Tick Tock Treasury

Chronique

It's during the burbling, effortlessly melodic opening title track of Tick Tock Treasury that it dawns on you: Maintaining such musical amicability over an entire LP is next to impossible. Nevertheless, that's what Joy Electric mastermind Ronnie Martin largely succeeds at with his sixth full-length collection of new material. Constructed as it is -- exclusively from an analog fleet of Roland synths and phasers -- and guided along by Martin's winsome coo, Tick Tock Treasury is pretty damn one-dimensional. But he trusts his audience to suspend disbelief long enough to not miss guitars, drums, or any of the other trappings that normally define indie music. Once you make this leap, it's amazing how agreeable Tick Tock Treasury's saccharine glee becomes. It offers sweeping melodies complemented by gently persistent ones, and suggests early Magnetic Fields in the best way possible. Martin tends to resemble Elliott Smith vocally, but his concept-driven lyricism is lost not in love, but in an imaginary land called Roolundria and the duality of good and evil that exists there (read the fun story in the liner notes). Joy Electric's world is as articulated as the clipped, clearly defined instruments used to make its music. Song titles seem somehow perfect for this sort of thing -- "The Chronometers of Switzerland," "St. Glockenspiel's Science Faire" -- and the graphically precise cover art plays along, approximating a 2-D clip art Dali. By presenting each element in his production as a supporter of the other, Martin succeeds at giving his samey music legs. And the predominance of fluffy Pong-pop melodies doesn't hurt. "The Confectionary," "(Design) The Blueprints for Joy," and especially "Misfortune's Apprentice" will make your face hurt from smiling too much. Tick Tock Treasury definitely isn't for everyone. But for those softies in the cardigan sweater and big-glasses crowd, it's the gurgling, zippy soundtrack to a soft-focus indie romance.

© Johnny Loftus /TiVo