Celebrating twenty years of creeping ambient, Slomo's 2005 release, The Creep, is not only getting a much-needed reissue, but is hitting vinyl for the very first time. The brainchild of Chris McGrail and Howard Marsden, the pairing was initially called their cyclopean slab "The Ballad of Jhonn & Sleazy," in honor of the very recent passing of Coil's Jhonn Balance. Presented here on two sides, The Creep is one long, droning, dark piece that quickly made a name for itself and Slomo, selling out quickly before a larger CD release the following year in 2006. "Recorded live with minimal overdubs & zero eye-contact," one can feel the artists channelling their grief, thoughts, and processing their own mortality through dark drones, rolling reverb, and subterranean synths.
Slomo has had several releases since The Creep, but it's their debut that has kept people talking since it was released. A very fitting title, "The Creep" is slowly moving, oozing forth, eking its way into the listener's subconscious, eschewing a grandiose entry for an insidious slither through the psyche. Looking at the piece from a 2025 lens, one can see its strength and influence though many experimental and ambient acts that have come since, its dark minimalism giving the listener more to digest by allusion than by exclamation. Ascribing the music to a prehistoric, ritualistic chamber (Boleigh Fogou), one can feel the magnetism and gravity swell with each throb and oscillation, becoming part of the atmosphere itself. A number of acts have put out very rocky/Earth specific recordings lately, so The Creep getting a reissue couldn't come at a better time. While many are off in their heads trying to escape our Mother, we should be drawing closer to learn, heal, and grow from everything she has to offer. Sonically, The Creep feels sluggish, like fungus learning to walk in the dark. But that's by design, and the piece isn't a sprint but a marathon, just two men letting electronics channel their inner beings. Part of its charm is that the pair didn't intend for this to be a release, nor did they call it "a piece." Rather, this was born out of pure need for release through sound and The Creep wears its honesty on its sleeve.
Dark and dirgy,
The Creep will be able to hit new audiences, as well as finally scratch that vinyl itch for long time fans. Although there is a radio edit for the digital release, "The Creep" isn't meant to be instant gratification, but growth and learning through time and looking inward. The slowly moving pieces within allow many different paths to unfold, like the rolling of dice, with any change of mood or atmosphere bringing about a different experience. Showing that less can be more,
The Creep doesn't need to hammer out layer upon layer or introduce new tones or ideas to challenge the listener. Instead, one must sit alone with "The Creep" while it ambles forward and allows its very few "words" to give it not only a history, but an intriguing future. For
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