With the addition of like-minded wing-nut Mayo Thompson, Pere Ubu's sound changed as much as it stayed the same on 1980's The Art of Walking. Thompson's former band, Red Krayola, was doing the primitive Dadaist art-punk thing in the 60's long before Thomas and Pere Ubu had conceived of such things.

Not surprisingly, Thompson's playing brings an appropriate dose of controlled chaos to the band. Less rootsy, and more freewheeling and engagingly experimental than departed guitarist Tom Herman, Thompson's style incorporates everything from the manic surf-like tremolo-picking winding through the opener, "Go," to more adventurous wanderings outside the well-trodden paths of the 12-tone scale. He also set the precedent for the kind of proto-indie noodling that "hip" bastards like Jim O'Rourke now expertly manufacture for mass consumption.

Thompson's guitar work inhabits a workable middle ground between technical precision and total whimsy. Of course, as a band, Pere Ubu were still unable to resist the overwhelming impulse to be artfully unlistenable. As on "Rhapsody in Pink," death-knell piano chords create an ominous marching effect, and heartbeat guitar blips pulsate throughout the Sun Ra-influenced song about spending a day underwater. And there's the equally throwaway excursion in dissonant instrumental open-endedness, "Arabia."

"Rounder" is a slice of dementia disco, as bassist Tony Maimone's twists his low notes into pretzel configurations around the song's shaky structure. And "Birdies" is a traditional Ubu number-- an instrumental meltdown accompanying the inevitable David Thomas freakout: here we find our disturbed vocalist on another nervous breakdown- cum- vocal performance. This time, Thomas is intimidated by the sounds of nature and driven mad by the ongoing mysteries of ornithology.

But when Pere Ubu favor a more rhythmically-founded, near-"conventional" format, the result can be a larger-than-life monster of a song. Just check "Misery Goats," for starters. Mayo Thompson sets the tone by repeatedly picking out a skewed arpeggio. The bass and drums lock in full overdrive, yet manage to explore all kinds of subtle detours and variations on the main rhythmic figure along the way. Thomas barks some nonsense lyrics about melancholy goats-- and sometimes, he merely barks. Then you notice a sinister chanting effect closing in and surrounding the beat. So, there you have it-- a work of demented genius that doesn't really lend itself to conventional descriptive terms. And I guess if I believe that, I can stop writing any second now.

-Michael Sandlin