Creature Feature

When reviewing an album, it can be difficult to summarize thoughts and feeling elicited from the music you’re listening to, to organize these thoughts and feelings in written prose succinctly, honestly, and, above all, professionally. Using these guidelines as my template, I can say with all sincerity, fuck me running, this group is terrible.

Creature Feature is the “brain”child of two dudes who, I would bet my bottom dollar still live in their parents’ basement. What they attempt to create is, according to their bio, “a band that forces you remember why you used to sleep with the lights on, a band that becomes the perfect merger of music and film.”

Sweet Jesus, what a crock of shit. What they in fact, deliver is music that’s not scary, fun, or clever. The Greatest Show Unearthed boasts songs like “Aim for the Head,” “Buried Alive,” (unfortunately not a Venom cover, though I shudder to think what these clown’s version would sound like), and “A Corpse in My Bed.” Never before have a guitar and synth duo sounded more like a guitar and synth duo. Oh wait there’s sampling. Sampled drums, that is. Courtesy of what can only be described as a Roland TR-808 knock-off. Perfect if you’re in a Sugarhill Gang tribute band, not so much a horror pop group. So we put this all together with a Tom DeLonge wannabe vocalist and poorly recreated (oh, Casio is there anything you can’t do?) Theremin sounds. Not spooky enough? Wait there’s more! You get really cool artwork that may or not be stolen from the EGreetings.com Halloween collection.

To their credit, they seem to like horror movies. To their detriment, they make liking horror movies seem really, really gay. Horror themed music can be done to great effect, whether it’s horror-punk (Misfits), horror-metal (Rob Zombie, old Marilyn Manson), or horror-pop (the uh…Horrorpops). The only scary thing about Creature Feature is that they actually seem to have a fanbase that likes this circus-y horror dreck that isn’t even good accidentally. If it were sent to Blender Magazine, it would, most assuredly make their “Albums We Didn’t Even Open” list. But I made the ultimate sacrifice and opened it for you our dear readers so you wouldn’t have to be subjected to the lameness contained therein. No, no… no thanks are necessary. I know you’d do the same for me. All I ask is that you listen to me and heed these preceding words and run far away from this shitty, shitty album.

0.7 / 10 — Kevin Fitzpatrick