For your ears only

Sssshhhhhh …. Hope and Anchor is playing. (Photo taken at Pete’s Candy Store in Brooklyn’s Williamsburg neighborhood, Dec. 2005 by Jenene Chesborough)

Hope and Anchor is as low-key as the rubbed-down name of one of its three members, who goes by “sarahbrown.”

“I always say ‘quiet’ first,” offers band mate Todd Weakley, asked to describe the local group’s sound. When Weakley and sarahbrown speak about Hope and Anchor, they keep their eyes locked, nodding along with what the other is saying, patiently waiting a turn to speak. Phrases like “I agree wholly with what Todd said” and “I’m sorry, did I interrupt you?” pepper their conversation.

To see sarahbrown and Weakley talk is much like watching a Hope and Anchor show. Except that on stage they have a third member, Tasha (no last name, please) — and a whole crapload of instruments: guitar, drums, bass, trumpet, accordion and some sort of xylophone thing they’re not quite sure the name of. Even with all this going on, though, the songs are soft and sweet, and the three keep their eyes honed together as they play, smiling and nodding encouragement to each other. “When we started playing,” says sarahbrown, “we wanted it to feel like it does when we are playing in our living room.”

They’ve succeeded — to the point that being in their audience sometimes feels like peeping through the blinds. Thank the band’s lack of amplification — even for vocals. Which only adds to the intimacy of lyrics like these, from “Alvy’s Song”: “Once we slept so soundly. / I felt your arms around me. / I made believe that I was worth holding.”

If seeing the band live is like spying through a window, then listening to the songs on their third release, last year’s The Wait and Wonder, is akin to an unauthorized diary reading.

“The songs themselves aren’t giant declarations of information — they’re stories from our lives that are important to us. There is something about the quietness of the band and not using microphones that sort of reverses the listening process,” Weakley suggests. “As opposed to putting the earplugs in and finding a place that sounds good in the room, it’s a way of sort of drawing audience members into the event.”

You’d think Hope and Anchor would be right at home in Asheville’s world-famous singer/songwriter scene. And all three members did, in fact, perform as solo acts before joining forces. This isn’t, however, the only well they’re drawing from. “6th Avenue” offers this remembrance: “Driving home, years are just a flash. / Remembering your room, listening to the Clash. / I was so na/Ove, you were all I knew. / Forties on the floor, it was a perfect Portland June.”

While not unheard of, Clash and malt liquor certainly aren’t the most traditional sources of singer/songwriter inspiration. Explains sarahbrown: “The thing that separates us from the singer/songwriter community is the punk aspect of what we’re doing. Perhaps if you’re listening to [our] record you won’t recognize that … but anyone [who] knows us and knows how we tour and what our politics are [can see that].

“Tasha and I were playing in a band called The Heart Beats Red in Portland,” she continues. “[It was] this really loud rock band, and Tasha had this enormous bass cabinet. She came home one day and said, ‘I traded my bass cabinet in,’ and I said, ‘Oh,’ you know, ‘Did you get something bigger and louder?’ and she said, ‘No, I got an accordion.’ And I think that was a signal that things were about to take a sharp turn. So we just packed everything up and [moved to Asheville] to start this project with Todd.”

These punk roots were enough to land The Wait and Wonder on the D.C.-based Exotic Fever Records, a label that primarily releases material by hardcore bands. “We have received an amazing acceptance in this town,” says sarahbrown. “When we’re touring we’re [also] seeing a lot of acceptance within the punk community.”

Foisting quiet, emotional, even folkie music on audiences more accustomed to Marshall stacks and distortion pedals could be problematic. Not so, insists sarahbrown. “There’s always this moment where we panic a little bit, you know, thinking, ‘Is anyone even going to know that we are starting?’ Then this amazing thing happens where everyone sits down and moves in close.”

There are, however, exceptions. During those occasional, poorly planned bar shows when drunken belligerence proves too much for an un-miked acoustic band, the performance gets even more intimate: The trio just ignores the audience altogether, Weakley says. “It turns into, you know, ‘Sarah, Tasha, I love playing music with you and I’m playing this song … for you guys.'”

[Freelance writer/cartoonist Ethan Clark is based in Asheville.]

Hope and Anchor plays The Grey Eagle (185 Clingman Ave.) on Saturday, Jan. 27, with Danielle Howle. 9 p.m. $7. 232-5800.