Creed album

Most critics and pop music trainspotters didn't give Creed's 1997 debut, My Own Prison, much credit upon its release, even though it wound up going multi-platinum. At the time, Creed seemed like one of many heavy post-grunge guitar outfits -- especially to the disinterested observers who tend to name genres and classify bands. So, when the group unleashed their second album, Human Clay, in 1999, the industry, critics, and record collectors alike were stunned -- positively stunned -- when it entered the charts at number one, and then in the upper reaches of the charts for months on end. Nobody could figure out why this group managed to not just survive, but to thrive, when such fellow travelers as Our Lady Peace fell by the wayside. After all, at the time, not only were post-grunge bands dying, but so were such grunge heavyweights like Pearl Jam and Soundgarden's Chris Cornell. Listening to Human Clay doesn't really reveal any insights, either, since it is hard rock rooted firmly in the Seattle vein, complete with really big riffs and intensely introspective lyrics. Then, a realization sets in: unlike their influences -- from Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains to Stone Temple Pilots -- Creed is happy to be a rock band. Their music may not be particularly joyous, and they may even favor foreboding, heavy riffs, but they're not trying to stretch into political causes or worldbeat like Pearl Jam; they're not reveling in dark psychedelia like Soundgarden; nor are they attempting a glam rock Abbey Road like Stone Temple Pilots. Creed is a straightforward grunge and hard rock band, embracing everything that goes along with that, and doing it pretty well. They might not have as strong an identity as their forebrothers, but they're not faceless, especially in the late '90s, an era when most popular hard rock is either rap-rock, industrial-tinged, or plain out thuggish (at times, of course, it's all three). Creed has more class than that, and they write relatively solid riffs and hooks. It may not be the kind of thing that knocks out critics or grunge purists, but it does deliver for anyone looking for direct, grunge-flavored hard rock. Within that realm, the band does mix things up a bit -- it's not all mid-tempo sludge: there are also ballads and some high-octane, up-tempo rockers -- and that makes Human Clay a stronger, better-paced record than its predecessor, which wasn't bad either. It's hard to tell if Creed has staying power, on the basis of these two records. However, Human Clay does make it clear that there is an audience for post-grunge hard rock, as long as it's delivered without pretension, and as long as it meets the audience's desire for straight-ahead, hard-hitting music. [The Dutch edition appends a second disc that features the following songs: "To Whom It may Concern," an acoustic version of "What's This Life For," "Young Grow Old," the single version of "Higher," and an edited version of "Is This the End."]

The week Creed released their fourth album, Weathered, lead vocalist Scott Stapp mentioned in an interview that they didn't really care about the widespread critical disdain for his group, since Led Zeppelin wasn't appreciated either -- not until they released their fourth album in 1971, that is. Stapp's assessment is a little off; Zeppelin never really enjoyed good reviews by most of the rock-crit establishment -- at least until 1988 when Zep-mania gripped the nation and even prompted Rolling Stone to put Robert Plant on the cover -- but his sentiment is right on target since he's saying Creed isn't a band for the critics, they simply do what they do and the proof that they're right is in the millions of fans. Well, Creed certainly isn't a critic's band, but not because critics hate heavy rock -- grunge sorta blew that bugaboo out of the water when it became mandatory to take anybody with heavy guitars seriously -- but because Creed simply works very earnestly within a tradition without ever expanding it, without ever adding humor or even cracking a smile. R.E.M. and U2 may have had the weight of the world on their shoulders during the first Bush era, but they lightened up occasionally; Creed never does. They are a very serious band, realizing that the world is very serious, so music is a serious business, a way of expressing their faith, passion, yearning, and love -- all things that are quite serious, so they should be treated seriously. Their hearts are in the right place -- let it never be said that they're only in this for the money or the fame; they even advertise Stapp's With Arms Wide Open Foundation charity in the liner notes -- but the earnestness in their approach is magnified by their resolutely unimaginative neo-grunge. Try as they may -- and they do, bringing in the Tallahasee Boys Choir for "Don't' Stop Dancing," incorporating a Cherokee Indian prayer on "Who's Got My Back," sprinkling the album with some keyboards, and stretching out to near-epic lengths occasionally -- they don't break from that template, and to all but the hardcore, this is simply another Creed record, one that has the same faults or virtues, depending on your viewpoint. And that's why Creed isn't Led Zeppelin, even though both were slagged by critics, say what you may, Zeppelin changed on each of those first four records, where Creed has stayed the same. (This does get the honorary Fred Durst's Chocolate Starfish award for worst album cover of the year, however.) [An import edition came with a bonus VCD featuring the videos for "What If," "Higher," and "With Arms Wide Open."]

