(Yes, that's the title I'm going with.) Last night's David Byrne concert at the Paramount was (almost) totally perfect. Byrne took the stage with his band and dancers all in angelic white, Byrne looking like he could be a silvery-haired 57 forever, immortal.

"Thank you," he said to thundering applause. (His speaking voice sounded more sandy than I'd expected.) "It's good to be back. Last time we were here, we were at the Benaroya symphony hall, and it was a little more formal.

"I see two professional photographers in the audience," he continued. "You're all welcome to take pictures, but we ask that you only post attractive pictures. Any unattractive pictures should be deleted."

He went on to say that they'd be playing some songs he'd done with Brain Eno (huge cheers) and songs he'd done without Eno and/or with other folks. "That's the menu," he said. "But I don't need to show you the menu. I'm the chef and the waiter, I'll just bring you things to consume. And you'll get a bill at the end of the night."

The band began with "Strange Overtones," one of the strongest songs off of the recent Eno collaboration Everything that Happens Will Happen Today, and the sounds was impeccable (the band was of course air-tight: two drummers, one keyboardist, one super agile bassist, three back-up singers); almost immediately, there was dancing in the front row on the floor. Three dancers came out for "I Zimbra" and played a little game of microphone tag with the three backup singers, taking their mic stands and rearranging them around the stage with the singers in tow. They played "One Fine Day," also off of Everything—I need to go back and give that album another listen; I think it may have way more jams than I had realized.

Introducing the song "Help Me," off of the groundbreaking My Life in the Bush of Ghosts, Byrne noted that the album, "wasn't the most popular" when it came out, that while neither he nor Eno sang on the album, it wasn't an instrumental record. "We used what was then called 'found sounds,' what would go on to be called 'sampling,' although this was pre-samplers, and we had to do it all the hard way. There are no samplers here tonight; I'll be the sampler." And he went on to belt out the song in a perfectly possessed radio preacher voice. They played "Houses in Motion," Byrne and the dancers pulling off a neat bit of choreography in which, between the lines, one dancer would leap between Byrne and the mic just as the singer stepped barely out of the way; it was pretty cool looking. Later in that song, the dancers tried to incite some handclapping without much success, not that it diminished the male dancer's giant, top-of-the-world, open-mouthed smile.

I think they played "My Big Nurse" next, and then "My Big Hands (Fall Through the Cracks)," originally from the sountdrack to a Twyla Tharp dance piece, "The Catherine Wheel" (Byrne noted that Tharp's choreography for the song had been different than theirs and involved a French maid, the mention of which elicited big cheers to which Byrne demurred, "Well, okay.") They played the Talking Heads song "Heaven," and as singularly chilling and yet reassuring as that song is, I found myself thinking about how it stacked up, in terms of existential pondering and its attempt at visualizing non-existence/eternity, with the Built to Spill song "Randy Described Eternity" (I like both songs, for the record). They played "Air," the three dancers wielding unplugged electric guitars as props, starting and returning to a loose huddle with Byrne.

They played "Life is Long," Byrne and the kind of Miranda July-looking dancer sitting in office chairs while Byrne played guitar and sang, the other two dancers joining on their own office chairs as the song progressed, one of them (that enthusiastic dude) finally speeding across the stage on his at the song's end in what looked like a lot of fun. They played "Crosseyed and Painless" and "Born Under Punches."

I was expecting it and expecting it to be awesome, but I was still taken aback by "Once in a Lifetime"—god damn, that song is amazing, and that keyboard sound, all background and aqueous and yet still somehow dominating on the bridge—even as reproduced here, outside of the studio, it sounded just incredible. That male dancer was leapfrogging over his fellow dancers, then leapfrogging over Byrne. The whole crowd was on their feet and dancing, or (and I know Dave Segal touched on this in his review of Byrne's last show) kind of dancing. They played "Life During Wartime" ("this ain't no disco" etc). They finished the set with "Stuff."

They encored with "Take Me to the River" and "The Great Curve," and then Byrne said, "Wait, there's more," and introduced the Extra Action Marching Band from San Francisco. "Make room, they're coming in from the back." The band, decked out in gauzy, gaudy, and glittery white (and not much of it), proceeded onto the stage, horn players and percussionists led by flag waving go-go boys and pom-pom shaking evil cheerleaders (glad to see they're still getting work after that Nirvana video). They joined Byrne and his band for a mega-sized, martial version of "Road to Nowhere" and (duh) a totally, perfectly incendiary, building-collapsing version of "Burning Down the House" culminating with Byrne being all but engulfed by pom poms and a crush of people. Following one big bow, Byrne and his band returned for a second encore, a subdued, benedictory version of the song "Everything that Happens Will Happen Today." Safe to say everyone left feeling blessed.