Imagine that one morning, as you step out your front door, you are kidnapped by a gang of sadists who whisk you away to their rural hideout-cum-commune. Once there, you're forced to down seven bottles of cough syrup and watch the DVD Special Edition of Weekend at Bernie's III, replete with recovered lost scenes, cast interviews, and an extended where-are-they-now segment. Amused but unsatisfied, your captors force-feed you a rainbow assortment of psychiatric drugs, and then make you transcribe a stack of middle-school civics textbooks by hand. Now, subtract any positives from this scenario, and you're left with the aggressive, anaesthetizing force of this Hey Mercedes EP.

The ill Nanna has returned and none-too-triumphantly. Braid 2 is even less engaging than its predecessor. If this is a teaser for things to come, and you were never a big Braid devotee, you can go ahead and tune out. Whatever your leanings, don't believe the PR: regardless of what you read, this pretend phoenix rises from the ashes in pretty haggard form, nursing two broken wings and a limp.

Not that this doesn't have its bright spots. It could take you six listens to pin them down, but the guys have their little moments. "Bells" is the first of the EP's four songs and starts off promisingly, sounding, oddly enough, a lot like Braid. Which, if you remember, sounded a lot like four emo-core guys of moderate songwriting ability attempting in vain to sound like a more percussive Jawbox. Nevertheless, "Bells" has a nice circular central riff, some decent but fleeting call-and-response bits, and a rockin' bridge. Somehow, though, this song that clocks in at a mere 4½ minutes wears on you like "Light My Fire" at half speed.

"St. James" follows. At an identical tempo. Identical. If you doubt it, borrow this (or buy it, what do I care?) from somebody and let a few bars of "Bells" play through. Tap your foot to the beat. Now keep it tapping and skip to "St. James." See? The spazzy bass drum that kicks off the song tries its damnedest to hype you up for a rock onslaught, but the pay-off never comes. After a truly insipid riff runs the track, Bob Nanna opens his mouth and derails the whole thing for good. It's true, a competent but unexceptional singer like Nanna can shine, but only when given outstanding melodies to work with. Unfortunately, his skills as a hooksmith haven't bettered much since he last checked in, which is too bad considering his voice has never sounded better. This song, like the song before it, has some very nice guitar work toward the end; but the production doesn't want you to hear it, fearing it might detract from the overall thrill of lethal boredom.

By song three (which sports the unintentionally funny title "The House Shook"), you're almost inured to that same, unrelenting rhythm these guys are so enamored with. If you've managed to stick it out this long, you will have noticed that Project Monotony is a very deliberate and orderly world unto itself. The quiet spaces between songs are kept to a minimum, the tempo remains at a constant, and the melodies could be cut from any one song and pasted into any other with no harm done. Or rather, additional harm. "The House Shook" is far and away the worst of the four. Meanwhile, the final track, "Stay Six," is the final nail, and doesn't actually merit commentary.

Listening to this EP is sort of revelatory. If nothing else, it's an illustration of just how much of a high-wire act songwriting can be. Every turn is fraught with hazards and unseen opportunities to make the wrong decision. A trip-up here and there can be overlooked if the overall result works. But, if you're a little bit off with the pacing, a little off with the mixing, if your lyrics are wanting, and the melodies fail to stick, you're not left with a whole lot. Still, as they did in Braid, Damon Atkinson, Todd Bell, and Robert Nanna have shown fugitive moments of potential. But also like Braid, they utterly fail to make a convincing musical argument for themselves and seem destined to be another also-ran kind of band that people liked to watch live.

-Camilo Arturo Leslie