Spider Compass Good Crime Band: The Carrion Luggage Organ

Something odd and oddly pleasant is on the vinyl horizon, and it is Spider Compass Good Crime Band. Birthed and raised in the fine stables of the costume and experimental electronic music incubator that is San Francisco, Spider Compass is a duo (and sometimes trio) of vultures who play organ. Their audio forays are the soundtrack you would hear while being pursued through an abandoned amusement park--the kind where crumbled plaster clown faces dominate the landscape like Easter Island relics, where ticket stubs and food containers blow across the weedy, buckled, and rain slicked (for it is always damp in such environs) asphalt like tumbleweeds, and the merry-go-round starts and stops for no apparent reason. Or maybe it's easier for you to envision these sounds as music coming from a mad organist's debilitated twin, who, with his close friends, plonk away at the keys in mischievous imitation of 1960s exotica and lounge records‹several played at once, and not a one at quite the right speed.
Perhaps the essence of Spider Compass lies in their central instrumentation. Be it considered a cornerstone for the empire of easy listening music from a bygone era, the emphatic punctuation pump for a sideshow carny's call for your attention and loose nickels, or an awe inspiring beacon in a house of worship, there's a certain atmosphere an organ can create almost immediately. And when vultures sit down to hammer out some sounds, you know the output can only detour from strange to baffling,. "The Carrion Luggage Organ" is Spider Compass Good Crime Band's vinyl debut, and it gives you a little over a blessed 14 minute glimpse into their world. This is the mechanical music of tomorrow, today. On subtle black vinyl. Edition of 300