The Family’s second LP was an opportunity to them to override their reputation for acting insane both on and off the stage with music. Their madness has undoubtedly been the keystone of their connection to their audience since their formation, but they don’t just test the boundaries of what’s tasteful and what’s just downright offensive, they arrogantly stroll over it and spit in the face of anyone who has an issue with them doing so. Songs for Our Mothers isn’t as musically disgusting as some of the themes covered suggest it should be. In some instances, the juxtaposition of horrific subject matter with calculated soundscapes is ominously unsettling, but for the most part just bores you to tears. It tethers itself loosely to a lo-fi rock template, with reverbed, distorted guitars and a ghoulish vocal delivery, but there’s an ecclesiastical overtone that makes it all the more disconcerting. From referencing Harold Shipman in a song title to taking a moral high ground to the view of secluding yourself with drugs, Songs for Our Mothers presents an insignificant manifesto.
[FIRST PUBLISHED ON NO RIPCORD]