Certainly, monster musicianship counts for something. Pygmy -- a frenetic five-piece with members scattered across Miami-Dade County -- has that part sewn up. On the band's new full-length CD, The Council of Important Scientists Say NO!, you'll certainly encounter dancing strings, cocktail chords, bizarrely backward arpeggios, and John Zorn-like arithmetic cacophony, slowing down and speeding up with the out-of-control frenzy of a locomotive descending a steep grade without brakes. But wait, there's more. Pygmy also has the threads. These young Cuban/Dominican/Peruvian/American kids wear blazers, cardigans, polished dress shoes, button-down shirts, and ties on-stage. No mere fashion victims, though, Pygmy is best-known for performances so energetic that band members (and their shoes) separate from the stage like fur flying in a cat fight, feet rarely touching floors. This combination of spastic energy, conflagration potential, unconventional harmonic structures, singer Adames' lean, feline croon, and a penchant for song titles like "Nous Vetement D'Hiver Sont Beaux" make Pygmy the most dangerous -- and worthwhile -- band around. The hunt for these Pygmies is most fruitful at Ray's Downtown in West Palm Beach, Club Q in Davie, the Alley in Miami, or the Factory in Fort Lauderdale.