bold and intellectually provocative, Naked is a dizzying and disturbing piece of work.

After the pop-song concision of Little Creatures and True Stories – which, although they were released a year apart, were mostly recorded at the same time – Naked marks a return to the more open-ended, groove-oriented style the Heads defined on Remain in Light. And the band has once again expanded its lineup. Recording in Paris, the Heads and producer Steve Lillywhite drew inspiration from that city's rich musical crosscurrents while importing collaborators as diverse as former Smiths guitarist Johnny Marr, keyboardist Wally Badarou, arranger Angel Fernandez and steel guitarist and Dobro player Eric Weisberg. Wilder still, a full horn section blows on three of the ten tracks. These additions to the core Heads – Byrne, keyboardist Jerry Harrison, bassist Tina Weymouth and drummer Chris Frantz – helped generate an album that fruitfully intermingles Latin rhythms and Afro-pop, funk and soul, avant-garde daring and big-band power.

The vital human harmony suggested by the international band of players on Naked is the strongest counterpoint to the album's pervasive themes of alienation and dread. The record opens with "Blind," a percussive, Afro-flavored track that instantly strikes a note of semiotic upheaval. Over an insinuating groove, Byrne chants, "Signs/Signs are lost/Signs disappeared/Turn invisible." That breakdown in order is underscored by the song's imagery of violence and confusion.

Byrne also continues to explore some key themes that have run through his work since Talking Heads: 77 – emotion versus reason, nature versus civilization. On "Totally Nude," propelled by Yves N'Djock's skittering guitar, Abdou M'Boup's percussion and Weisberg's bright pedal steel, Byrne weaves a playful fantasy of a natural paradise far removed from the madhouse world of "Blind" or the straitjacketed straight world envisioned in "Mr. Jones," the album's second song. "I'm a nature boy," Byrne chirps on "Totally Nude" as he extols a zany dreamland of "rocks and trees and physical culture."

The equally funny "(Nothing but) Flowers" picks up this theme but sharpens its edge. Despite the song's Edenic imagery, nature comes to represent its own variety of chaos. In a manner that recalls the paranoia of Fear of Music, By