Headless Household answers the unspoken (not to mention icky) question, "What if Negativland and a traditional jazz ensemble were in a terrible plane crash and the emergency room doctors decided to piece together four complete survivors from the bodies and parts found in the wreckage?"

Slapping genre tags on Headless Household has never worked, and Mockhausen is their least categorizable album to date. Though their music is supported by a framework of traditional rock/jazz instrumentation -- keyboard/piano, guitar, bass and drums -- you're just as likely to encounter turntable manipulation and aggressive trumpet-playing. "Opened House" sets the scene immediately, tossing the listener into a roiling melee of found audio, around which mutated, shambolic jazz and rock progressions flail and stagger. "For What Ails You" leans more heavily on its post-rock/fusion foundation, though found audio samples mingle at the feet of the melody. To their credit, Headless Household toss this stuff off effortlessly. Unlike Tortoise, whose compositions often seem to be held together by surface tension and intense concentration, the Household's work is looser, more robust and forgiving, and doesn't seem to take itself so all-fired seriously.

Individual Household members bring their own works to the table. Dick Dunlap gives us "Elvin (Palimpsest)", an unsettling game of cat and mouse for solo piano. Drummer Tom Lackner offers "Re-Opened House," an envigorating and rich tapestry of electro-acoustic percussion sources, filled with unique sonic "characters". And Joe Woodard, the guitarist/turntablist behind "For What Ails You", is also responsible for "Wintry (Invention)", a fairly straightforward, though distantly alien exercise in noir jazz, complete with torch song scatting. But the true joy of Mockhausen is hearing the quartet interact and improvise; these guys have been working together a long time, and it shows in the cohesive mental narrative of "The Feeling of Give".

Mockhausen works because the Headless Household never entirely lose sight of the fact that they want to entertain the listener. There are crucial vestiges of musicality -- hummable hooks, compelling rhythms or amusing samples -- in even the most experimental tracks. However wildly improvisational their music becomes, these guys play with their (metaphorical) eyes open, watching the audience to make certain they're enjoying the ride. This is a crucial distinction, as music in any genre misses the point when it is performed more for the players than the listeners -- a pitfall that the Household dodges.

I like to believe that Splendid constantly pushes readers to expand their musical horizons and try some less predictable music. As part of that bargain, we do our best to identify strong, reliable "starting points" on sonic roads less traveled. If you've been looking for that elusive path out of Musical Blahs-ville (or its suburb, Emo-Town), grab a copy of Mockhausen, sit down with your best headphones on and imagine yourself passing a big highway sign: "You are now leaving Predictable Indie Rock." You may never return.

Oh, and just ignore that plane crash debris in the background.