Robert Scott doesn't have very much to say to you right now. When he sings with the Bats, sure, he'll talk your ear off about love and life and desperation and what New Zealand smells like when it rains. But right now, he'd rather not say much of anything.

As a prime mover in the dynamic New Zealand rock scene for the last two decades, Scott has played in the Clean, the Magick Heads and the utterly lovely, aforementioned Bats. Finally sitting down to do something by himself-- aided by fellow Cleaner David Kilgour and a few other Kiwi celebs-- his debut solo album is almost entirely instrumental. A set of pretty, quiet chamber-pop pieces, The Creeping Unknown sounds for all the world like a set of little sketches Scott threw together during his downtime.

The casually experimental nature of the proceedings works in Unknown's favor. Scott layers meandering guitar lines over pads of sumptuous keyboards. As befits Scott's bucolic point of origin, the whole thing sounds quite organic. As they slowly change and grow over their respective running lengths, the songs sound not so much written as grown. Echoing the sleepy atmospherics of countrymen like Roy Montgomery, Scott is far more interested in texture here than he is in forward motion.

Track for track, it works like a charm. The opening "Harmonic Deluxe" plays folksy, chiming guitar against soothing ambient backdrops. "Details at Play" sends a scratchy keyboard hook chasing its own tail, sounding like some experimental-techno effort to write a sitcom theme. Vocal cuts like "Last Outlaws" are contemplative ballads delivered with Scott's patented reedy urgency.

Unfortunately, taken as a whole, Scott's effort takes on a tiring sameness. Most of the songs are simple chord variations that fail to provide the momentum that a really satisfying listen requires. Instead of each song vaulting the listener into the next, these tracks stares back at you blankly, as if they're wondering what the hell you're expecting from them in the first place.

But even if it's not a harrowing emotional rollercoaster, The Creeping Unknown is a genial trip down an idiosyncratic path, each song exploring little stylistic cul-de-sacs. Without ever building up steam, the record remains sweet and lovely, like a crush that's a lot of fun to think about but not the sort of thing you're inclined to do anything about. But then, sometimes saying nothing and exploring the beauty of the idea itself is enough.

-Sam Eccleston