After sitting through Creeper Lagoon's new EP for about the fourth time, something truly remarkable happened to me-- epiphanic, even. For the first time in my life I experienced actual ennui. Can you believe that? Just like characters in 19th century novels! Not just dull, run-of-the-mill boredom, or impatient, fidgety disinterest, but enn-fuckin'-ui! Yeah!
Watering Ghost Garden finds this San Francisco quartet serving up a low-sodium, reduced-calorie six-song helping of Blah. Considering the effusive praise and lofty predictions lavished upon 1998's I Become Small and Go, you might be inclined to hope this EP is some sort of red herring. You know, to, uh, throw the sophomore slump off their scent, and ensure smooth going to their forthcoming Dreamworks full-length.
Or, perhaps this is just the lackluster batch it appears to be on first listen. But things get off to a good start. "Centipede Eyes" is lush, not unpleasantly overproduced pop. Remember Shudder to Think's more conventional sounding songs from the First Love, Last Rites soundtrack? Well, take out half the quality and pour it on the ground as a libation to the god of unmet expectations. You're left with a perfectly good half-bottle of Creeper Lagoon. Drink up.
"Roman Hearts" is more of the same. Unfortunately, maudlin piano lines and synthesized string arrangement pretty much torpedo the song's passably pretty melody. Also, something about Ian Sefchick's vocal inflections here hints strongly at the onset of delusions of Radiohead. Prognosis: grim.
The verse to "Big Money Struggle," a track produced by former Talking Head Jerry Harrison, is great. And if that looked like a barbed compliment to you, you get a cookie. Or a free copy of the new Creeper Lagoon EP. The verse is to the overall song what the face is to the girl about whom people say, "Well, she has a pretty face." The chorus, accordingly, is the big, ungainly ass and hunched, pimply back that makes a pretty verse more a badge of shame than a redeeming element. Or perhaps they meant for it to sound like an NBC sitcom theme song resulting from a Wallflowers Crap Music Summit.
"Chain Smoker" sports an electronic drum kit, more misplaced sounding piano tinkling, and best of all, sitar. "My Friends Adore You," meanwhile, is gorgeous. The Creepers keep things simple, adding decorative flourishes like a chorus of falsetto voices, and subliminal keyboard parts, where appropriate. But, inexplicably, around the fourth minute-- like that fuck-up friend everybody has who can't handle good fortune-- they throw in a "heavy rock" section with a jarring 3/4-to-4/4 tempo change, and a turgid, stinking guitar solo.
Then, Watering Ghost Garden draws to a close with "God Will Understand," a track that seems like more of a moody outro than a proper song. Owing to its brevity, there's not enough time for the guys to actually ruin it, and consequently, it's the EP's most successful minute.
You know the rap on these guys. Spin readers' designated "Best New Artist of 1998," lauded by the New York Times, featured on a big time movie soundtrack (well, okay not quite-- Dead Man on Campus). Though Watering Ghost Garden is an awkward, ankle-busting step off the curb for these four, Creeper Lagoon may just redeem themselves with their next album. In the meantime, this EP proves again that, apart from promoting music sales and exposure, Napster is invaluable as a guide for what not to throw your cash at.
