“Pehdtsckjmba.” With this transparent and evocative word, Tom Waits, one of rock music’s greatest eccentrics, announced a two-and-a-half week tour through the southern United States.

Waits, who tours about as frequently as the pope, explained his Glitter And Doom Tour, ranging from Phoenix to Atlanta, with a study of astronomy. “If you think about it, from the beginning we’ve all looked to the night sky for guidance and meaning,” he said at a “press conference.”

Pointing to a map of the U.S, he noted that the route of the tour matches the constellation Hydra. He then pointed to a list of cities he would be playing and noted they formed the acronym “Pehdtsckjmba” (pronounced peh-ska-JIM-bah), which stands for “People envy happiness, dogs sense courage, knowing jubilation means better ass…sets.”

Two years ago, Waits justified the itinerary of his last two-week tour in 2006 by quipping “We need to go to Tennessee to pick up some fireworks, and someone owes me money in Kentucky.”

He had little else to say to the “press conference,” which took place in a room with apparently no people, a dozen or so empty chairs and a turntable playing crowd noise record. But for a man who regales his fans with tales of vagrants, drunks, immaculate confections, and shady characters with consulting businesses in Indonesia, it all seemed rather appropriate.

So it made sense when Costello made a surprise appearance during the encore of Lowe’s New York concert at the Manhattan Center Wednesday night. Costello and Lowe dueted on “Indoor Fireworks,” a song Costello penned for Lowe for his 1985 album The Rose Of England. Then Costello, Lowe and opening act Robyn Hitchcock performed spirited versions of “Hungry For Love,” the 1963 hit by Johnny Kidd & The Pirates; “If I Fell” by the Beatles; and “Mystery Train,” the Junior Parker/Elvis Presley classic (although their version was closer to The Band’s 1973 cover version).

For most of his career, Lowe has toiled in the shadows of his proteges, such as Costello, the Pretenders and the Damned. His own energetic power-pop songs were often too acerbic, and let’s face it, too smart for American radio. Outside of his 1979 Top 20 hit “Cruel To Be Kind,” he’s probably best known for penning Costello’s anthem “(What’s So Funny Bout) Peace Love and Understanding.”

But Lowe’s influence stretches further. His band from the early 70s Brinsley Schwarz was the best known band of a strain of British pop music known as pub rock, a hybrid of R&B and country with often irreverent lyrics that formed an important precursor to punk rock. Lowe’s proto-punk 1976 single “So It Goes” b/w “Heart Of The City” pre-dated the Sex Pistols’ “Anarchy In The U.K.” by three months. With Dave Edmunds, he formed Rockpile, one of greatest of the roots-rock bands to emerge from the 1970s. As the house producer for the legendary independent label Stiff Records, he produced Costello’s first three albums — My Aim Is True, This Years Model, and Armed Forces – his most successful and arguably his best.

Lowe’s latest album, At My Age (Yep Roc Records) follows in the more mellow vein of his last three albums. Eschewing the aggressive sound he was known for in the 70s and 80s, he has added more blues, country and even jazz influences to the mix. The result is a rich and smoky sound, not unlike the late Arthur Alexander. His wit remains in full display with “I’ve Trained Her To Love Me” and “Long Limbed Girl.”

But for those who long for the classic sound of “pure pop for now people,” as he described it back in 1978, Yep Roc has also reissued his debut album Jesus Of Cool in celebration of the 30th anniversary of its original release. It’s essential listening for any fan of Costello or 70s New Wave music.

(Photo: Derek Caney, Reuters)

He led his band, The Family Stone, through such familiar hits as “Dance to the Music” and “Everyday People,” before telling the crowd euphemistically that he needed to relieve himself. He left via stage right, while the band remained on stage to perform the rest of the show, performing versions of “Don’t Call Me Nigger, Whitey” and “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin).”

Taking a page out of the Spinal Tap playbook, the 64-year-old Stone did make an attempt to return to stage from the opposite end. He got as far as the side of the stage, but his organist’s equipment was in the way. After a half-hearted attempt to climb around it, he turned on his heels and exited through the kitchen of the club, and did not return for the remainder of the set.

If anyone in the audience took the abbreviated performance as an ominous sign, well, they could be forgiven. Stone muddled through the 1970s racking up no-shows and erratic performances. But those who saw Sly two weeks ago at B.B.’s saw a different side of Sly: witty, self effacing, and, when he wanted to be, a magnetic performer.

In a strange coda to the evening, as the band was leaving the stage for the final time, an audience member grabbed one of the microphones and yelled, “Get back on stage, Sly! Get that crack addict back onstage! I paid a hundred dollars!” Before anyone could see who it was, he fled through the crowd, which had already begun to make its exit.

Saxophone player Jerry Martini, one of only two original members of the Family Stone playing this evening, came to the front of the stage to defend Stone with an impassioned speech, lauding the amount of time he spent on stage, calling him “a genius” and imploring the crowd to “show Sly your love!”

Out of nowhere, Sebastian Bach, one-time front man for the 80s hair metal band Skid Row and recently eliminated on MTV’s Celebrity Rap Superstar ,” pushed through the crowd and began to query the club staff at the side of the stage, “Who was that guy? He’s got no right. Sly was just great!”

By that time, most of the crowd had drifted off into the New York City night.

P.S. Sly was scheduled to perform a second set at 10:30 p.m. Anyone with anything to say about the second set should feel free to post below.

(Photo: Derek Caney / Sly performing on Nov. 20, 2007)

For most in the audience at Sly and the Family Stone’s first show in 32 years, the shock wasn’t that the elusive rock and soul icon delivered a spirited performance, but that he showed up at all.

After defining a new hybrid of psychedelic rock and rhythm & blues in the late 1960s, he became better known in the 1970s for his unreliability, missing many shows and displaying erratic behavior. By the 1980s, he had all but disappeared from public view into a fog of financial problems and drug arrests.

Entering from the left, a hunched figure with a white sweat suit, sunglasses and a mohawk hairstyle hobbled on stage aided by what appeared to be a punk rock dominatrix from a Vivienne Westwood catalog. After a few steps, Sly Stone stood upright, pushed himself away from his aide and took his place center stage before the adoring New York crowd.

After a meandering 15-minute monologue about everything from his grandchildren to his arrests, Stone and the band ran through an hour of their best known hits, including “Dance To The Music,” “Everyday People,” and “Family Affair.”

But by the time his band kicked into an opening note-perfect version of “Dance To The Music” on Tuesday night, any remaining naysayers faded from the dance floor.

Stone left most of the singing to his band, which includes only two members of the original Sly & The Family Stone (Jerry Martini on saxophone and the indefatigable Cynthia Robinson on trumpet). He was more like a master of ceremonies for the band, most of whom come from a tribute group headed by Stone’s younger sister Vet. For the first two songs, his niece Lisa Stone (daughter of the band’s original keyboardist Rose Stone) took the reins, while Stone stood off to the side watching the action like a proud father.

(Photo: Reuters/Derek Caney)