Since its self-titled Happy Family (Cuneiform, 1995) and Toscco (Cuneiform, 1997) this sinewy and agile Japanese quartet has remained relatively dormant. But with Minimal Gods, the ensemble's colossal power and mesmerizing agility reemerges with massive doses of adrenaline and robust compositional prowess. Indeed, they haven't lost their touch or one iota of chutzpah during the interim.

Similar to other bands in the modern era of prog rock, the stylistic inferences to King Crimson are in effect, yet the quartet crashes and burns with a renegade modus operandi akin to New York City's avant-garde rock space. Shimmering with foot-stomping bass and drums, odd-metered cadences, false endings and the continual regeneration and expansion of previously executed themes, the band surges forth with subliminal melodic hooks and steamy soloing escapades.

Kenichi Morimoto's dirty Fender Rhodes sound and gravelly organ parts add some grit and grease to the excitable processes along with the relentless metrics dished out by the rhythm section and guitarist Takahiro Izutani's aggressive, distortion-laced leads. Toss in some humble and dainty synth lines to temper the demanding time signatures, their topsy-turvy and highly kinetic force-field comes at you from all directions.

On pieces such as "Cat Riding On Roomba" and "Tibidabo," they chug along like a steamroller but turn the tide with off-kilter unison choruses and idiosyncratic melody lines atop swaggering hyper-mode rock pulses and crisp accents. On the album closer "Feu De Joie," they institute a massive wall of sound via gyrating and echoing keys and guitars amid a