Where to start? Self-released in 1996, Makkiwhipdies' first (and only) album makes absolutely no sense. Rock band, synthetic orchestra, comic act, sound collage, conceptual album about nothing, His Name is Nnnnnn will have you scratching your head over and over again. Nnnnnn and his sidekick Clone are engaged in a quest for "something," as presented in "Increasingly Pathetic," (Track Seven) but "Chapter Five" according to the narrator. There is great electric bass work, catchy synth melodies, psychedelic rock, fragments of instrumental pop songs repeated over and over, musical developments that evoke both progressive rock and Frank Zappa's "Adventures of Greggary Peccary." The album is split into two multi-part suites, "Neglecture" and "Garkopelian Delight." "His Name is Nnnnnn," Part One of the first suite, is a 20-minute self-contained suite in itself, where a sloppy bass motif and a singing rabbi battle for your attention amidst tons of disconnected themes and asides. Two or three shorter tracks, like "Always Merry and Bright," "Kazoo" (hilariously insignificant), and "Nnnnnn Hibachi Salesman, Basketball Star" (please don't ask) can be seen as more traditional, single-minded tunes. But when listened to in one sitting, distinctions between tracks become tedious, and the album as a whole turns into a glorious pile of absurdities. Yes, glorious. Because the stupidest part of all this is that His Name is Nnnnnn is infuriatingly addictive. The mouth whistles the melodies while the mind desperately tries once more to make sense of these 70 minutes of music. And it fails. And that's why Makkiwhipdies succeed. Recommended, but only to the most warped, absurdist minds out there.