Andy Creeggan has had a colourful career within Canada’s musical tapestry. Known, of course, originally for his work in the ever-delightful icon that is Barenaked Ladies, he has spent even more time delving into his own projects, diving into the creative machinery that churns within his mind. And with almost 12 years passing since his last solo album, Andiwork IV has arrived with a unique flourish that charms and fascinates.
The Moncton-based artist pulls from artfully different pools across the course of Andiwork IV. Describing the endeavour as a truly “collaborative album,” the precise genre of the album at large is hard to pin down and feels like it would be a disservice to such a willfully eclectic affair. Creeggan and his group of “some of today’s top Acadian musicians” conjure moments of modern classical, electro-pop, funk, jazz, and downtempo groove rock, all under the same unique bend. It doesn’t feel out of place to draw the conclusion of a more refined Ween here—Andiwork IV is truly a grinningly eccentric experience.
Creeggan’s compositional mastery is nothing short of transportive. Each track conjures fantastical locales, rich with sonic details and a stunningly solid yet strange framework. The dramatic thread that carries us along throughout the listening experience is seamless, from the smooth and cinematic riverboat jazz opener in “Judith” to the melancholy dread underpinning the grand key loops on “How’s Work?” then to the bizarrely ominous and unifying discordance of “Too Bad.” Without a doubt, Creeggan is creating the epitome of adventure and blending a cheeky groove with elegant skill.
The composite album itself that is Andiwork IV feels like a creative statement. Creeggan is presenting sounds, moods, textures, and thoughts that feel like totally different worlds. And yet they all work. “Simonette” is a standout of the album’s groove, with sliding strings, chittering chicken scratches, and what may very well be a melodica delivering a slinking sense of sleepy shenanigans. “Head Down” exemplifies the album’s use of strong, cycled phrases creating a home to move back to as this track navigates through mysterious night winds of a secluded desert.
But something very special is saved for the end. “The Pink House near the Prison” creates an immediately captivating energy for the end of this sonic collage, made all the more interesting by its anticipatory quality. As ping-ponging keys create strange loops of themselves, the distant voices of other instruments float in and out, whispering of something more beyond this place of twinkling awaiting. Here in a house, echoic, almost empty, but still pink. Pink as the sunset; pink as a brain; pink as the world.
Andiwork IV is a long-overdue return to the creative mind of Andy Creeggan. But if he was merely fostering the machinations of that mind all this time, it was well worth the wait. Through these understated structures of instrumental voices, masterful cultivation of tension and its tranquil release, and an undeniable love of the work that he has crafted, Creeggan has showcased an album that paints with every colour in his palette.