Further exploring the applications of the synthesizer and its ability to lead an ensemble get worked out on Pere Ubu's "Blow Daddy-O." The synthesizer is charged with keeping time as a result of the absence of a drum beat - an electronic clipping noise counts eighth notes. A number of German keyboardists from this time period work in similar modes, but for the most part don't move between pop song craft and avant-noise. Ubu, though, laces this track with Tom Herman's unique guitar sounds - similar to those found in "Caligari's Mirror." But "Blow Daddy-O" doesn't languidly offer up vocal samples. Listeners are to be drawn in with the clipping of the synthesizer. The affect is to create a disturbing musical setting with a drastically different feeling than the previous instrumental track from the album. Oddly enough though, given Thomas' penchant for clarinet, this song, with a title inextricably linked to jazz, is conspicuously void of those squalls of horn.

During these experiments, the group maintains a confusing attitude towards mainstream Americans. Their music, at times during the instrumental sections, is disturbingly beautiful. But this isn't necessarily the Ubus railing against society so much as its shortcomings.

As the Ubus continue their musical amalgamations, its work seems to presage Mission to Burma as well as Negativeland with its use of production, found sound, and tape edits. These later bands have been hailed as avant-darlings, exploding the boundaries of punk as it was being codified. But either one of these groups wouldn't have been possible if not for the previous efforts of the Ubus and Ravenstine's synthesizer. The Ubus of course still owe their debt to a vast array of musical forbearers.

Over the band's thirty plus year existence, SUMA Studios in Painesville, Ohio has been the epicenter of Thomas' recorded efforts. Every note that this band has put down in a studio has been captured there. Considering a great deal of the Ubu's recordings are conceived as art, Paul and Kenneth Haman needed to be sympathetic to the group's ethos. Luckily they are.

Much has been made of Ubu's prescient noise and clatter recorded at SUMA. But to regale the group with credit regarding the bolstering of nascent music scenes is a bit much. To believe that the Ubus, all in their twenties, devised a grand plan to change the landscape of music is at best preposterous. Being interwoven with members of the Dead Boys makes this sort of pre-figured trajectory even more remote. And while the Dead Boys have been hailed as punk stalwarts themselves, listening to Young, Loud and Snotty reveals a pop band with ample Rolling Stones' chops. The Ubus function in much the same way - their musical palette is simply expanded to include a vast many different musical precursors.

In encompassing these disparate musical concepts, Pere Ubu doesn't really defy cultural trends - it reflects upon those accepted ideas and is sometimes a part of them. The subject matter addressed in "On the Surface," for example, could have come from a Beach Boys song. And on "Dub Housing," the drumming isn't quite a one-drop style, but coupled with the heavy bass line and the choppy, rhythmic guitar creates a solid foundation for Thomas' rant. Seemingly, the band aims to find different musical settings for Thomas to unleash these squealing diatribes - and they succeed in finding a wealth of backdrops all flowing from the musics' recorded past.