Mary Timony laughs when she says it: “My advice for how to write a good song is first let your life get completely messed up.” The delivery feels very on brand for a musician who’s spent decades threading chaos into beauty — from the guitar labyrinths of Helium to the melodic punch of Wild Flag to her new solo album Untame the Tiger, her first in 15 years.
She didn’t plan to make a solo record. “I was just writing during the pandemic,” she says. “They just sounded like songs I used to do when I made solo records. I wasn’t thinking about it that hard.”
But then came the lineup — a dream cast that included Fairport Convention drummer Dave Mattacks. “I couldn’t believe it,” she says. “He’s played on so many of my favorite records. To have him on mine… it was like, what is happening right now? Unreal.”
And even though it’s billed as a solo effort, Timony insists it’s anything but. “Music is about people connecting,” she says. “You call it a solo record, but it’s not. Everybody brought something that made the songs come alive. That’s when music really works — when there’s good energy between people.”
That energy is there in every dusty, sunburned note of Untame the Tiger, which sounds like it was left out too long in the desert sun — cracked, open, and strange. “I wanted it to sound barren,” she says. “Like you’re driving across the desert. The first track, ‘No Thirds,’ I worked hard to keep that empty feeling in the mix.”
That song, she explains, is about starting life over again when everything falls apart. “Things in life are constantly changing because that’s what life is,” she says. “When I wrote it, a lot of things were falling apart. My dad had dementia, my mom had cancer. I was caring for both of them. He died right as I started recording, and she died as we finished. It was a really intense time.”
She pauses. “But also… it was beautiful. I got to be with them. I wouldn’t trade that. It was hard, but it helped me write. The record really helped me through it. It gave me something that was mine, something to focus on.”
She laughs again. “Also, there was no time frame, which was nice. I wasn’t thinking about career stuff. It was just… life. I’d write when I could, around taking care of my parents. The whole thing probably took three years.”
Grief and rebirth are written all over Untame the Tiger — sometimes in plain sight, sometimes wearing a mischievous grin. In “The Guest,” Timony sings directly to loneliness itself. “I imagined loneliness as a person who keeps coming to your door,” she says. “Like, ‘Oh my God, you again?’ You thought it left, but nope — there it is, ringing your doorbell.”
The idea that loneliness might be your most loyal friend feels darkly funny, which Timony admits is part of the point. “I guess I was going through a breakup, too,” she shrugs. “So, yeah, loneliness was back.”
That gallows humor shows up again on “Dominoes,” a breezy, jangly track about knowing you’re dating the wrong person — and doing it anyway. “It’s about falling for the same kind of person over and over,” she says. “You know it’s not going to work, but you do it anyway. The crazy ones are always the most fun, right? Inspiring, even. I’m one of them too, probably.”
The irony is that “Dominoes,” which nearly didn’t make the record, has become one of its standout tracks. “I’d completely forgotten about it,” she says. “We needed one more song, and my co-producer Dennis said, ‘Hey, what about this one?’ I’d basically thrown it away. But those are always the ones that end up working.”
She’s right — the “we needed one more song” myth runs deep in rock history. Timony laughs when reminded of it. “I know! Why is that? Maybe because you’re not being precious about it. You’re not overthinking it. The ones you obsess over too much — those are the ones that get ruined.”
That looseness, the willingness to let imperfection breathe, feels like a hallmark of Untame the Tiger. “I love the songs that didn’t work,” she says. “With my favorite bands, I love the weird ones, the mistakes, the vulnerable stuff. You learn who an artist really is when you hear what doesn’t quite fit.”
After more than three decades in music, Timony’s learned that vulnerability isn’t a flaw — it’s the whole point. “When I was younger, I hid behind things,” she admits. “Now I’m trying to be more honest. You can’t fake it. You have to be as open as you can, or it doesn’t mean anything.”
That openness also extends to her relationship with influences — something she once resisted. “When I was in my twenties, I thought I was inventing everything myself,” she says with a grin. “That’s just what you do when you’re young — you think you’re forging your own path. But now I see we’re all part of this giant web, all connected, all learning from each other.”
She name-checks everyone from the Kinks to Rory Gallagher to Dio. “We’re all helping each other make stories,” she says. “That’s what music is. We’re not stealing — we’re continuing something.”
Still, she’s careful not to fall into the trap of imitation. “If you try to copy something consciously, it’s just derivative,” she says. “But if you let it influence you unconsciously, it becomes your own story.”
That “own story” is one reason Timony landed at No. 99 on Rolling Stone’s recent list of the 250 greatest guitarists — a list notable for finally including more women. “That was wild,” she says. “I didn’t expect it. And yeah, part of me thought, okay, they’re trying to be more politically correct. But that’s fine. Things need to change. I’m just glad they’re valuing inventiveness, not just flash and technique. That’s progress.”
The ranking might make her laugh, but the recognition clearly means something. “I’ve made a lot of records,” she says, almost surprised. “You don’t realize it until you look back and think, wow, I guess I’ve been doing this a long time.”
Next up is a tour, which she’s still mapping out. “Probably half new songs, half older stuff,” she says. “A few Helium songs, a couple old solo ones. Whatever’s fun to play, honestly. I’m just excited to be on the road with great musicians again.”
For someone whose songs often orbit solitude, there’s something poetic about that — Mary Timony, longtime indie icon, finally sounding free again.
“I feel good about this record,” she says. “It came out the way I wanted. I worked hard on it. And it helped me through a lot. That’s what I want it to do for other people too — to be something they can go to, when life gets messy.”
Watch the interview above and then check out the video below.
