Creeping into the Spotlight

A big buzz and fancy, label-sponsored dinners are the surest ways to earn the ire of your quietly jealous musical peers. Lest their rise to near-prominence seem quick and cushy, Creeper Lagoon co-frontman Ian Sefchick relays this sordid tale of low-budget rock 'n' roll due payment.

"The second time we went down to LA, our band van [a '75 Dodge Tradesman affectionately nicknamed "Hercules"] had a clogged fuel filter, unbeknownst to us of course. On the way home the van wouldn't go over 35 mph. It's 3 a.m. and three out of four band members are blind drunk. I've gotta be at work by nine. We're on the Grapevine. Cars are whizzing by us. So I ripped the engine cover off [the engine being accessible from the inside of old Dodge vans] and I just went to work on the thing while we were driving. I was just praying to God we'd live to San Francisco. It took us 13 hours to get home and all we needed was a $3 part that took five minutes to replace."

If the hype is to be believed, Creeper Lagoon may have had their last hell ride for awhile. On the strength of a couple of 7-inches, a few compilation cuts and one innocent enough EP with the stunning, radio ready, "Dear Deadly" on it, Ian (eye-an), Sharky Laguna (yes, his real name is Sharky), Patrick Magnan and Geoffrey Chisolm have attracted the world beyond the Bay to their haunting little brand of looped-up pop-rock. Any local-literate Joe knows the bigs have been a' courtin', but few know just where these guys came from. So, here's your abridged Creeper history:

Ian and Sharky grew up together in Cincinnati, Ohio, where they played together for years, most un-notably in a punk band called the Rotweilers. Sharky moved here seven years ago, took a graveyard-shift job at some fleabag hotel and began recording with his four-track and a cheap sampler. Ian soon followed. Patrick, an Illinois boy, played the drums and had a studio to jam in. Several bass players followed thereafter before a newspaper ad attracted Geoff, a native Bostonian, completing this verge-of-hugeness lineup all the way back in February of 1997.

Though citing mostly similar and predictable (given their late 20s median age) punk-rock roots (save for elder statesman Patrick who cherishes Fleetwood Mac's Rumours), an exhaustion with punk's evolutionary potential drove Creeper principle songwriters Ian and Sharky to seek ways of doing something genuinely different, a search that drove them towards the mood-heavy loop stylings of bands like My Bloody Valentine and My Dad is Dead, while never forgetting their midwestern rock roots.

"We are explicitly about finding new formulas, brand new ways of doing things," Sharky, the outspoken Creeper, explains. "I fell in love with music but I never fell in love with a kind of music. There's no focus on being pop or rock or art in this band--there's just a desire to make good music."

"I think of our music as always about writing a good song first," adds Patrick between bites of his well-fried French fries. "All the noise helps out, makes it a little cooler, but if a good song isn't there, all the electronica in the world won't make a bit of difference."

Case in point, the aforementioned "Dear Deadly": One piano note is played repeatedly before Ian's urgently sweet voice segues in "Can't you, spend just a little bit of precious time for the cinema?" Just then, a minor explosion of sounds--swirling guitars, dreamy background fuzz and heartbeat drum beats--all the while the simple piano remains in there somewhere. A simple theme made more complicated, but still simple nonetheless.

"Dear Deadly" might've brought the buzz on, but there's plenty more where that came from. Creeper Lagoon have recently finished their first full-length record. The as-yet untitled LP will be out sometime before year's end on the Dust Brothers' fledgling new enterprise, Nickelbag Records, with the famed production duo themselves to remix some of the tunes. Next year the band will begin work on their major-label debut for the granddaddy of all labels (as of press time we're unable to be more specific). Too much too soon? Don't tell that to Sharky.

"Everybody in this band has been playing music for over 10 years," he says. "It doesn't seem that ridiculous for us to be doing this for a living. At this point we've played music long enough that we're entitled to do it for a living."

With so much press and spotlight time of late, one might think Creeper's egos have grown huge, yet they remain modest, genuinely cool guys way more intent on making good music than making themselves famous. Ian in particular seems unimpressed with the trappings of being the buzz de jour. Knowing the hype can easily amount to nothing, he's keeping his aspirations down to earth.

"I just want to quit smoking," he says, "take liquid minerals, do some yoga and eat more yogurt."

First appeared in BAM magazine 7/25/97
Courtesy and © BAM magazine, internet © Synthesis Network.

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