Formed somewhat unofficially in 2007, "Timothy" was at first nothing more than a vocable - drab and somewhat vacant in its reference, pointing now by right of nature to any man of the same name; now, with gratefulness, to a certain two Letters; now, with dubious assurance, to a tarrying effluence of sounds, vague and exceedingly ambiguous, percolating through and beyond a quite impenetrable four-wall enclosure. Behind this enclosure labored three gentlemen as vague and obscure as that which projected forth ex eis. They spent much time writing and refining, dallying in uncertain territories with uncertain goals. It was a time not for ripening the fruits of familiarity, however - two of the three were brothers, and all three had grown up playing and writing music together - but for defining for themselves their place within the art of music. Creativity had always been strong on their side, and that enigmatic chemistry so essential to musicianship showered down upon them like Zeus' golden rain on Danae - though a song and a melody, not a warrior, was conceived.
A time came to pass when the three musicians were to extend themselves beyond the confines of their placid practice facility. After having mingled themselves into the various streams of Vancouver music - playing anywhere from halls to pubs and clubs to churches - and completing a self-recording project of a couple songs, Timothy stepped into the studio to record their forthcoming debut EP entitled "Maybe God Will Tell Us...". Recorded and mixed in Vancouver's prestigious Warehouse Studios over months of late-night-to-early-morning fit-ins - the old "we knew a guy who knew a guy who worked as a runner there" - the four-song record showcases their ability to utilize the foundation of popular musical structure and form in such a way as to fashion songs from within that structure without being bound by it. Sonically, the band never insists on one sound, never steps so deeply into the ground that another step cannot be taken. Some songs invite listeners into places humans once described as lands "flowing with milk and honey," where soft sweeping melodies float high above graceful musical landscapes, the self-reflective lyrics opening artist to receiver, bonding both together in that mysterious process for which art has been praised for centuries. Other songs offer a more straightforward, guitar-driven encounter emphasizing the most prized element of the great popular hits: a catchy, soaring vocal melody.
At one time being three, Timothy became four: four gentlemen of the Coquitlam, British Columbia area, a mountainous region of Canada's west coast, favoured dearly by the clouds, dead to the sun, yet by all accounts genuine in its claim to beauty. Being reared in such conditions, the four aforementioned gentlemen are given both to cheerfulness and melancholy, the latter overcome by the former due to their ties to religion, which is the only cure for the more pensive despairers. For those of you in an unconscious despair, allow them to introduce yourself to yourself.
Great is our gladness, lest you depart.
