The Black Cat never disappoints the District's music fans, even on a Tuesday night. So when newly acquired Dischord band The Aquarium was billed to play Backstage last night, one could count on getting more out of the $6 experience than just a warm place to while away the frozen evening.
Low-key openers The Hold Up, a mostly mum trio capable of rolling bass lines, jazzy backbeats, blues-rock riffs and flourishes of funk, began playing with little acknowledgement of the small audience. On occasional songs, the vocalist contributed brief stanzas of Elvis Costello-infused sentiment. Though the set was largely bereft of lyrics, the vocalist's emotions were aptly conveyed through his Gibson guitar; eight different distortion pedals helped the band achieve variety in ambience construction, weaving tropicalia, country-western and Brazilian bossa nova melodies. The drums, cowbell and shakers were also notable contributors to the band's set, but no instrument was as integral to The Hold Up's uniqueness as the electric ukulele. Played on its side with a slide, the slurred, elongated notes wailed their way into the set and mingled with the tinny guitar to create an eerily beautiful atmosphere within the few arrangements it was used. However, for all of The Hold Up's impressive musicianship, the band wasn't much of a show to watch.
The Aquarium proved different. By the time keyboardist Jason Hutto and drummer Laura Harris had equipped the stage for their minimalist set, spectators had trickled from the Red Room bar into the tiny room until the crowd was packed as sardines. Though quite a sight on their own (Hutto is a geek-chic beanpole manning a Wurlitzer like Eddie Van Halen's guitar and Harris is a petite tour de force on drums that makes Keith Moon look like a pansy), they banged away on their instruments while a silent, sepia filmstrip about indigenous life in the Andes rolled away behind them.
The D.C. duo released its eponymous debut on Dischord Records in late 2006 but have been gathering a local following since its formation in 2001. Hutto and Harris seem to have developed a familiar, congenial repertoire with their audience, which was brimming with fans itching to join Hutto's cacophonous choruses and bang their heads along with Harris' thrashing drums.
The Aquarium is chaotic, yet calculated, evident in its kitschy stage presence. Straddling sweet carnival pop and gnashing grunge, the duo's arrangements are simultaneously epic and minimal. Hutto's take on the Wurlitzer is delightfully different, at times light and floating and at other times deep and brooding, and it plays perfectly alongside Harris' driving drums to create an element of manic euphoria that is the vein of their music. Though all of The Aquarium's compositions would be worth multiple listens, "Good People," "Maxxo Sesh" and the heartfelt "Can't Afford to Live Here" are standouts.
While The Aquarium's record doesn't sound nearly as commanding as its live set (but what band's does?), it's a great investment to help students bite cheerfully back at winter's cold snaps and to tide fans over until the duo's next show.
