In the two years or so since their debut's initial self-release,
Throw Me the Statue
have grown from a one-man home-recording project to a full-fledged rock band. But don't expect a radically revamped sound with album number two:
Creaturesque
might be slightly more assured and fuller-sounding than the amiably scrappy
Moonbeams
(credit in part the contributions of Northwest indie rock super-producer
Phil Ek
), but
TMTS
have hardly lost their meandering mid-fi charms. Their sunny, lushly layered off-kilter pop songs still boast plenty of tinny drum machines, synth organs, jangly acoustic strumming, occasional bits of trumpet and glockenspiel, and of course
Scott Reitherman
's blithely casual singing and obliquely evocative lyrics. So it's essentially more of very welcome same. That said, the pop thrills aren't nearly as immediate this time out -- there's nothing here to rival the instantly grabby hooks of first album standouts like
"About to Walk,"
"Yucatan Gold,"
and (especially)
"Lolita."
The closest thing might be
"Hi-Fi Goon,"
a somewhat uncharacteristic rocker that recalls prime
Built to Spill
(with shades of
Weezer
's
"Sweater Song"
), though the bouncy
"Dizzy from the Fall"
and mellower
"Noises"
scratch that indie pop itch reasonably well, too. Elsewhere, the brief
"Baby You're Bored"
(is that an
Evan Dando
reference?) is nearly hummable and inscrutable enough to pass for a
Guided by Voices
cut, albeit far too well recorded, while
"Tag"
's dense rhythms and falsetto harmonies are undeniably
Shins-ish
. In general, the brightest spots here come through fleeting individual moments -- like the sudden influx of barreling gospel-style backups toward the end of the gradually cresting opener,
"Waving at the Shore"
-- and more subdued numbers like the shambling, gently glowing closer,
"The Outer Folds."
's subtler pleasures may require more time to sink in than the impulsive skinny-dip plunge of its predecessor, but fans of classic-styled melodic indie rock will find it every bit as summery and inviting as the backyard swimming pool on the cover, and well worth the wade. ~ K. Ross Hoffman