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Anyone who's ever read JRR Tolkien's Lord of the Rings knows that this band's name, The Mirror Reveals, is a reference to the Elf Queen, Galadriel. And for those of you that have not read this novel, now you're up to speed.

With that allusion to a fantasy novel, collaborators James Babbo and Kit Messick hint at the basis for their sound. It's a style drenched in the world of the imagination, a sparse and minimal effort that works more on exciting the listener's imagination than presenting a stand-alone composition. Comparisons to Chainsuck abound, but The Mirror Reveals is even more mellow.

Babbo, a former singer and songwriter for various bands, creates his own identity here. Armed with a guitar, a piano, and occasionally a violin, he masterfully mixes the instruments into soft backdrops against which Messick goes to work. Her ethereal vocals are not soaring and bombastic, but rather soft and breathy, expanding slowly instead of erupting into being.

"Confined" makes full use of Messick's vocal capabilities. Her restrained style perfectly complements Babbo's coaxing acoustic work. As he tempts strumming rhythms out of his guitar, she sings a mournful ode to opportunities wasted and dreams lost.

So soft is Frames of Teknicolor that few of the tracks even have drums. Where they are present, as on "Moebius Stripped," they are diffuse and accessible. The emphasis lies on Babbo's strumming acoustics, cautious and delicate, while Messick examines the powerlessness of human beings in the face of time.

Frames of Teknicolor takes a mournful approach to its music. And The Mirror Reveals actually pulls it off well with a combination of powerful, well-written lyrics, mesmerizing vocals, and absorbing soundscapes. It's the right album to play on days when everything seems gray and overcast. Just sit back and allow it to work its magic. "Depression with class," I call it.

Middle Pillar sells this album for $12.