Flipping channels, I happened upon these guys doing their thing a few weeks back on that "Later" show with Craig Kilborn. They looked impeccably alterna; I think one of them was even playing a Jaguar, the de rigueur instrument of the horn-rimmed and floppy-haired set. The band played "Wrecking Ball," the second track off this album, their latest offering of musical cream-of-wheat. Needless to say, I wasn't any more impressed with the live performance of the song than I am with the recorded version.

Praise can be a bitch, and these guys got it in truckloads after 1998's I Become Small and Go. And then came the predictions and expectations. Such expectations can be a band's worst enemy, and in Take Back the Universe, I see a withered, deflated, spittle-filled hype balloon; not the Hindenberg I'd been led to expect. Some people, however, do dig this album quite a bit. Consider the following.

A reviewer writing about this very album for another online publication described Creeper Lagoon's sound as "a better version of the Wallflowers," adding that the band "may help to revive the sorry state of mainstream music."

"Yes, by Jehovah, I think we've got it! [removes monocle and wipes the sweat beads off his brow]. Were we to improve upon the Wallflowers, there is a faint chance we might successfully deflect the main stream of music, as it were, from its moribund collision course with mediocrity! It seems as if the solution was under our noses, all along! [leans back, uncorks the for-special-occasions-only absinthe bottle on the shelf, and slips on The Best of Journey]."

Huh. Well, try as I might I can't put off a discussion of the music for much longer. "Chance of a Lifetime" kicks things off, but only in the most my-grandma-takes-karate sense. Remember a silly, short-lived hair-metal power-ballad band called Firehouse? It's okay if you don't want to admit it. Anyhow, they had a hit called "Love of a Lifetime" that's strikingly similar in feel to this song. The production, if nothing else, is lovely. Those Dreamworks dollars were put to good use; Spielberg, Geffen and the one that starts with "K" ought to be proud. Maybe this will make it onto the A.I. soundtrack. Unfortunately, the song itself really does sound like a better version of the Wallflowers. Or, for that matter, any one of a million bands putting out numbingly conventional music, with only marginally better fashion sense than the Dave Matthews band to distinguish them from VH1 and frathouse fodder.

"Wrecking Ball," which I briefly touched on in the scintillating first paragraph, is actually the best track on the album. Just not quite "good," though. The chorus is pretty decent but the verses need some help. "Sunfair" starts off with some U2-style "this is dancy, but not really" electronic drums and Ian Sefchick doing some kind of "Bono for a day" shtick. I can almost see the wraparound glasses and giant Zoo TV screens, except in place of the ludicrously named the Edge, we have the even more ludicrously named Sharky Laguana. Just as you're reaching for the skip button, Sharky ditches the Edge-iness of track three for a tepid, budget-Jimmy Page kind of instrumental called "She Loves Me Not." Let's just say it's not quite "Babe I'm Gonna Leave You," and leave it at that.

"Up All Night" mercifully brings us back to the late 90's, and back to the task at hand: improving upon the Wallflowers and reinventing Third Eye Blind. Look for Ian Sefchick to collaborate with Santana in the near future. Really, if your parents don't dig this, there's something wrong with them. This is music for the drive to pick up the kids from soccer practice, or to the doctor for dad's yearly prostate exam. "Naked Days," on the other hand, is so unremarkable that, in a gesture of protest, I'm going to leave out the punctuation at the end of this sentence

"Dead Man Saloon" is a definite quality spike in Take Back the Universe's musical flatline. The melody is fair-- there's some sugary piano accompaniment and even a tastefully short solo at the end. "Hey Sister" is "Summer of '69 2001," with all due apologies to Bryan Adams. There are some very redeeming Cars-esque keyboard parts to just barely keep this track afloat.

But to continue in this track-by-track manner would be pointless. There are lots of people who like this album, and other albums by this band. I do not understand those people in the very least. I wish their children's soccer teams and their prostates the best of luck and health, respectively. As for the rest of you, I've said my piece. If you're still not quite convinced: Sharky Laguana.

-Camilo Arturo Leslie