The two primary members of the Mekons, perhaps the most prolific post-punk band still in existence, continue the trend with this limited edition EP, available exclusively through their label's website. The Mekons first pioneered the subgenre of "alt-country" on their seminal 1985 LP, Fear and Whiskey, and they've revisited it many times over the years, but this record essentially plays as a straight country outing. It's a natural progression, but it's hardly anything new for the duo, either. It also sounds very little like the Mekons-- even the subdued incarnation found on their last album, the sublime Journey to the End of the Night. The instrumentation here is of the stringed acoustic variety, which might work were the production not absolutely dry. And the lack of percussion doesn't help, either.

The best moments on Songs of False Hope and High Values are pleasantly reminiscent of the more overtly countrified moments on Smog's Red Apple Falls. They're pretty few, though. Sally Timms and Jon Langford seem to be attempting an expansive appraisal of the mythos of American "western" themes through song, from the perspective of outsiders. The lyrics are vague, however, and the melodies clichéd examples of the genre.

"Watching the Horizon" and "Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain" are by far the worst-- such pat, boring, generalized "country" tunes that they could have been written by anybody with the slightest knowledge of the form. "Horses," "I Picked Up the Pieces," and "Anything Can Happen" are a bit better, in that they could have almost stood alongside most of the material from the last Mekons album. Still, they're barely fleshed out and given the same banjo 'n' mandolin treatment that makes the other tracks sound so trite.

The standout track on Songs of False Hope is a cover of Dolly Parton's "Down from Dover." Okay, read that line again and just soak it in for a minute. Got it? The standout track is by Dolly. Fucking. Parton. From Dollywood. Sally Timms' reading is subtle and affecting, though it does seem shameful that Parton's concise lyrics should sum up the pastoral visions of the album more effectively than any of Timms' own awkward ramblings.

The Mekons have proven themselves one of the most durable and and diverse bands of their era, and clearly, they still know how to make a good record. But I can't reconcile most of the music here with the band that wrote "Learning to Live on Your Own." That's okay, though, since it's not technically the same band. In light of their continued importance, it's easy enough to forgive and forget this little footnote from their frontpersons.

-D. Erik Kempke