The mixing of studio and live recordings is not a new concept, but it is certainly one we don't see very often.

Only a few brave artists have delved into the realm of the "studio concert." Frank Zappa, for example, would often take his favorite guitar solos from his live shows and, after some editing, lay them over a studio-recorded rhythm track to create the perfect studio/live hybrid.

I don't know if Frank was the first to try out this technique, but his influence -- not only technically but very much musically, as well -- is a driving force on moe.'s newest release, Wormwood.

As is the case with several Zappa records, the songs on Wormwood connect with each other, forming one cohesive composition. It is full of time-signature changes ("Kids"), ambient guitar spaciness ("Bullet"), and speedy xylophone melodies ("Crab Eyes") that could have been ripped right from the weird one's catalog of songs.

But the album actually flip-flops the Zappa technique, with tiny final touches overdubbed onto basic tracks taken mostly from recent live performances.

Much of the songwriting does stand on its own as well. "Okayalright" has a lighthearted, southern rock feel that Zappa rarely achieved; "Not Coming Down" demonstrates a wide array of other influences, including drum n' bass and modern rock.

Wormwood is also a disc made by a group, not one person. Its distinct full-band feel is highly impressive.

All of the disc's three-part vocal harmonies, for example, are dead-on, but each of the group's three singers have their fair share of time in the spotlight as well. And at no point do guitarists Chuck Garvey and Al Schnier get caught up in a rock-god battle to see who can shred the strongest.

Instead, the two have become an Allman-esque guitar oligarchy that never falters. Garvey's relentless solo on "Kyle's Song" matches up fair and square with Schnier's expressive six-string excursion in "Crab Eyes."

The only prominence in moe.'s sound as a tight unit is percussionist Jim Loughlin's new grasp of his place in the group. His previous work focused on Latin rhythms and often-unnecessary contributions to already energetic jams that the group perfected before he rejoined several years ago.

But Loughlin has added a new element to his playing: melody. From vicious xylophone attacks to his harmonious vibraphone in "Gone," his bashing no longer feels incompatible, but rather essential, to the song structure and tune.

All of these production quirks are certainly not surprising choices for a band that is known for its onstage chemistry and mastery of improvisation. Wormwood has the theoretical feel of a moe. concert.

But the solidity and shine of a well-groomed, prerecorded and premeditated collection of tunes. Zappa would be proud.