When attending the symphony, there are certain unspoken rules. These rules separate the dignified and practiced symphony-goers from those who attend only for the chance to overdress and say to coworkers the next day, "That reminds me of the Symphony last night-did I mention I was at the Symphony last night?" The rules are simple but critical: Don't fiddle with your program. Don't clap between movements. Don't even think about singing along. Last Saturday night at the Davies Symphony Hall, home of the San Francisco Symphony, each of these rules was shattered as people sang, clapped and a few even danced along with the music. The troublemakers? A group of nine gangsters by the name of Big Bad Voodoo Daddy.

Strutting on stage with shiny shoes and slicked-back hair, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy delivered an energetic and crowd-pleasing performance, bringing a louder sound to the Davies Hall than any Mahler symphony could ever hope to accomplish. With band founder Scotty Morris working back-to-back with conductor Randall Fleischer, the night included old Big Bad Voodoo Daddy favorites like "Save My Soul," Morris' love song to New Orleans, as well as snippets from an upcoming album inspired by Cab Calloway of the 1930s Cotton Club. In tribute to Morris' hero, he and the band played some of Calloway's famous songs including "The Old Man of the Mountain."

This concert was part of the Symphony's "Summer in the City" popular series, so called perhaps to invoke "Sex and the City" and the conclusion that a date at the symphony will lead to sexy endings. (In all probability, it will do just that.) The summer time is when the SF Symphony agrees to things like being drowned out by a raucous swing band. Indeed, once Big Bad Voodoo Daddy came out for the program's second half, they not so much "joined" the symphony orchestra as stood in front of them and had concert of their own. If the orchestra had suddenly stopped playing, though, one would have noticed a hole. Maybe.

In many ways, it was an evening of opposites. The symphony's usual black tuxedoes, blouses and skirts were traded in for bright white outfits. The brass section got to have some fun for once, playing constantly while the strings sat bored and unappreciated. The lobby sported man-sized fake flowers, and the audience was undeniably a younger and more diverse group than usual. Swing met the Symphony, and it was extremely appealing. It seemed wrong to have so many seats in the way of what could have been a grand dance floor.

What Big Bad Voodoo Daddy do in concert is too planned and too well coordinated to be the New Orleans jazz they so admire. Solos onstage are almost identical to those on their albums, so musical surprises are lacking for those familiar with their songs. But that isn't to say the experience isn't fantastic or that the band members aren't extremely talented and passionate. Their skill is enough to make a person in the audience feel just as musically inadequate as any night at the symphony would. The pure entertainment value of a Big Bad Voodoo Daddy performance can't be denied, and there is nothing like a muted trumpet to curl the toes.

In the many years since Scotty Morris started the band in 1989, Big Bad Voodoo Daddy has retained all its original members. The reason is clear. Those nine men on stage were like excited little boys, dressed up in pinstripes and fedoras and getting people to dance in the Davies Symphony Hall. Why would anyone want to quit a job like that?

Tags: SAN FRANCISCO SYMPHONY, BIG BAD VOODOO DADDY, DAVIES SYMPHONY HALL