No pyrotechnics, lip-synching or choreography — Sunday's Nickel Creek concert at Parrish Auditorium was the perfect antidote to Saturday's Britney blow-out.

        Instead of hype and hokum, the youthful trio served up a masterful evening of genuine, heartfelt music spiced by the jaw-dropping virtuosity of 20-year-old mandolinist Chris Thile.

        With a sound that combines the edgy, melodic pop of REM, the soft harmonies of CS&N and the free-flowing sound of the David Grisman Quintet, Nickel Creek is the hottest band on today's bluegrass/new acoustic music scene.

        The group — Mr. Thile and siblings Sean, 24, and Sara, 20, Watkins (guitar and fiddle, respectively) plus touring bassist Derek Jones — sold out the 450-seat hall on the Hamilton campus of Miami University six weeks in advance.

        The crowd included a number of teens and pre-teens, evidence of a youthful fan base that has caused some to dub the group the Backstreet Mountain Boys.

        Nickel Creek's youthfulness came out in its members' motor-mouthed stage patter. They addressed the multi-generational audience as “you guys” and rattled on about one another's beverage preferences (Chris, Coke; Sara, Perrier; Sean, iced mocha) and confessed to their reliance on stylists to “look cool” for videos.

        Their youthful exuberance really burst through when they started playing. With no opening act, they were onstage for an hour and 45 minutes, mixing original songs such as Mr. Watkins' “Let It Fall,” the title track of his solo album, with blazing instrumentals such as Mr. Thile's “Ode to a Butterfly” or the traditional “St. Anne's Reel.”

        They tossed in some bluegrass gospel, as Ms. Watkins sang “You Don't Have to Move That Mountain.” Mr. Thile even breathed contemporary life into the old British ballad, “The House Carpenter.”

        But it was on the band's epic combination of the nursery rhyme, “The Fox” and Bob Dylan's “Man Gave Names to All the Animals” that Mr. Thile (who released his first CD at 12) really came into his own.

        Fairly exploding out of his sneakers, he rocked that mandolin and brought the crowd to its feet. And he managed it without once baring his midriff.

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