For most artists and musicians, the idea is to work within certain genres, to find a niche and mold your music within the boundaries of a designated sound. Then there are those artists who make valiant careers out of smashing said boundaries in favor of crafting unique and personal musical landscapes of their own.

Mike Watt, be it during his earliest days with funk/jazz/punk revolutionaries "The Minutemen" or while taking on adventurous solo excursions, has always been a product of the latter category. For years, the seminal bass wizard has been one of the music world's most adored and influential outsiders, shelling out records hand over fist both as a solo artist and through his seemingly endless list of side projects, each with its own distinct musical vision and sense of direction. No Watt album is alike, the only constant being that, good or bad withstanding, it will never be boring or stagnant.

The Secondman's Middle Stand, Watt's third solo record and first in seven years, once again finds the punk icon delving head first into the abyss, searching for uncharted musical territory in the most unlikely of places.

Performing under the alias of The Secondmen alongside drummer Jerry Trebotic and organ player Pete Mazich, Watt takes his bone-bred eclecticism to new heights, offering certain tunes that showcase his strong intuition as a songwriter and others that defy categorization almost completely. It's quite a balancing act, but again, never routine or commonplace.

What helps keep the record afloat amidst the occasional chaos is the sense of brutal honesty that permeates every aspect of the album. All of Watt's work, particularly his solo efforts, are personal, and Middle Stand is no exception.

The record is essentially a concept album, where the 47-year-old bassist talks of a sickness that nearly killed him back in 2000.

The illness, an internal abscess that left him bedridden for 40 days and temporarily paralyzed his career, serves as fuel for the album's fire. In a lot of ways, Middle Stand is like a broken compass, never following down the same path too long before turning down unforeseeable avenues.

"Boiling Blazes," the album's opening track, sets the album's inconsistent tone, hitting hard at the outset before shifting gears into a sort of meandering free jam. Other tracks, such as the gospel-esque "Puked to High Heaven" and the somewhat discomforting "Pissbags and Tubing," confront Watt's affliction head on without a trace of hesitation or regret.

There may be a lot of grey area to sift through on Middle Stand, but the album is so real and true to itself that it's easy to forgive the record's oddball tendencies and erratic leanings.

The music is sometimes off-putting, but there's a method to Watt's madness. "Pissbags and Tubing" may be aggravating to a point, but in retrospect it's not likely to be anywhere near as troublesome as being bedridden with the shakes.

The Secondman's Middle Stand is a record that will likely require a few listens to fully grasp and appreciate, but it's another solid disc to add to Watt's growing catalogue of inspiring work.

It's funny how the bleakest situations can sometimes result in small rewards. Watt may have had to stare death in the eye to get things done this time around, but at least we got one hell of an album out of it.

Grade: AB