One factor that made Jefferson Airplane an interesting band was the diversity of styles the individual members brought to the mix.

Co-founder Marty Balin wrote love songs drawn from his folk roots, shaping the band's early sound with heartfeld odes like "It's No Secret," "Today" and "Coming Back to Me." Paul Kantner, another originator, contributing elements of science fiction ("Crown of Creation," "Have You Seen the Saucers?") and protest ("We Can Be Together," "Wooden Ships") in later years.

Grace Slick, following her two classic hit singles, tended toward the avant garde with compositions along the lines of "rejoyce," "Lather" and "Would You Like a Snack?" (something she recorded with members of the Mothers of Invention). The band's longest-serving drummer, the late Spencer Dryden, also took some cues from Frank Zappa, as evidenced by "Chushingura" and "A Small Package of Value Will Come to You, Shortly."

Coming from the roots/blues end of the spectrum were the band's primary instrumentalists, Jorma Kaukonen on lead guitar and Jack Casady on bass, who first played together in the D.C. area seven years before they reunited in the Airplane in 1965. Jorma particularly had focused on the blues, teaming the year before in a San Francisco-based duo with a raspy-voiced singer named Janis Joplin before she decided to return (temporarily) to her native Texas.

By the late '60s, Jefferson Airplane had become a real melting pot as far as what audiences were likely to hear. The sequence on the band's live album of the period, "Bless Its Pointed Little Head," provides a snapshot: a Marty rocker is followed by one of Grace's hits, leading into Paul's trippy rendition of Donovan's "Fat Angel." And then a fuzz-toned run from Jorma's Epiphone leads into the blues standard "Rock Me, Baby."

And there is as good a place as any to start the odyssey of Hot Tuna, once referred to as a "Jefferson Airplane spinoff" but eventually the primary career choice for Jorma and Jack, who still are at it 35 years after the Airplane ceased to exist. They did split up for a bit, and they've both been involved in numerous other projects, but they still keep coming back to what their fans affectionately call "HFT." (As in "Hot," "Tuna" and a certain abstract adjective in the middle.)

Last week, Hot Tuna played at the classy Whitaker Center for Science and the Arts in my old hometown of Harrisburg as part of the second leg of the group's fall tour. For this round, drummer Erik Diaz joins the lineup (with Jorma, Jack and multi-instrumentalist Barry Mitterhoff) for a dose of Electric Hot Tuna.

See, this is a band with a somewhat of a split personality. Its first album, "Hot Tuna" (1970), features Jorma on acoustic guitar; subsequently, he plugged in for some recordings that eventually verged on heavy metal, such as "Hoppkorv" (1976). In recent years, Hot Tuna had been strictly an acoustic act - after all, Jorma and Jack are approaching senior-citizen status. But at the urging of Jorma's wife, Vanessa, he's brought his electric guitars out of the mothballs.

Current shows feature two sets, one acoustic and one electric. In Harrisburg, the setlist for the acoustic portion was familiar to longtime Tuna fans, with the classic first album amply represented and the trio (Jorma, Jack and Barry and mandolin, banjo, guitar - you name it) dipping into the Airplane repertoire for a lengthy rendition of my personal favorite song from that era, the traditional "Good Shepherd."

Band members were in a jovial mood throughout the night, frequently joking about their advancing age. (Jorma at one point told about mentioning a youngster he once played in Jefferson Airplane, and the boy replied, "My grandfather likes that band!") And once, during a bit of discussion between Jorma and Jack about how a song should start, Barry provided a quip along the lines of: "Ladies and gentlemen, these are members of the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame!"

The second set was a real treat. (I personally had never seen the Electric Tuna before.) The set drew heavily from "Hoppkorv," which for some reason is one of the few Hot Tuna albums that's currently out of print. Jorma fired away in his instantly recognizable tone, and Jack showed he hasn't lost a step in the type of fluid rock bass playing he pioneered decades ago. Erik provided a steady beat and really put on a show during his solo in an extended "Funky #7."

A surprise was the electric playing of Barry, who plugged in a variety of mandolin-like instruments (such as something he called the "Swamp Cat") to help propel the sound. I'd always respected his skills in an acoustic context, but the hyperamplification displayed a new side to his versatility.

As an encore, Hot Tuna did a hard-rocking version of bluesman Lightnin' Hopkins'
"Come Back Baby," which brought it all back home, in a manner: Jorma recorded one of his first lead vocals for Jefferson Airplane on that song, 39 years ago.

The more things change ... well, you know the rest.