In city squares and hazily lit coffee shops across the world, legions of Tracy Chapman wannabes hunch over $60 acoustic guitars. They strum their anguish; they flout accepted norms by exposing their shrubbery armpits; they blart out their sanctimonious lyrics to overly liberal "free" thinkers, and; while they may be selflessly fundraising for the local poultry orphanage, they all dream of being spotted.

Beth Hirsch was spotted in a Paris café by two gentlemen who happened to comprise the dreamy retro-chic band, Air. Nicolas Godin and Jean-Benoît Dunckel heard a wonderful voice that evening. The beauty present in Hirsch's voice belies deeper partials: by turns, she can be eerily evanescent, or injured but resolute. Hirsch amply displayed these nuances in her gorgeous Moon Safari performances. Early Days, however, turns out to be a poor showcase.

What Hirsch brought to Moon Safari was a humanizing of technology. Though "Sexy Boy" managed a huge amount of rotation (after all, the vocoder wasn't half as prevalent back in 1998 as it is today), the success of Air's debut album was due to the juxtaposition of retro-futuristic technology and Hirsch's affectingly humane voice. Though Moon Safari, in many ways, is elegantly kitsch, it is ironically so. Air revel in the gap between the comic exotica of Les Baxter and the Beauborg concrete of Pierre Henry. They also appreciate great pop, but that's neither here nor there right now.

Away from such postmodern schemes, Hirsch has to situate her voice in settings that will provoke favorable comparison with her winning contributions to Moon Safari. Early Days signally fails in this all-or-nothing regard.

This album, barely over half an hour in length, bears the hallmarks of a barrel- scraping reissue program. Across these thirty minutes, Hirsch describes windy autumns spent by rivers with a man and Gabrielle ("Gabrielle"), and on "No Refrain," compares flesh on the floor to bowling (no, really-- a definite Tori Amos moment!). Such dour posturings are, naturally, accompanied by a delicate acoustic guitar, refined cello lines, and a prissy piano.

So what is her label's motivation for releasing Early Days? I can't really believe that the world has been holding its breath for a Hirsch solo recording. Why the desperation? I could understand this release if Hirsch's songs revealed a lavender eroticism like Sarah McLachlan's. But judging solely by Early Days (isn't the title a thinly disguised apology-- why not just label this disc Juvenalia?), Hirsch couldn't make it onto a Lilith Fair compilation, even with her Air collaborations setting her apart from every other coffee house balladeer.

It's not as though guesting on an electronic album hasn't worked in the past. Beth Orton started out with William Orbit's Strange Cargo outfit, and rather than going back to her acoustic beginnings, Orton successfully courted both the folkies and the technoheads. Hell, even Everything but the Girl turned off the po-face just in time to ride the deep house bandwagon.

Marketing this disappointing disc will be difficult-- the obvious audience will be devotees of Moog mood chic, and they'll never stand for this. But those Tracy Chapman wannabes in Harvard Square might find some sweet consolation. After having lent their lungs to some modish electronic outfit, they, too, will be able to dine off their self-righteous mediocrity.

-Paul Cooper