With a sensibility that falls somewhere between the Residents and Can, this determinedly loopy Florida quartet likes nothing better than a good beer-bong-fueled jam session — the results of which they capture in real time, letting the audience handle the editing process later on its own. The title of the band’s “official” recorded bow isn’t an affectation — Home actually did record eight albums in the two years before its release, all issued on the Screw Music Forever label in tiny editions of nth-generation cassette dubs that could be purchased only at a couple of record stores around their Tampa home base. When intently focused, Home can squeeze an agreeably synthetic, Devo-esque poptone (like “Make It Right”) from its gizmos. More often, though, Home lapses into wildly freeform freakouts (like “Atomique”) that combine electronic noise, found sound and even a bit of spoken word (if you can call snippets of surreptitiously recorded automobile conversation “spoken word”). Those endowed with short attention spans will no doubt have the easiest time making it all the way through IX.