Story and photo by DCist Contributor Mehan Jayasuriya

Much like their indie pop forebears — the Smiths, Belle & Sebastian, the entire roster of Sarah Records — Austin act Voxtrot has a thing for self-contained singles. As a matter of fact, they've taken their own sweet time releasing a full length, opting instead for a series of CD-Rs, 7-inch singles and EPs over the course of the last four years. As with the aforementioned bands, this fixation with singles stems from an obsession with pre-British invasion pop and its accompanying fetish object, the 45. Physical singles might be a thing of the past but don't underestimate the marketing potential of a good single in the age of the Internet: Voxtrot, for one, attained near-mythic status in the blogosphere on the strength of their early singles and managed to ride the wave of hype all the way to a high-profile record deal. With the buzz at an all-time high following the band's third consecutive tour of duty at SXSW, it seemed like the stage was set for a breakthrough album. But alas, it just wasn't meant to be: Voxtrot, the band's self-titled debut, fails to live up to the hype.

Now, that's not to say that Voxtrot is a bad album — it's not. It does, however, find the band losing much of the momentum that they've managed to build up over the course of their last few releases. Admittedly, this doesn't come as a complete surprise: Voxtrot came out of nowhere a few years back with two singles that were virtually perfect, B-sides and all. These early releases were full of tightly-wound pop gems, classically catchy melodies and disarming ballads; by comparison, the songs on Voxtrot often seem unfocused and the melodies never feel fully-formed. Normally, these sorts of flaws are to be expected from a band's debut album. Voxtrot, however, had created the expectation that they would produce a classic record as effortlessly as they had produced classic singles. In that sense, Voxtrot's early success as a so-called "blog band" has proven to be both a blessing and a curse.

You might say, then, that opening act Au Revoir Simone have it easy, having made full-length albums from the get-go. Despite forming the same year as Voxtrot, they're already on their second LP, last month's The Bird of Music, a collection of lo-fi synth pop that falls somewhere in between the atmospheric echoes of Beach House and the radio-friendly electro-bubblegum of the Postal Service. Three girls from Brooklyn with long hair and battery-powered Casiotone keyboards might sound a bit precious (and it is) but their songs often take an unexpected turn live, favoring more spacious arrangements that force the listener to dig through a few layers of sound before discovering the melody. While good, they weren't exactly the type of band that you would expect to find opening up for Voxtrot.

As a matter of fact, you might say the same of fellow Brooklynites Favourite Sons. If Au Revoir Simone brought a feminine sensibility to the night's lineup, the Favourite Sons were their testosterone-fueled counterweight. Blending a backbone of folk and country rock with more than a few southern licks, the Favourite Sons trade in the sort of rough-around-the-edges bar rock that seems to be making a comeback — think The National but more raucous, or the Silver Jews albeit less literate. Using two mics — one clean channel and one chorus-heavy channel that sounded like a church hall — vocalist Ken Griffin spit out song after song about girls, whiskey, Jesus or some combination thereof (for example, one song rhymed "Jesus Christ" with "Bring me whiskey/bring me ice"). While the Favourite Sons provided a welcome counterpart to both Voxtrot and Au Revoir Simone, their act wore a bit thin after a few songs and judging by the tepid response, we weren't the only ones who thought so.

Already restless from the previous set, the audience responded enthusiastically the minute that Voxtrot hit the stage. Fittingly enough, the band chose to open with "Introduction" and "Kid Gloves," the first two tracks from their new album. Being fairly dependent on a string arrangement, "Introduction" sounded awfully thin live, though Matt Simon's pounding drums managed to shoulder most of the song's weight. "Kid Gloves" seemed to be headed down the same path when it opened up with three of Voxtrot's members harmonizing out of key but the band quickly managed to turn things around, working in unison to push toward the song's bouncy chorus. "Cheer me up/cheer me up/I'm a miserable fuck," lead vocalist Ramesh Srivastava sang, explaining why his band is constantly compared to The Smiths (as if to drive this point home, he had sung along to "Shoplifters of the World Unite" while setting up his gear onstage earlier). The band finally managed to hit its stride on the title track from the Mothers, Sisters, Daughters & Wives EP, with the song's hammering rhythms and jangly guitars propelling the crowd headlong into the wide-open chorus.

Voxtrot would have been wise to capitalize on this momentum but instead, chose to shift gears, with Srivastava taking a turn at the keyboard for the piano-driven numbers "Ghost" and "Steven" (it's worth noting that these songs are tracks 3 and 4 on Voxtrot, respectively, suggesting that the band could use a few pointers when it comes to sequencing a setlist). On both songs, Srivastava raised his hands into the air awkwardly for effect — a few times it even looked like he was trying to do the "Walk Like an Egyptian" dance. Again, however, the band paid due penance by playing an older song, the bouncy "Soft & Warm," which featured a great interplay between the piano line and guitarist Mitchell Calvert's spirited upstrumming.

It's telling that the night's two highlights — "Raised by Wolves" and "The Start of Something" — were also the band's first two A-sides. The former was confidently realized in all it's catchy, foot-tapping glory while the latter had the crowd literally jumping with excitement. "If I die clutching your photograph/don't call me boring/it's just 'cause I like you" Srivastava crooned, once again channeling the Moz. For the encore, Srivastava returned to the stage alone, accompanied by only an acoustic guitar. After struggling to turn off the distortion on his amp, he turned in an clumsy rendition of "Future Pt. 1." His voice laid bare against the spare backdrop, Srivastava struggled to hit the high notes and let out a few inexplicable growls at the end of phrases, undermining what could have been an austere, poignant reading.

Voxtrot has a lot of things going for them: they've got tons of energy on stage, a charismatic frontman, a few EPs worth of great songs and a whole lot of potential. They've even got enough deliberately staged, black and white photos on their album covers to please all but the most discerning Belle & Sebastian fans. When Voxtrot is firing on all cylinders, they're truly a force to be reckoned with. It's a shame, though, that they can never quite seem to keep that momentum going. Much like their new songs, Voxtrot's live show probably just needs a bit more time in the oven. After all, it's only their first record.