When Quintron and Miss Pussycat played with Black Lips last year at The Basement, the New Orleans duo seemed more like an irritant than an opening act. From the dolled-up background dancers to the puppet show to the organ-powered garage disco tracks, it was all too much to swallow.

Kitsch can be a bitch.

When Quintron and Miss Pussycat played with Black Lips last year at The Basement, the New Orleans duo seemed more like an irritant than an opening act. From the dolled-up background dancers to the puppet show to the organ-powered garage disco tracks, it was all too much to swallow.

Returning to observe the band from the internet's safe distance, the same trailer-trash culture clash that caught me off guard back then seems a lot more appealing now that I know what I'm getting into. Few performers match Mr. Quintron's power to immerse you in his world, whether or not you want to come inside.

So if you check out his show at The Summit with Psychedelic Horseshit and RTFO Bandwagon, get in on the joke first or be puzzled to the point of despair.