As high heels and boat shoes flirted on the floor by the bar, the barefoot feet of Archeology took their positions on The Loft, Tommy Doyle’s live music stage. The canned music faded out, but the din of the bar crowd barely receded when the band bravely launched into a four-part a cappella version of Neil Young’s "Harvest." Back by the bar, drinks clinked, numbers exchanged, and deals were made; their agents, a mixture of Harvard Square professionals and tourists, were largely oblivious to the itinerant men on stage. Nevertheless, the quartet persevered and their clear unwavering voices seemed almost like patient missionaries, seeking out even just one among the many who could be saved.
Daniel Walker and Jason Davis, the founding members of Archeology, actually grew up as the sons of preachers, and although both escaped the suffocating restrictiveness of their fathers’ religions, they haven’t abandoned everything learned from those countless Sundays of their youth. Pairing the drama of a preacher’s voice during verses and earnest harmonies of a church choir on their choruses, they deliver anthems that celebrate the joys and traumas of life with acoustic guitars, drums, and bass, substituting for the church organ.
Following the last notes of "Harvest," drummer Benjamin Haysom embarked the band into "By and By" with only the thump of the kick drum and shake of a tambourine. In performance, many of their songs felt pared down compared to the recorded versions, but if anything the rearrangements brought out the rich vocal harmonies. On "San Salvador" singer Heather Myllenbeck, who usually performs as Honey and the Moon, joined the band on stage, and stayed for the remainder of the set, adding a fifth voice.
To close their set, the band performed a rousing version of "White Walls." Over rapidly picked bass notes, Walker and the rest of the band sang the bridge, repeating its lines over and over. With each "brick by brick" the intensity grew, drawing the small crowd in front of the stage in closer. The sounds of the bar crowd had disappeared and the band’s insistent sound now filled the room, from the hardwood floors to the rafters.
After the show, the members of Archeology retreated to a narrow alleyway outside for a breath of fresh air before they had to jump back in the van for a late night drive to Brooklyn. In the midst of a fifty day cross-country tour that’s brought them to all kinds of venues, they’d already weathered the requisite van problems, show complications, and now, a missing laptop containing all of their tour information, load-in times, and contact information.
Despite this latest challenge, they seemed surprisingly calm, showing the same resilient optimism that powers their songs. The Portland, Oregon-based band had made it this far; somehow it all would work out. On a previous tour, they found themselves halfway into Idaho without any money left. Rather than despairing, they pulled out their guitars and busked on the street of the small town they were stuck in. A couple hours and a few generous strangers later, they had enough coins in their guitar cases to make it to their next show. As Walker sings on "White Walls," "We count these four white walls / we count them as our own / and if they crumble and fall / we’ll still hold our own."