Waltzing in to the Hotel Northampton bar for a post-performance white Russian, I realized I was one of about three "Jones-ers" who'd actually get the chance to ask those questions. At first, only the two sidemen in Jones' new power trio, guitarist Nick Beggs and drummer Terl Bryants, were actually present.

There was an empty stool between them, however, and although another admirer in a Bruins jacket whispered that he thought Jones had gone to bed, the legendary Zeppelin bassist soon strolled in.

With the room now equal parts band members and fans who had just seen them play, we all knew it was just a matter of time before the conversation turned to music.

For the time being, though, it seemed Beggs wanted to talk about death and basketball.

"Did they determine the cause for Wilt Chamberlain?" he inquired politely, turning away from the TV screen he'd just heard the news from.

We did our best to answer him, threw in how many women Chamberlain supposedly slept with for good measure, then got to the question that was burning with all of us.

What the hell was that thing he was playing all night?

Turns out it was a "Chapman Stick" -- invented by Emmett Chapman. As those who attended the show witnessed, the mutli-stringed instrument allows a high degree of versatility and thus was the perfect tool for the job at hand. As Jones scrambled around the stage among his numerous basses and keyboards, Beggs used the Chapman to great effect -- soloing in the higher registers over Jones' thunder and holding down the bottom when the headliner went north.

One would expect an instrument with such broad range to be difficult for a soundman to adjust to, and for this night, at least, that was the case. Between long stretches of solid mixing, Beggs and his Chapman alternately soared to blistering volumes and dipped to almost inaudible levels. The Northampton show was the first stop on the long, winding North American tour, however, so it's likely that such audio incongruities will taper off in time.

For the record, Beggs has also worked with Howard Jones and Belinda Carlisle and was a founding member of the short-lived Kajagoogoo (Come on, you remember "Too, shy, shy. Hush, hush, eye-to-eye," don't you?).

By this point, we had also caught the ear of the far-more-significant-than-Howard Jones at the bar.

As promised in our phone interview a week earlier, John Paul Jones had delivered faithful representations of the nine-song effort that effectively marks his first solo LP, Zooma. Songs like the title cut, "Grind" and "Goose," with their powerful grooves and muscular riffing, washed over the crowd (mostly musicians) like a rainstorm on a 100-degree day.

Grittier, blues-based pieces like the slithering "Snake Eyes" or "Nosumi Blues" were also well-received. In an evening of instrumentals, it was these tunes that made one secretly wish that Jones -- rather than Zep guitarist Jimmy Page -- had formed a kinship with the Black Crowes. One can only imagine what a hepped-up Chris Robinson could do over such infectious canvasses.

Still other tracks, like the haunting "The Smile of Your Shadow" -- worthy of a spot on "LED ZEPPELIN III" -- just made most wonder how the heck three people could stir such a sonic stew.

"We weren't sure ourselves how we were going to do that one," Jones laughed later. "Luckily, Nick has multiple personalities, so we had them all play."

Not surprisingly, the night's scattered Zeppelin resurrections brought a "whole lotta love" the band's way. Although Bryants seemed to play dead throughout a portion of "Black Dog" -- he all but stopped as he forgot a section of the chorus -- turns at Jones' signature keyboard piece, "No Quarter," and a raucous "When the Levee Breaks," complete with Jones on the "bass lap steel," were downright haunting.

In an evening filled with such history, intensity and masterful chops, the sheer contrast created by the pared-down "Bass N' Drums," a jazzed exchange between Bryants and Jones, was as refreshing as it was intimate.

And leave it to Jones to come up with the greatest understatement of the century in response to this observation.

"Yeah, it's a lot of fun," he noted. "I thought maybe a few people would like to hear me play the four-string."