The opener “the habsburg jaw” moves in reverse, starting with a surrealistic loop that stretches the rhythm over a modem-like whirr. But then it gallops ahead, a jangling little number that might have worked on the side stage of some mid-’90s alt-rock shindig. Rutili uses the distinctive structure of a ruling European family (a consequence of inbreeding, no less) as a frustrated indictment of dynastic dynamics, and a lament for the ways the mighty but ignorant escape the consequences of their idiocy. After three minutes, one of the band’s catchiest songs ever shifts into a no-wave dance melee, saxes and synths ping-ponging against big bass thuds. It’s an escape hatch from a fight with the impossibly powerful, a private party with no tickets for the rich.