Most critics and pop music trainspotters didn't give Creed's 1997 debut My Own Prison much credit upon its release, even though it wound up going multi-platinum. At the time, they seemed like one of many heavy post-grunge guitar outfits -- especially to the disinterested observers who tend to name genres and classify bands. So, when the group unleashed their second album, Human Clay, in 1999, the industry, critics, and record collectors alike were stunned, positively stunned, when it entered the charts at number one, then stayed in the upper reaches of the charts for months on end. Nobody could figure out why this group managed to not just survive, but thrive when such fellow travelers as Our Lady Peace fell by the wayside. After all, at the time, not only were post-grunge bands dying, but so were such grunge heavyweights as Pearl Jam and Soundgarden's Chris Cornell. Listening to Human Clay doesn't really reveal any insights, either, since it is hard rock rooted firmly in the Seattle vein, complete with really big riffs and intensely introspective lyrics. Then, a realization sets in: Unlike their influences -- from Pearl Jam and Alice in Chains to Stone Temple Pilots -- Creed is happy to be a rock band. Their music may not be particularly joyous and they may even favor foreboding, heavy riffs, but they're not trying to stretch into political causes or worldbeat like Pearl Jam; they're not reveling in dark psychedelia like Soundgarden; nor are they attempting a glam Abbey Road like Stone Temple Pilots. Creed is a straightforward grunge and hard rock band, embracing everything that goes along with that, and doing it pretty well. They might not have as strong an identity as their forefathers, but they're not faceless, especially in the late '90s, an era when most popular hard rock is either rap-rock, industrial-tinged, or plain out thuggish (at times, of course, it's all three). Creed has more class than that and they write relatively solid riffs and hooks. It may not be the kind of thing that knocks out critics or grunge purists, but it does deliver for anyone looking for direct, grunge-flavored hard rock. Within that realm, the band does mix things up a bit -- it's not all mid-tempo sludge, for there are also ballads and some high-octane, up-tempo rockers -- and that makes Human Clay a stronger, better-paced record than its predecessor, which wasn't bad either. It's hard to tell on the basis of these two records if Creed has staying power. However, Human Clay does make it clear that there is an audience for post-grunge hard rock, as long as it's delivered without pretension and as long as it meets the audience's desire for straight-ahead, hard-hitting music. [The Australian release includes a bonus track -- "Young Grow Old" -- and a bonus disc with more bonus tracks: "To Whom It May Concern," "Roadhouse Blues," "Is This the End," and acoustic versions of "What's This Life For" and "With Arms Wide Open."]

Originally released on the band's own label, Creed's debut album, My Own Prison, was re-released on Wind-Up Records in a remixed form. The remix was designed to accentuate the group's powerful post-grunge sound so it could find a crossover audience. Evidently, the gambit was successful since the album became a platinum hit shortly after the title track was issued as a single. Creed don't have an original or distinctive sound -- they basically fall into the category of post-Seattle bands who temper their grunge with a dose of Live earnestness -- but they work well within their boundaries. At their best, they are a solid post-grunge band, grinding their riffs out with muscle; at their worst, they are simply faceless. The best moments of My Own Prison suggest they'll be able to leave post-grunge anonymity behind and develop their own signature sound. [A Japanese version included bonus tracks.]

Originally released on the band's own label, Creed's debut album, My Own Prison, was re-released on Wind-Up Records in a remixed form. The remix was designed to accentuate the group's powerful post-grunge sound so it could find a crossover audience. Evidently, the gambit was successful, since the album became a platinum hit shortly after the title track was issued as a single. Creed doesn't have an original or distinctive sound -- they basically fall into the category of post-Seattle bands who temper their grunge with a dose of Live earnestness -- but they work well within their boundaries. At their best, they are a solid post-grunge band, grinding their riffs out with muscle; at their worst, they are simply faceless. The best moments of My Own Prison suggest they'll be able to leave post-grunge anonymity behind and develop their own signature sound. [My Own Prison is also available in an import release.]