The Family Curse

There's an element of free-form psychedelic jazz improv feeling in The Family Curse's new disc Spice Rack. Vocalist Megan Tweed sings in an unintelligible falsetto over the screaming guitar chords...Taking no prisoners and keeping all knobs at 11, their angry throat-stripping electro sound seems to call for a heavy dose of cough suppressant and antidepressants...you have to pay close attention to catch those juicy morsels because The Family Curse prefers to digitally resample sounds that move pitch and tempo around...For those who prefer constant sonic attack, this band is a good choice.

- Ink19.com

...catch this opportunity to witness singer Megan Tweed crawl across the Slabtown floor screaming and sputtering admidst the sonic debris that her bandmates wring from thier abused guitars. This music reminds me of Austin's Pain Teens - a blend of industrial darkness and throbbing rock that refuses to be ignored. You can dance if you want to, but keep your finger on the trigger in case something goes horribly wrong. -- Nathan Carson - The Willamette Weekly

“...Megan danced around the stage singing maniacally with scratchy effects on the vocals. It was breathtaking watching Megan's striking stage presence and the ways in which she often screamed over a prerecorded rhythm section and (Jeff) Doom's and (Marc)Tweed's overlapping guitar riffs…The Family Curse's live sound that night was more like a cross between the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Hairway-To-Steven-era Butthole Surfers.”

-- Kent Downing, Present Magazine, April 2007 - Present Magazine

The Family Curse
Spice Rack (Fainting Room)

I was under the vague impression that The Family Curse were some sort of psychobilly band, because...well, the name sounds like that, doesn't it? Then I played the CD (always a good idea, I find). And...well, they sure ain't psychobilly, but they might just be psycho. The Family Curse make oddly exhilarating mutoid distort-o-rock, and while a little distortion goes a long way with me under normal circumstances, there's nothing here that's normal. Like an unholy cross between Captain Beefheart and the Pain Teens, trapped in a cellar with Mudhoney bashing down the door (they come from Seattle...c'mon, there's got to be a bit of grunge under their fingernails), The Family Curse grind the face of poor old rock 'n' roll into the floor and stomp over its body, rocking up their avant-noise workouts all the way. Electro-percussion clicks and chatters, an incongruous intrusion of shiny new technology into the band's dirty, dirty sound. The guitar fuzzes and grinds, and Megan Tweed's vocals - agonised blues wails, staggering beneath a weight of effects - sound like the crazy neighbours fighting on the other side of the wall. Lovely, filthy, weirdness. Which, of course, is the best kind.

http://www.nemesis.to/records.htm - UK's Nemesis to Go