When Full takes the stage, you wonder what the heck these guys are gonna sound like. While the electric bass and trap set are familiar, the vibraphone, trumpet, cello, and African drums suggest a strange combo. And when they start to play, you wonder what the heck they're doing. Songs sound as if they start in the middle, with no discernible pattern. The instruments and lead singer play around and through each other in multitonal improvisation. Rhythmic phrasing begins and ends differently for each musician, until you're reeling from the cacophony. Hardly babble, however, Full's music is complexly deconstructive, hovering between repetitive electronica and fusion jazz. A whole show might be more challenging than most of us want to hear, but they're definitely worth checking out.

The musicians do listen to each other, feeding off their combined energy, but each brings a distinct role to the group. My favorite is Jason Kirk, whose trumpet plays a more integral role than horns usually do, improvising long, lyrical lines that float above the dense mix of the other instruments. The vibes are also cool and trippy, pounded out by Tacket Brown, who jumps and dances over his table with more youthful abandon than Lionel Hampton ever had. Despite the band's rejection of classic sounds, the vibes are what they are — lovely, singing tones that offer a little relief in the midst of the discordance. The percussion — both the acoustic and electronic drums played by Sandon Klenetsky, and occasional additional personnel on various hand drums — gives the music its semidanceable rock feel. All the drums together sometimes transform the performance into an islands mambo sound.

Rick Kowal's incessant booming bass heightens the mind-numbing house-music element, but the band and its sound guys need to be careful not to turn it up too loud in the mix. At both shows I saw, the bass overpowered the more delicate instruments. Watching cellist Drew Deogracias wildly wielding his bow with serious intent, I was disappointed not to be able to hear the results.

Adding to all this sound and fury are lilting, hypnotic vocals from Kate Lamb, who writes short, inexplicable poetic lyrics for most of the numbers. Lamb usually sings only about a third of each song, spending the rest of the improv time playing djembe (an African drum) or dancing with the crowd offstage. But when she stands still at the mike, while the guys behind her bop to their crazy rhythms, her voice is like a drunken angel's.

Full is at TC's Speakeasy in Ypsilanti on Saturday, November 23.

Photograph by J. Adrian Wylie.