Timothy
Monger hides nothing. Nothing at all. He wears his influences on
his sleeve, is unfazed by his inability to write music that doesn’t
take him at least a year to pen and revise, and is completely honest
that, if he could, he’d take a million-dollar studio and a
hundred-piece orchestra over the low-fi eight track recording process
any day.
That
kind of honesty, precision and grand vision come through clearly
in his music. When his independently released solo album, Summer
Cherry Ghosts, came up for group review at the office, we tossed
it on the CD player without any expectations. But when this crew
of smart-ass, beer-drunk music writers heard the strings and harmonies
on the opening track, “Cleveland Heights,” something
in the room changed. “Wait, who is this guy?” somebody
said, as Monger’s falsetto sang, “Hurrah, this is my
last dollar...”
“This
music makes me want to be in love,” one usually cynical contributor
said.
A few weeks later, it’s a Monday afternoon and Timothy traipses
into a small diner. No sooner has he removed his coat and ordered
a coffee he begins talking about Summer Cherry Ghosts, and how the
process of creating a solo record was a precipitous and uphill one
to say the least. “I think I waited until the right time,”
says Monger. “I’d always wished I’d done a record
when I was eighteen, but then I listen to the songs I was writing
in high school ‘cause I’ve been gigging for so long.
I always thought ‘I should have had an album out years ago,’
but I’m glad I waited ‘cause the songs were such crap.
I just wasn’t ready, but I think it’s the right time.”
Like so many other teenaged products of the ‘90s, Monger started
playing music in middle school, which inevitably progressed to coffee-house
scenes replete with moppets aching for the chance to pull their
heart out of their chest and play even just one song for their introspecting
familiars—even if it was just a Lemonheads cover.
He
fronted several vocal bands and started The Original Brothers Of
Love with brother/singer/songwriter James Monger in 1996. The two
began playing small gigs around Ann Arbor by fall of that year and
by 1999 had filled the band out to a six-piece, changing their name
to The Original Brothers And Sisters Of Love. They released their
parlously anticipated debut album, The Legende of Jeb Minor, a record
they’d began recording almost contiguously after the brothers
began playing together, in the fall of 1999. The album is an acerbic
and wry mixture of sea shanties/neo-prog/Appalachia folk, with a
commanding presence of maritime music.
For
their second release, TOBASOL streamlined their sound without shedding
the earnest, heartfelt broodiness of Jeb. The result was H.O.M.E.S.,
Vol. 1, a panoply of artistic adroitness. H.O.M.E.S., Vol. 1 was
released nationally in 2001 by New York label The Telegraph Company,
who also re-released their debut a year earlier. The band had planned
to do a Vol. 2 with the label, but the bottom fell out of the deal
and the band was left with a finished record, but no label to hand
it to.
“Last
fall, right after we finished the record, the label went under,”
Monger says. “They called us right after we’d sent them
the record. We’d gone so far in debt with the studio and the
band was barely hanging on. It was kind of that Fleetwood Mac era,
but we somehow managed to eek out an awesome album.” The record
will be released under a new band name, The Great Lakes Myth Society
(consisting of members of TOBASOL), and is due out early 2005.
Monger’s
Summer Cherry Ghosts remains at the forefront of his focus at the
moment, though. Released in the summer of 2004, the solo debut strays
from the beaten Brother and Sister path into a Baroque pop that
leans towards a Donovan/Left Bank sound. It delivers the same wistful
and bittersweet undertones as the band’s records, but in summery,
Sub-Popish fashion.
“It’s got heart,” says Monger. “I know that
sounds super corny, but that’s one thing that really turns
me off from the indie scene. I listen to a lot of those records
and it’s starting to get a certain vibe, y’know. It’s
sung really unemotionally and that seems to be the vocal style of
the day and there’s this whole aloof indie rock sort of thing
like ‘yeah, I’m really into this heartfelt music, but
I’m sort of aside from it, too.
“It
just bothers me. I guess the underlying thing with the record is
that I wanted to do something that was sensitive without being twee
and had heart without being ultra-confessional singer/songwriter.”
Accomplished.
Summer
Cherry Ghosts seems to be more of a dismantling and reconstruction
of Monger’s work. While the Original Brothers And Sisters
Of Love records—especially the debut—often sound like
remnants of Paul Clayton recordings that were vaulted and only recently
re-discovered, Monger’s solo work is of a completely different
vein altogether, emulating so much and imitating nothing at all.
“I’m a huge John Denver and Neil Diamond fan,”
Monger says. “I grew up on stuff that’s just as dorky
as it gets and I love it and I’ll always love it and if it
ends up that I become really uncool and start making bad records
later, I at least hope that I’m still into what I’m
doing.”
Giving
slight nods to venerable singer/songwriters like Randy Newman and
Harry Nielson as well as contemporaries like Michael Penn and Sufjan
Stevens, the nine tracks on the album brim with genius arrangement,
genuine vocals, and grounding guitar work, all of which Monger is
very proud of. The poetic lyrics sometimes suggest the voice of
Walt Whitman or even the ultra- romantic metaphorical style of Ray
Bradbury.
Small
crimes on summer days, trips to the zoo, metroparks, bittersweet
letters, aquariums, beer in jars, orchards, old flames, aggressive
sunsets and other surprises show up in twisting, witty phrases.
Unexpected instruments—glockenspiel, bassoon, harpsichord,
jingle bell—add to the charm.
“Having
not really had a clear vision from the beginning, it’s really
hard to say whether the record turned out the way I’d thought
it would,” says Monger. “I wanted to have a lot of friends
on it—anytime I’d find someone that plays an odd instrument,
I was always trying to get them on it without it sounding too cluttered.
Initially, I guess I just wanted to make something that I would
buy. In the end I listened to it I was like ‘This is great.
I totally would have bought this and been real excited about it.’”
Monger
wasn’t the only one excited about the album. Just recently
he was approached by Trolleybus, a label in Osaka that was so impassioned
by the record that they offered to release in Japan. “I put
the record out myself this summer and then these guys found me on
the internet,” explains Monger. “Out of the blue, they
said ‘Hey, we bought your record and we love it. Would you
be interested in putting it out in Japan?’ I thought it was
great. I’m getting an advance, which doesn’t happen
these days…especially from the indies. But some indie in Japan
is gonna give me how ever many yen and it’s super exciting.
Everything about the deal is so Japanese…they even want bonus
tracks for the record.”
Since
the summer, Timothy has perpetually gigged to promote the album
and has been working along side fellow musician and friend Jim Roll
to complete the bonus tracks for the Japanese release. And with
the upcoming Great Lakes Myth Society record, you could call Monger
one of Ann Arbor’s hardest working songsmiths—a man
who fashions his music from the heel of his life.
“I’d
like to do another solo record,” he says. “I’m
working on songs right now. A little more low key affair…maybe
something like Van Morrison’s Astral Weeks and see if I could
figure out how to do something that doesn’t take years with
a million overdubs.” Monger laughs. “I’ll probably
eat my words and do another huge arrangement record. I like the
idea.” A2P
Timothy Monger will be performing live on November 6 at the Crazy
Wisdom Tea Room and on November 14 at the Elbow Room in Ypsilanti.
See listings for details.
Check
www.timothymonger.com for upcoming shows and release dates.
|


|