Mary Timony: Mountains

In theory, a Mary Ti-mony solo project seems like a good idea—a sedated incarnation of her band Helium. In practice, however, Timony's efforts on Mountains resemble those of Tori Amos—if Amos were ever to be in a band that played indie music. Mountains doesn't provide the perturbed edginess of Team Dresch or the kitschy bubblegum flair of the Softies. It is merely boring and undeveloped girl pop, challenging for neither Timony nor her audience.

Responsibility for the failure of Mountains lies not in Ti-mony's lack of talent, but in the record's irresponsible produc-tion. From the first song, "Dungeon Dance," it is evident that Timony's lyrics and musicianship, though competent, cannot stand on their own. Yet Mountains proceeds with 10 more frustratingly minimalist tracks in which Timony, unaccompanied, stumbles on the piano and struggles to locate the dri-ving emotion behind weak clichés such as "In the blackness/I'm always looking for something to see." There are numerous points in the album where instrumentation and vocals are hopelessly out of sync, and where syllables and beats just don't quite match up. But these miscues go without repair. Unfortunately, it has become standard convention to suppose the hipness of a four-track could somehow make up for qualitative negligence—that lo-fi somehow implies low grade.

What is most troublesome about Mountains is that Ti-mony actually has a good album in her. A few tracks nimbly avoid the pretension that plagues the bulk of the record. "The Hour Glass," for example, boasts a richer, more com-plete sound than the album's deconstructed disasters. The song blends Timony's siren-like voice with a steady rhythm section and simple, endearing synthesized effects. What results is unabashed pop, music that acknowledges its own shortcomings with a charming smile and a catchy tune. But even if Mountains—in "The Hour Glass" and "The Bell"— occasionally happens upon success, its more problematic tracks dominate the album.

Unfortunately, Mountains reflects a trend and not a fluke. From Pavement to Superchunk to Elliott Smith, indie rockers have recently suffered from either over- or underproduction, from the inability to strike a balance between technical and musical creativity. And while Matador Records executives overlook this problem from their comfortable perch atop the label's laurels, lo-fi oldschoolers like the Mountain Goats weep in their garages. And music fans collectively weep with them. (Matador)

—Thomas Kane

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