Feb 10, 2020
"Come home, Come home, its Suppertime." Tapes of birds in the grotesque un-harmonious background. So is the backdrop to this eerie "Mom & Pop" Price aka Family Altar of Air monster Battle Creek Lurker from gods-knows-when. Traditional in it's fam focused format but unique with its spoken word parts and super-long all over the map "buffett" of chimes, that f'in talking organ thing, disgusted four part harmonies, handsaw: the works. So grim and filled with dark grey joy, this Family stands above the Michigan Xian herd with even-cruder angles of mutant musical attempts. Has a band photo in the lower corner that looks like the photographer was pointing six nuclear weapons at their faces. Can't get enough of this stuff. Has "Rock of Ages" but Rock has sprinted from this crude monstrosity four hundred years ago. Trust me, no one is looking for this Lp. Is a Queen City press but no label or year to be found. On a strong hit of clean LSD at 10:45pm on a Tuesday night dead of winter, this album makes you feel like your soul has been rung through a rusty laundromat that operates on the bones of forgotten drifters. Genius, but not rolling up to this squad when the dinner triangle of rotten magic rings through the empty Battle Creek fields. No sir. Hearing 11 year old Donnie sing "Nobody, nobody, nobody cared" leading into a 30 second hand saw solo can be a "moving experience" to the loner hand puppet set. Music for the unglueing seams of the shadow civilizations silently amongst us.