The Orwells. Courtesy of the artist.

The world doesn’t need another garage rock band, but if I had to make an exception, I’d make it for The Orwells. The fresh-faced quintet from suburban Chicago had barely graduated high school when they released their debut album, Remember When, last summer on the influential music blog Aquarium Drunkard‘s imprint Autumn Tone Records.

Sunday night’s show at DC9 was an all-too-brief set of restless rock that recalls Raw Power and the power-pop of the late Exploding Hearts. Clocking in at around 45 minutes, The Orwells whipped the small, but enthusiastic crowd into a frenzy splitting the set list evenly between new material and cuts from their buzzing full length.

Mario Cuomo, the lanky frontman, spent most of the night stalking across the stage while the band pummeled their way through their blistering single “Mallrats (La La La)”—a bratty slice of pop punk—”In My Bed” and “Painted Faces and Long Hair” among others. When he wasn’t hiding behind his blonde mop of hair, he was writhing around the stage in a manner reminiscent of both Iggy Pop (minus the indecent exposure) and Paul Westerberg on Saturday Night Live (minus the alcohol).

Mike Cooley once warned that “rock and roll means well, but it keeps tellin’ young boys lies“. For a band to arrive so fully-formed, it’ll be interesting to see what happens next. Now, that they have a proper release under their belt, they’ll be spending the foreseeable future on the road.If The Orwells are foolish enough to believe in the power of rock and roll, I might be foolish enough to believe in The Orwells.