the entire time, a beatific smile never leaving her face as she did her pom-pom routines to give scene a slightly surreal edge. But as with the visual incongruity of the opening act, within the larger "revue" context, she was absolutely essential. For the encore both bands came out for another extended jam, this one almost veering into Sonic Youth noisescape territory. One by one, the musicians fell down onstage, then slipped offstage, until the orgy was done.

Headed to Coachella, kids? How about Bonnaroo? My advice is to re-read that first sentence, above, and make plans to see King Khan & the Shrines at the very earliest opportunity. The band is headed to SXSW this week and then will resume national roadwork in May....