For 20 years, The Frogs' Jimmy and Dennis Flemion have made music that's more heard about than heard, winning famous fans (Eddie Vedder, Billy Corgan, Sebastian Bach, Kelley Deal, and more) with their fearless and shocking songs about mostly taboo subjects. The shock is often based on puerile gags, with song titles that include "Love Me Or Die Bitch" and "Dead Pussy In The Road w/ Mother's Name On Top," but the Milwaukeeans are far more notorious for their concept albums about homosexuality (1989's It's Only Right And Natural, which implied that the brothers were gay lovers) and racial issues (1993's Racially Yours). The latter has long been considered too inflammatory to release—it has long circulated in bootlegs, aided by the Flemions themselves—but it's finally landed in stores with surprisingly little fanfare. Still, that quiet reception doesn't mean Racially Yours sounds quaint seven years after its creation: For an album that's all about black and white, there's nothing black-and-white about it. Flippantly addressing thorny issues (slavery, hate crimes, racial purity), Racially Yours sounds like some sort of bizarre postmodern joke, and that ambiguity is what makes it so unsettling. Singing from the perspective of both white and black (which is more audacious?), sometimes within a single song, the Flemions don't even make it clear when or whether they're trying to make a point, as if the audience's response to the shock constitutes part of the art. At 60 musically primitive minutes, Racially Yours can feel as much like cultural homework as any number of albums that wear strident identity politics on their sleeve, but it's an audacious footnote that fully earns its notorious reputation. (4 Alarm Records, 660 W. Lake St., Chicago, IL 60661)