Their website boldly proclaims their only musical commandment: “They shalt not write a song longer than three minutes”. In Sticky, their debut CD, Brooklyn’s own the Trouble Dolls stay true to their dicta, serving up 11 fun pop songs in just a blink over 28 minutes. But it’s all about quality, not time consumption, right?

The Trouble Dolls began when three friends decided to start a band. None of the three were musicians then: Matty was reviewing records, Cheri was designing graphics for a television news network, and Michael was pitching television scripts to agents.

At first, Cheri played drums and Matty and Michael played acoustic guitar. A fourth friend, Andy, played “pretend bass” on the low strings of his guitar. Songs were written and later performed at New York’s Sidewalk Café. It was a humble start.

Ultimately, Andy moved on, and when Michael sold a TV script, he too departed the scene. Matty Karas and Cheri Leone soon transformed the Trouble Dolls into a proper band. Singer Cheri made the move from behind the kit to out front, with her Casios and a Moog, and Gabe Rhodes was enlisted as a drummer. More songs were written, rehearsed, and eventually recorded, with friend Evan Silverman (from the Rosenbergs) lending support on bass.

As the album was nearing completion, Pam Weis joined the group as its official bass player (she appears on the album doing harmonies only). Since the album was recorded, yet more changes have taken place. Gabe is now playing guitar alongside Matty, and someone named Chris has become the new drummer. Confused? It’s all rather simple—but let’s talk about the music.

Matty and Cheri have written and produced a fine collection of songs. The CD opens with the very infectious and upbeat “7:05”, a song about awakening that manages a subtle reference to Big Star. Gabe’s drums and Evan’s bass lines pave the way for this catchy little ditty, which includes requisite handclaps.

A tribute to the Trouble Dolls’ bubblegum roots, as well as the Japanese fascination with this music, “Japanese Gum” sports a chorus that is as catchy as it is semi-annoying. Another lighter “bubblegum” song is “Your Love Is the Sunshine”, all bubbly optimism except for the contrasting screeching vocals in the surprising counter-chorus.

It’s not all bubblegum here. There’s a darker side to the lightness. Witness the starkness of the song “Invitation”, urging all caution be thrown to the wind with such demands as “Fuck me with no protection / Kiss me with morning breath”.

The title song, “Sticky”, finds the band in post-punk mode, having a great time with an energetic, guitar-driven track that begs to be danced along with. “Marcelle” is about putting an end to an ill-fated relationship with a club-hopping, egocentric celebrity-seeker: “I don’t know what the rules are in this strange little world / Where every little thing revolves around you / Marcelle, the pleasure’s all yours and the pain is mine / Marcelle, I don’t want to waste your time”.

Cheri Leone’s fine vocals are a standout, and they make “I Don’t Know Anything At All” a great success. You get the sense of her confusion, waiting and watching late night news and ultimately giving up trying.

My personal favorite here is the sweet ballad “Something Blue Amazed Me”. Here, Leone’s voice displays more range, sounding a bit like Sam Phillips at times, drawing you in with the song’s visceral poetic imagery (“like corn on fire”, “like dawn on my clothes”).

Another upbeat treat is “I Finally Figured Out” (Karas gets some vocals in here, but again it is Leone who steals the show), another infectious tune with lyrics that don’t really tell us what is figured out, but rather all of the things we know it’s not. I guess the point is to keep us guessing.

“Meeting on the Side” is a bit of a departure, a more complexly structured composition that veers a way from the traditional verse/chorus pop norm. Leone’s vocals make it work, though, as you follow her lead.

The closer, “December”, is a short but sweet bit of pleasantness, couched in sleigh bells and harmonies (with Mark Bacino on backing vocals), and offering optimism for a new year ahead.

Sticky is an auspicious debut from a band that takes itself seriously enough, but never too much so. Karas, Leone, and company are growing as songwriters, and while the playful songs still work well, there’s a growing sense from the quality of the slower, deeper songs here that a more serious future lies ahead, in the best possible sense.