Nearly 40 years after the group first assembled, Os Mutantes are back with an arsenal of instruments and a large-scale supporting cast to layer the vocals and fill the stage with an ear-splitting wall of sound. On this night, as the lights went down in Lincoln Center’s Rose Theatre, an epic Star Trek-meets-Spartacus-style imperial march thundered over the loudspeakers as the band paraded onstage, smiling, stomping and waving before settling in to the opening number, “Don Quixote.” The song jumps from playful triangle, flute and chamber vocals into booming drums and pedal-crushing guitar, finally spiraling into a full scale psychedelic freak-out, replete with flashing red lights, scorching feedback, maniacal laughter, organs, tambourines, bird calls and a bicycle horn.

The band took just a few moments between songs, and as the applause died down the insanity ensued. A horseracing bugle called for the audience’s attention as red, yellow and blue lights flashed and bandleader Sergio Dias (guitar/vocals) says “Live long and prosper,” smirking while doing his best Mr. Spock.  Moments later, he was on one knee in a mad distortion-heavy solo on “Cantor de Mambo” These unruly mutants are a prime example of reality’s sublime anomalies, a reminder that in the perspective of some distant colony across the galaxy, human beings are the alien species and Planet Earth is overrun with samples of mind-bending weirdness. Exhibit A: Dias’ brother, keyboardist Arnaldo Baptista. Draped head to toe in magnificently shimmering, black and white sequins, Baptista vaguely resembled the Brazilian Wayne Newton though he has Syd Barrett’s taste for sophisticated arrangements tinged with inanity.

Irreverence, eccentricity, and natural-born musical talents catalyze Os Mutantes’ style, entwining textured vocal melodies with entrancing psychedelic-rock instrumentals on songs like “Baby,” “A Minha Menina” and “Dia 36.” Zelia Duncan replaced the sprightly, blond Rita Lee as lead female vocalist, and her bellowing, guttural style worked quite effectively on percussive tracks like the booming “Bat Macumba.”    

The night finished with an energized “Panis et Circensis,” the hypnotic opening track off the debut album that helped sound off the cultural revolution in Brazil known as Tropicalia. While much has changed since the days when a starry eyed trio of kids from Sao Paulo were turning Western music standards on its axis, there is still a twinkling sense of childlike joy to Dias, Baptista and their band as they smile widely and take their bows over the closing notes of the final number.