Nobody likes listening to a grandmother’s long-winded stories.

Yet, the Fiery Furnaces – the brother/sister duo of Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger – thought those tales would make great music.

The Friedbergers recruited their grandmother, Olga Sarantos, to sing throughout the band’s third LP. And thus, a band which has built a reputation over a handful of releases as one of the most expansive, creative contemporary acts has tried a bit too hard.

Sarantos’ ambiguous vocals are a stark contrast to Eleanor’s sultry, relaxed, lounge tones the Furnaces are accustomed to. In fact, the call-and-response moments between the two women are so jarring and seemingly forced, they sound like exactly what they are – a grandmother telling stories and a child faking interest.

Sarantos’ treks down memory lane – in the style of 1930s radio theater – are boring, uninspired and out of place. But what can be expected when an 83-year-old choir conductor ends up in a studio with her hipster grandchildren?

Matthew’s traditionally jaw-dropping music, with exception to “The Wayward Granddaughter,” often is reduced to background organs and distant piano.

What makes the release so difficult to stomach are the few teases when the siblings return to typical form. But we know at any moment Sarantos’ speech is going to muck up the little momentum formed in her absence, making her the Jar Jar Binks of the 11 tracks.

Ultimately, the only time Sarantos would be a good idea is if the choice was between a little old lady and a bumbling CGI creature with a bad Cajun accent.