The members of the Wingdale Community Singers make for an incongruous group so it's not surprising that their self-titled debut is an odd and often incongruous album. Avant-rock giant David Grubbs, known for his work in Gastr del Sol, Bastro, Squirrel Bait and the Red Krayola, is the musical anchor of the group. The primary vocalist is Hannah Marcus, whose 2004 solo album Desert Farmers was recorded with members of God Speed You Black Emperor! Rounding out the trio is Rick Moody, who shares vocal duties and wrote the majority of the lyrics. Moody is best known not as a musician but as the best-selling author of the novels The Ice Storm and Purple America.

The thread that binds the three is that they are residents of Brooklyn and Wingdale Community Singers is an attempt to meld the traditional music of the American countryside with the urban milieu of their borough. This attempt to bring folksiness to New York City is ambitious, if not always successful.

The album opens with the haunting "Dog in Winter," a slow duet between Marcus and Moody sung over a Grubbs' sparse, atmospheric guitar playing. The song, which had been about a dog running through the mountains, is marred halfway through as one of the album's many lyrical clunkers comes out of nowhere: "Kid at a porn site/He's gonna have a look." This juxtaposition of idyllic and gritty imagery introduces a central thematic device of the album, but it also introduces one of its major flaws. While David Grubbs' playing is uniformly good (and occasionally much better than that) and Marcus is able to beautifully evoke pain, loneliness and yearning in her singing, Moody's contributions are spotty at best. He sounds uncomfortable as a singer and his lyrics are too often awkward and cutesy.

"Fishnet Stockings," about a transvestite, is an ill-advised attempt at comedy that comes off sounding like a lame Velvet Underground homage. "Holy Virgin Star" begins as beautiful hymn with Marcus' lilting voice accompanied by a simple piano melody, only to be ruined by an inappropriate spoken-word section where Moody tries his best John Cale impression (which is not very good). Another flat moment is "Give It a Kiss" in which Grubbs' gorgeous guitar work is wasted on painfully trite lyrics. "Rat on the Tracks" could be from a Johnny Cash novelty record that the Man in Black (mercifully) never made.

That said, there are some sublime moments that make Wingdale Community Singers worth a listen. The album's high-point is "Bigger Ocean," written by Hannah Marcus. Over Grubbs' restrained guitar-work, her voice is the epitome of fragility and mournfulness. "Dirty Little Dog" is Grubbs' finest moment, featuring a beautiful acoustic guitar melody that is gradually drowned-out by an incendiary electric guitar solo. Moody seems more on his game in "Pawn Shop Fire," and--with the exception of one terrible verse--"Bitter Angel" is a touching song in which New York City is aptly described as a "duct tape city of dreams." The album closing "Indira's Lost and Found" features Moody as the primary vocalist, and this time his awkwardness comes off as sincerity and simplicity. If only it happened more often.