The perfect solace for winter’s passing, Creepoid’s second full-length self-titled LP combines the zeitgeist of 90's grunge with pristine dissonance and somber lyricism. Released earlier this month by No Idea Records, Creepoid is eerie, melodic and stirring from beginning to end.
The record’s introductory track “Nauda” opens with a singular note that swells into a melody, aligning itself with the listener in a way that feels confessional yet synonymous. A well-wrought continuation of the earnest diction reminiscent of Horse Heaven, “Nauda” is as bittersweet as its vocals, informed by the paradox of loneliness and longing. Expanding into a cinematically moody soundscape, guitars wail like sirens, beckoning chords to crash and settle into a fading ricochet - a premonition of “Sunday.” Coupled with acoustic strums and crisp vocal croons, a solemn request, “take my light and pull it out,” is beautifully melodic with perfectly placed tambourine that brings to mind the memorable mood concentrated. Exploring the affect and consequence of relational presence and its subsequent absence, the orchestration of “Sunday” renders a relatable narrative evocatively raw and sincere.
“Yellow Wallpaper” ignites with driving bass and swirling riffs. As if resurrecting the perfection of Jeremy Enigk (ex-Sunny Day Real Estate), a la “Killed By An Angel” meets “Pillars,” the song evokes an eerie all consuming sense of the sublime that centers the track’s duration. Like an extension of Horse Heaven’s “Hollow Doubt,” the contextual weight of “Yellow Wallpaper” is harmonically haunting and intentionally poignant. “Baptism” washes over its listener in waves of riffs and echoed vocals that occupy an emotive territory similar to lesser-known tracks by Sonic Youth, subverted and painted darker by the brooding buzz reminiscent of shoegaze greats like My Bloody Valentine.
In its decline, “Baptism” casts a feeling of transcendent submersion, befitting its namesake. With a crystallized aggression, “Gout” does the same - urgent and arresting with visceral shouts and screams. “Stay Inside” is considerably more subdued than the album’s preceding tracks but equally mesmerizing, unfolding “Tired Eyes,” a hypnotic chant of a fatigued psychedelic. “Golden String” feels slightly optimistic, while “Acrimony” blossoms then retracts into a reserved yet deliberate ballad that demands its audience’s attention like a gloomy lullaby with teeth. “Vulgar,” warm and sunlit, is lush and arresting, setting the stage for the album’s closer “Old Tree,” a jubilant ending to yet another epic compilation of clairvoyant anthems evoked by Creepoid. - Dianca Potts
