LOS ANGELES -- Gone were the hordes of Hollywood paparazzi and the litany of flashbulbs.

In their place were makeshift tables and activists handing out political fliers and clamoring for signatures on their anti-death-penalty petitions, and rock stars such as Pearl Jam's Eddie Vedder and folk-punk songstress Ani DiFranco rarin' to rock in support of the cause. Some among the attendees paused to listen to the spiels, but most headed straight for the gilded hall.

Inside awaited the night's most highly anticipated guest, folk-rock legend Tom Waits.

Entering calmly through the multiple doors of L.A.'s Shrine Auditorium, a majority of the crowd seemed most eager to see Waits perform as part of Sunday night's "Not In Our Name" Dead Man Walking: The Concert, an event which in every way starkly contrasted the Academy Award crowd that had graced the same entrance less than a week earlier.

Organized by actor Tim Robbins (director of "Dead Man Walking") and Sister Helen Prejean (the nun whose book formed the basis of the film), the official benefit concert for the 1996 Oscar-nominated film sought to entertain and enlighten. Proceeds from the show will go to Hope House, an urban social service organization in New Orleans where Sister Helen -- as she's widely known -- works, and to the group Murder Victims' Families for Reconciliation.

"I came because I really liked the soundtrack to the film, and I'm intrigued to see Tom Waits," said Andrea Leydon, a 26-year-old social worker from neighboring Redondo Beach who was standing outside in the unseasonably cold and windy L.A. dusk. "The fact that I'm helping out a good cause is an added bonus."

Aside from seeing Waits and aiding a cause they believe in, people lucky enough to score a ticket received many bonuses in performances by Steve Earle, Michelle Shocked, Lyle Lovett, DiFranco and Pearl Jam's Vedder and his bandmate Jeff Ament, with Rahat Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and Dildar Hussain.

The first half of the show easily could have been subtitled "Texans Against the Death Penalty" as Lone Star State representatives Earle, Shocked and Lovett played in succession. Each mentioned their home state but also railed against Texas' status as execution leader of the United States.

Earle got the show off to a poignant start with a stark solo rendition of the haunting "Billy Austin," a first-person tale of an inmate on death row. It quickly became apparent that this was not going to be a simple concert; these artists had a common cause to promote and a largely supportive, if somewhat unenthusiastic, crowd to entertain. Earle, a man with an eighth-grade education and more than one near-career-ending run-in with the law, effectively presented his tales with an authentic everyman approach.

The sedate and sobering mood established by Earle's 20-minute set livened up with emcee Robbins' introduction of Shocked and her backing band. The quartet bounded onto the stage and leapt right into a rolling blues number, during which Shocked spun a true tale of a young New York man killed by police officers who were eventually set free because the coroner "lost" key pieces of evidence. Each of Shocked's tunes stretched out to allow for her riveting stories.

Closing with an a cappella gospel number, Shocked aptly set the stage for Lovett, whose reserved manner shone through the spare acoustic sounds of his opener, "Promises," off the "Dead Man Walking" soundtrack. Accompanied only by a cellist, Lovett was the least politically minded of the evening's performers.

After a brief intermission, the man whom many had come to see -- Tom Waits -- took the stage with his band and received thunderous applause. The crowd welcomed home the man they lost to the rolling hills of Northern California some years ago. "It's good to be back in Los Angeles," Waits said, "where everyone has an angle."

Waits performed both of the songs he contributed to the soundtrack, "Walk Away" and "Fall of Troy," the first a tale of redemption, the second a haunting personal examination of the homes wrecked by a murder. Waits contorted and wrenched every word out of his body. Alternately playing piano or guitar and howling into a megaphone, he offered seven songs in total, including "A Little Rain" and "Jesus Gonna Be Here," then left the stage to a riotous standing ovation before returning for an encore.

Perhaps realizing how unfair it was to expect an artist to immediately follow

Waits' epic performance, Robbins quickly introduced Sister Helen to discuss the reasons why the show was put together in the first place. Warm and grandmotherly, Prejean first confessed to not knowing much about today's music and said she had thought Pearl Jam was a new Smucker's flavor before meeting Vedder backstage. The crowd respectfully acknowledged her speech but was clearly restless for DiFranco.

If anyone could follow Waits and show no apprehension, it's DiFranco, the lone performer at the show who didn't appear on the soundtrack. In a preshow press conference, Robbins explained why the punk folkie wasn't on the soundtrack, confessing, "She didn't appear because I was lame. I didn't get hip to her until after the soundtrack was wrapped up."

DiFranco opened with a rare but appropriate "Crime for Crime," an older song about someone who's about to be put to death. Afterwards, she explained her longstanding concern with the anti-death-penalty cause, saying, "I was living in Austin, Texas, and running with these crazy lefty lawyers who were working day and night to stay executions. The lawyers had artwork from the prisoners on their walls, and it was amazing how much beauty could come forth from a death-row setting."

After her brief set, Vedder took the stage alone, wearing what looked like a lab coat and sitting cross-legged on some throw pillows that had been assembled for the final act. He played a quick number before calling Pearl Jam bassist Ament to join him on a song he had written for the soundtrack. He called it "Dead Man Walking." The tune didn't make the recording because Bruce Springsteen had recorded a song of the same name. "Tim [Robbins] told me it was a seniority thing," Vedder deadpanned, "but we got a B-side out of it."

Vedder then called for the rest of his guests, who included former Doors drummer John Densmore on bongos and Pakistani vocal superstars Rahat Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan and percussionist Dildar Hussain. The group sat on the floor and played well over 10-minute versions of the two songs Vedder had done with the deceased Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan for the soundtrack, "The Face of Love" and "The Long Road."

Vedder's baritone was offset by Ali Khan's octave-scorching chants, the combination of which induced a trancelike state. Vedder himself appeared to be in a trance, seated next to Ali Khan, mesmerized by his performance.

All the artists came back on stage for an encore. In the tradition of most "all-star jams," this one was a mess, with none of the backup vocal mics working until the last chorus of Waits' "Innocent When You Dream." Vedder once again seemed mesmerized; this time, however, by Waits.

At one point Vedder stepped back from the mic to simply stare at Waits on the piano, lurching through the old school melody. It wasn't until DiFranco tugged on his jacket that he returned to the mic to assist on vocals.

It's a rare benefit show that brings together such a disparate group of artists, each of whom has material directly related to the topic at hand, but "Not In Our Name" Dead Man Walking: The Concert was one such event.