To celebrate a decade of existence, Matador Records released a three-disc compilation chronicling the history of the label and its many acts. Among them was Helium, at one point all but destined to take the alt-rock world by storm with their crunchy blend of fuzzed-out guitars and the vaguely Liz Phair-ish attitude and credentials of lead singer Mary Timony. Even when the band took a turn for the medieval on 1997’s The Magic City, Helium remained the critics’ darling. And then they went on hiatus, one that has become permanent in all but name.

But the story wasn’t over yet, Matador seemed to be saying! Mary Timony would put out her own solo material, and to prove it, we’re going to put her first song on our marquee compilation and have her play our anniversary shows in New York! All fine, except that the Mary Timony song was a low-key rehash of Helium’s “Aging Astronauts.” And then there was the show itself. Timony had performed solo before, but this was, in a very real sense, her real introduction. “Pirate,” then, was the first Mary Timony song most people heard. And it was pretty good—but not great, and not what we’d come to expect from Helium.

Timony could’ve been forgiven for trawling ever darker and gothic soundscapes for her new material; if anything, it was one logical extension of the stylistic turn Helium had started with No Guitars. But Timony’s new material seemed to lack the spark that made Helium’s early material so compelling. Furthermore, her live reputation was never that great—she’s no Chan Marshall, but Timony had some stage fright issues of her own. The Matador shows saw her play mostly to her drummer as opposed to the ground, and she spent most of the time staring at her feet. If she hadn’t already played a number of successful tours with Helium you’d think she was a shrinking violet completely unsuited to the rigours of a live performance. In that light, Timony’s NYC performance was acceptable—but just barely so.

When “Pirates” failed to appear on Mountains and The Golden Dove, it seemed obvious that we’d never hear a studio version of what was probably either a Helium leftover or a extremely early solo song. So imagine my surprise yesterday when I popped in Ex Hex for the first time and heard “Pirate”—in actual fact called “Return To Pirates.”

By the time of The Golden Dove, Timony’s angle had worn out its welcome. A lot of people were instantly turned off by what they believed was an unfortunate Dungeons and Dragons influence, or a renaissance faire atmosphere, and the fans left behind found little that truly satisfied. Some of us missed th innocence of the early days, when Timony was just a woman that liked to sing saucily about vampires and superballs. And while Ex Hex doesn’t see Timony return to the glory days of Helium, it’s definitely a step in the right direction. The “renaissance faire atmosphere” has been largely dropped, and Timony’s guitar playing is far more direct and visceral this time around. It’s as if a fog has been lifted.

The huge step forward Ex Hex represents is easily seen in these two songs alone; the 2005 version sounds far more brash and confident than the 1999 version. The guitars are louder and Timony sings with more verve. You can even imagine her facing a crowd while playing this while playing a show—perhaps the biggest sign yet that the Mary Timony of old has returned.

You can sometimes tell what the next big thing out of Britain is going to be by watching television commercials. Case in point: Kasabian, who’ve managed to Moby their way into a Pontiac commercial, the trailer for the upcoming Firefly movie, Channel Five’s automotive show Fifth Gear, the PAL edition of Gran Turismo 4, etc., etc., etc. (It’s interesting to note that three of those four placements have something to do with fast cars—Kasabian: composers for car chases of the new millennium!) With two top-ten singles and a number of Brit Awards nominations, it’s safe to say that Kasabian have hit it big with their Primal Scream meets Stone Roses meets (fill-in-the-blank early-90s Britrock band) formula.

Except for two things: first, in the hyperdramatic British market, there is no such thing as “the next big thing,” because everything is big for at least a couple of seconds, and it’s so hard to keep track for us North Americans that we may as well not bother. Sorry, Atomic Kitten was so two years ago? How the hell were we supposed to know? And that leads us to the second problem: what makes it big in Britain rarely makes it big here, and never for very long. Britain’s adopted pop goddess, Kylie Minogue, made barely a ripple with Fever before promptly disappearing off the American radar again. And just try to think of another British band or artist that’s had anything resembling decent exposure in the past half decade. So what does this mean for Kasabian, who have committed to U.S. tours and placements in American car commercials?