Like the Residents and Caroliner before them, Macula Dog is the type of band that is virtually impossible to imagine existing without bizarre, elaborate costumes. The group refer to themselves as a "four-person electronic duo," as the two humans perform with life-sized puppets strapped to their backs. All four beings are dressed identically, and they all have the last name Brothers. Their music is every bit as messy, colorful, and confusing as their appearance. Squishy electronic textures collide with bleating MIDI horns, toy pianos, and the most warped vocals imaginable. Certainly Devo is a major influence (when the vocals are less obscured, they sound a heck of a lot like Mark Mothersbaugh), but while the helmeted heroes from Ohio began as an angular, primitivist art-punk band before going full-on new wave, it's hard to imagine Macula Dog ever writing anything as catchy or polished as "Whip It." Their recordings are closer to mutated cartoon music or soundtracks for surrealist experimental films. It's entirely appropriate that their music has been featured on public access television broadcasts in New York City, as well as Cartoon Network's late-night Adult Swim programming block. It also makes sense that the members have an extensive résumé of comics, animations, visual art, and multimedia works, and that they run a cassette label (HAORD Records) and have ties to other unabashedly weird, forward-thinking labels like Orange Milk Records. Their first proper album (following a self-titled 2015 cassette) is a neon rainbow-colored splatter of disconcerting electronic goop. Many of the tracks are brief instrumental fragments, but there's a decent amount of songs that reveal their pop-influenced side. Chunky, oblong cut "Grayed Out" seems like their attempt at a left-field new wave radio hit (it even approximates a catchy chorus), but it ends up sounding like a particularly bugged-out Barnes & Barnes song. Drunken waltz "Iron Or Iron Or" sounds like a SMiLE-era Beach Boys song covered on a hacked, modified copy of Mario Paint, filled with sloppy drum rolls and flat, sour digital horns. The frantic "Tone Pig" is much further off the deep end, with a dense flurry of rapidly stuttering electronic drums colliding with Charles Dodge-like computer voices and cartoon sound effects, pausing in the middle for a sparse, awkward midsection. It pretty much goes without saying that it takes a certain sense of humor or taste for absurdity in order to appreciate what Macula Dog is doing, but it's undeniable that they have a unique vision.