Looking at the cover (a spectacular riff on Suffer) or the album title might make you think this is a sendup of 80s SoCal punk. But no. The music comes from the bizarro-pop world. The closest reference I can come up with is a 90s Miami outfit that went by the name of Farces Wanna Mo, which is to say there's really no reference at all.

The Electric Grandmother Millions of Dead Clowns (self-released)

Random beats, bleeps and blurbs courtesy of a synthesizer and songs that eschew construction or, often, a coherent point. Not abstract by any means, but often a series of apparently unconnected noises and voices.

You rmileage will vary. I took on the challenge and tried to find the lead graf. Just to save you some time: There is none. This is what happens when a D.C. couple decides to fuck around (musically, of course; lots of people in D.C. fuck around, generally not in ways this interesting). I think it's best to leave it at that.

The couple has crafted some awesome art to go along with its songs (as if they were singles). The art is far more pointed and concise than the songs themselves. And that's fine. Maybe the music is just a big joke designed to see if idiot music critics like me will call it the next Trout Mask Replica. Again: It is not. It is noodling and whacktoid snippets thrown to gather apparently at random. Is there a greater statement within? I doubt it. But its very curiosity renders it worth a minimum of fascination. Weird and, well, weird. Kinda funny. Somewhat inventive in its mix of sounds. Not the second coming of TMR. That about covers things.

Jon Worley