On Mingus’ The Clown, I referred to the composer/bandleader’s ability to balance beauty and chaos. On Oh Yeah, he eschews both the more pleasant side of that balance and his upright bass, leading a sort of post-apocalyptic blues album from piano.

Now freed to be as chaotic as he wants, Mingus also frees up his voice, allowing his absurdist sense of humor to flow freely. The result is songs like Lord, Don’t Let Them Drop That Atomic Bomb On Me, a tongue-in-cheek negro spiritual for the post-nuclear age, and Eat That Chicken, a rip-rolling, dadaist rollick. Even when he’s not attached to discernible lyrics, Mingus whoops and hollers and hums and “oh yeah!”s passionately, adding a savage fury here not found on many other jazz albums. Beyond Mingus himself, the musicians he surrounds himself with excel both at traditional playing styles as well as coming as unhinged as their fearless leader requires, at times sounding much more numerous than the seven members on record.