Our occasional series “Secret History” features profiles of classic D.C. albums as a way of looking back at the District’s contributions to music over time. This installment takes a look back at Frodus’s awesomely spastic F-Letter (Double Deuce, 1996 / Magic Bullet Records, 2003).

Hailing from the District’s Virginia suburbs, spazzcore pioneers Frodus laid claim to one of the more unique sounds of ’90s-era D.C. indie rock. Clearly inspired by the bombast and brains of the Capitol City’s storied hardcore and post-hardcore scenes, Frodus put a thrillingly off-kilter spin on their approach, matching oddly-angled, dryly-distorted riffs to mathematically precise rhythms and colicky vocals. Emo when emo wasn’t a dirty word, Frodus managed to pull off epic without sounding insufferable, injecting a distinctly dystopian, future-shock vibe into their act. This was angry, aggressive music with glasses on, the sonic equivalent of the weird kid in school who aced algebra and had already been to juvie.

“We were our own entity, which sometimes made me feel like an outsider,” drummer Jason Hamacher told DCist during a recent discussion about Frodus’s position in the area music scene. “But the reality was, growing up in Fairfax County, we were D.C. outsiders. Living near the city that spawned Bad Brains, Minor Threat, and Fugazi was amazing. Who wouldn’t want to be a part of that scene?”

“I would say our sound was welcome and unwelcome, as we were always in-between, being too hardcore for indie/post-punk and too weird for hardcore,” added guitarist/vocalist Shelby Cinca.

In an effort to get their music heard, the members of Frodus often took to the streets, handing out their demos — on cassette, no less — at shows and hoping for the best in a pre-MySpace world. “Our first show in D.C. was in 1994, at Club Heaven,” recalled Hamacher. “I was 17. Before the show, we saw Steve Gamboa from the Nation of Ulysses and Marge Marshall from Slant 6 eating outside. I ran up and asked if they wanted to buy our tape or 7″. They said no. I felt like an idiot. Later on, Alec Bourgeois from Severin walked by and I asked him, and he actually bought one. We were so psyched that a guy in a Dischord band bought a tape!”