In the world of frightening things there's scary, and then there's real scary. It's like the difference between Freddy Krueger and Hannibal Lecter. One's safely fictitious while the other's chillingly believable. In rock & roll there are more Freddys than Hannibals. GWAR are a Freddy, NIN a Freddy with a dash of Hannibal, while the Jesus Lizard are pure Hannibal – no special effects required.

A seminal Chicago quartet, the Jesus Lizard emit pure evil in their nihilistic songs, though they seem as much confused victims of the dark force as possessors of it. Their menace is like an unintended byproduct of their music and is, therefore, hardly for calculated shock value. The Jesus Lizard just go with it, streamlining that primal underside we all possess into a powerhouse of sound and spirit.

It has given the indie group a cult audience, the respect of bands like Nirvana and Helmet and a reputation as one of the best live bands around. You would swear the Jesus Lizard sold their souls to be so dangerously good.

The band's fifth album, Down, released just months after the live record Show, is yet another high point in the group's five-year career. David Yow's voice flails between shaky, high-strung whines and a deliriously guttural sing-speak, his words cracking hoarsely in strangles of anger and desperation. His lyrics are disjointed and abstract, evoking nightmarish images and sometimes even nervously funny scenarios.

Feverish guitar work by Duane Denison gives the feel of vertigo inside bent and acidic mutations of gamy garage punk, free jazz and edgy classic rock. Though constantly antagonistic, the rhythms are tight and well executed, making this album an easier listen than most cathartic rage or convoluted experiments. There's even something catchy about Down, but don't look for hooks; it's the transformation of ugliness into energy that's fascinating.

Show was recorded at New York's legendary punk palace CBGB last year while the Jesus Lizard flattened an audience that was there for the more orchestrated spookiness of the Damned. Although on Show live means live – no overdubs – it doesn't completely capture the band's notoriously demanding stage presence, a feat that seems nearly impossible.

Yow's yips and roars lie half buried under the buzz of the damaged speakers, sounding almost as if they were machine processed à la Ministry. The music still sounds bitingly clear, though, far more sporadic and rampaging than in the studio. Show also has less of a disturbed and more of a confrontational edge than Down, which may mean the band was too busy seizing the charged moment: that is, Yow slipping and sliding around in spilled beer onstage while the band dodged wild-eyed stage divers. Though not bad, Show is one of those deals that would be better if you'd been there.

Down is available from Touch and Go, 312-463-4738. (RS 697)

LORRAINE ALI