When Steven Bernstein started playing weekly gigs with a new group called Sex Mob, first at the Knitting Factory Tap Bar, then at Tonic, I was among many who thought the group was a droll side project for this talented trumpeter. Bernstein's main endeavor at the time was Spanish Fly, a minimalist jazz trio with a dash of funk. He was also putting in star turns as a core member of John Lurie's Lounge Lizards, as well as Don Byron's group, and the long dormant Kamikaze Ground Crew. When I first encountered Sex Mob, and their clever repertoire of unlikely source material (James Bond themes, the Macarena, Prince, the Hokey Pokey, et al) I smiled and nodded and considered myself "in on the joke." The joke was on me in 1998 when Sex Mob released their brilliant first album, Din of Inequity, which has since gone on to achieve legendary cult status, and has fueled Sex Mob with metric tons of positive ink in all kinds of legitimate publications. They've become the celebrated low-art-jazz combo of the day, firmly grasping the baton from the long quiet Naked City. What's so exciting is how worthy Sex Mob is for every lick of praise.

Solid Sender, the awaited follow up album, is a complete success, and what it lacks in sneak attack, it makes up for in innovation. The wacky covers are all still here: from Abba to the Dead, Nirvana to Buffalo Springfield. There are some production tricks, like looping, scratching, intended over modulation. There is also some of the most glorious use of pseudo-70s strings since the John Spencer Blues Explosion's mid-90s masterpiece "Orange."

What the hell is Sex Mob? Sex Mob is to jazz what Frank Zappa's "Hot Rats" is to guitar rock. Bernstein and crew force their instruments to make noises they were never intended to make. There is cacophony always just round the bend, and the band dares the listener to jump off the cliff with them. The use of popular rock tunes, a gimmick to be sure, can act either as a linear anchor, comic counterpoint, or, as is the case with "Please, Please, Please," "Ruby Tuesday," "Don't Be Cruel," and "About A Girl," just an excuse to jam out on a solid riff.

The basic M.O., which goes back to Bernstein's days with the Kamikaze Ground Crew, is to have the bass and drums thumping like carnival music. This is not Blue Note jazz. The beat is totally from the New Orleans Funeral and Ragitme era (which is the main difference between Sex Mob and the Lester Bowie Brass Fantasy, the only other group who made music similar to this.) There are funk beats melding straight into metal beats. "The Grind" has a John Bonham-like opening, and the looping standup bass is like a big, sloppy, bouncing fish. The slide-trumpet and alto repeat lengthy Zappa-type phrases, trading off some space to just wail into the cosmos. The cellos frame this with an eerie dissonance--this is dangerous funk.

The big highlight is the oft-car commercial opted "For What It's Worth." The metronome of sax notes pinging at the refrain's boundaries, cello droning the melody, and bass getting all "Walk On The Wildside" creates a wonderful and surprising melancholia. Turned upside down and on its ear, this classic rock warhorse can still bang some emotion out at you, even the intended emotion. How's that for an update?

Bernstein's originals pepper the disc with some spaced-out funk, placing him in the pantheon of jazz-rock composers like George Clinton and Sun Ra. "Solid Sender" is every bit as good as the first record, and I'm sure it'll be parked in my player for much of the year.