by Dean CarlsonLike Gomez or Cast, Belgium's Praga Khan has his head so far turned to the past that he might as well be a body double in The Exorcist. Well, except keen observers know that combing the depths of '60s rock is much more forgiving than resurrecting outmoded dance genres; only devout worshippers refuse to come out of an early-'90s "rave" haze. Which makes Mutant Funk an altogether anomalous record. With mashed up vocals somewhere between the Wrekked Train or Underworld's Karl Hyde singing David Bowie karaoke, the experience of being taken down a path of antiquated acid house is hardly in tune with 2000's U.K. garage and trance. Not necessarily a crime -- opener "The Power of the Flower" (stop snickering) wiggles its hips to the sound of the Shamen's more hedonistic highs, and "The Moon" is a dance-worthy shotgun blast to the gut -- although you might occasionally feel guilty for laughing at such unfashionable compositions. In any case, this might be some sort of attempt to mix up all sorts of industrial-funk-rave-house never heard before. Puked up like pea soup, naturally.