Maybe you were stranded on Highway 40 during rush hour the last time Hayseed Dixie came through town, and instead of screaming yourself hoarse at the idiot with the Illinois plates, you spun through the rather homogenized wasteland of radio to kill time. And something stopped you dead in mid-scan, something so strange and beautiful that you forgot about your long day and the logjam of traffic surrounding you -- all of it faded away as the familiar melody of AC/DC's "Back in Black" filled your car -- but "Back in Black" wrapped in the down-home burlap of banjos and mandolins. And for the next twenty minutes, you listened raptly to the cornpone ramblings of Barley Scotch, the voice of Hayseed Dixie, the world's only hillbilly tribute band dedicated to the music of AC/DC, and it slowly dawned on you that this globalization thing might not be as bad as you'd heard.
Globalization or no, Hayseed Dixie is smarter than you think. A bluegrass band covering AC/DC songs could get old pretty quickly, but Hay-Di lateralled around the novelty roadblock by branching out to cover Kiss songs (on the resplendent Kiss My Grass album), and, in a moment of knowing, self-indulgent tomfoolery, covered Spinal Tap's "Big Bottom" (on A Hillbilly Tribute to Mountain Love), just to further confuse all us flatlanders as to Hay-Di's intentions. But who cares if they're serious about their music when they're so obviously serious about their fun? Hayseed Dixie invites you down to Blueberry Hill's Duck Room (6504 Delmar Boulevard, 314-727-0880) for a little drinkin,' a little thinkin' and a whole lotta shakin' goin' on. Tickets are $10-$12, and the evening begins at 9 p.m. with Hayseed Dixie's straight-bluegrass alter egos, The Kerosene Brothers. -- Paul Friswold
Clone to Pick
Near the beginning of Lynn Hershman Leeson's Teknolust, a scene guaranteed to turn the stomach of even the most hardened (no pun intended) internet-porn surfer gets the viewer's attention. And yet, by the end of the movie, folks will think they've just seen a romantic comedy á la 1984's Electric Dreams. What happens in between must be described as a bizarre, Cronenbergian stew of characters passing from virtual reality to Earth and back; men afflicted with a virus that leaves them sterile, impotent and with raised welts on their foreheads that sprout bar codes; and Tilda "Orlando" Swinton playing four different characters (including a "Dr. Rosetta Stone" -- ha ha). Check it out at Webster University's Moore Auditorium (470 East Lockwood Avenue, 314-968-7487, www.webster.edu/filmseries.html, $5-$6), 8 p.m. Friday, October 3, through Sunday, October 5. -- Byron Kerman
Mo' Better Mo.'s Best
Memorizing the leading agricultural products of Missouri for sixth grade geography class is boring. Eating, wearing and playing with those products is not. The annual Best of Missouri Market at the Missouri Botanical Garden (4344 Shaw Boulevard) brings together more than 100 food producers and artisans from around the Show-Me State, offering everything from fruits and flowers to toys and jewelry. For a taste of Missouri farm life, kids can milk cows, decorate pumpkins and frolic with barnyard fauna -- and they don't have to get up at sunrise to do it (9 a.m.-5 p.m. Saturday, October 4, and Sunday, October 5; free-$7; 314-577-9400; www.mobot.org). -- Jason Toon
Drinkin' in the Movies
Sometimes the woozy blur of a good drunk can heartily embiggen one's appreciation of the filmic arts. As St. Louis still lacks a real movie pub, bars like Lemmons and Frederick's offer regular movie nights to fill the void. But are there any legit movie theaters that peddle booze upfront, so you don't have to smuggle it in under your coat? Happily, yes -- among them, the Galleria 6 Cinemas (I-64 at Brentwood Boulevard, 314-725-0856), its sister theater the Chase Park Plaza Cinemas (212 North Kingshighway, 314-367-2385), and Wehrenberg's titanic Ronnie's 20 Cine (5320 South Lindbergh Boulevard, 314-822-CINE). The prices are what you'd expect to pay in a movie theater, and they may not have your favorite Belgian spiced-honey ale, but it beats cramming that metal flask down your pants. -- Jason Toon