Vega was the lead singer of Suicide, the psychotic avant rock duo that gained some respect for the synthesizer 70s with their dark, unrelenting vision of urban decay and drug fueled excess. On their early albums, keyboard man Martin Rev played a broken Farfisa they couldn't afford to repair. Coupled with Vega's distraught vocals they made a glorious din that remains unique in the history of pop music, both tuneful and abrasive. Almost 30 years later, Vega retains his ability to aggravate and perplex us with his confrontational style. In the liner notes, the singer -- who co-produced with Perkin Barnes and long time collaborator and keyboard player Liz Lamere - credits himself with "Vocals and Sounds," which is apt; the assault he's laid down here may be compelling, but it's the least melodic work of his career. Many of the compositions -- it's hard to categorize them as songs exactly - consist of a few key phrases repeated over and over, like the frantic muttering of a homeless, street corner prophet who sees things only he can understand. Vega punctuates the lyrics with shrieks, hoots of demented laughter and snarling, sputtering asides. It's not too different from the noise he was making on his early solo albums, but it lacks the haunted melodies and natural swing of his youthful work. The record has its power, but the unremitting industrial pulse will wear on the nerves of any but the most die-hard fan. The album sounds strangely old-fashioned, a tribute perhaps to the influence Suicide had in its prime. ~ j. poet