Drug Rug, Paint The Fence Invisible
Boyfriend and girlfriend write wonderful, wobbly indie pop
Catch but a fleeting glimpse of Drug Rug and risk dismissing the band as one of a million guitar-driven indie-rock groups with wobbly harmonies and an inane moniker. (For the record, Drug Rug means "poncho" in hippie.) Those who stick around for a few songs, however, are in for a real treat. The Boston combo, anchored by the boyfriend/girlfriend Sarah Cronin and Tommy Allen, write the type of direct melodies that elude most of their peers, then present their songs with the approximate giddiness of a kindergarten choir.
Like their self-titled debut, the young band's second album, Paint the Fence Invisible, sounds hazy and hopeful. Before they acquired an electric backing band, the two singers performed acoustic duets inspired by the Carter Family, and much of their current work resembles '60s acid-folk artists who suddenly found themselves plugged-in and turned-on. The hippie prerequisite driving this album is not drugs, but something slightly more dangerous: love. The pair's voices, alternatively innocent (Allen) and witchy (Cronin), wrap around one another in a state of mutual fascination, lending the record's every song a sense of intimacy and eavesdrop.