Lauren Hoffman: Quality Beats Quantity

"This is the last song, and we're going to try to get it down before Helmet starts downstairs," said singer/guitarist Lauren Hoffman, breaking into a rare smile before diving into the achingly pretty "Fall Away," the last of a dozen songs she played for a sparse but attentive audience a week ago Thursday at T.T. the Bear's Place. Unlike the über-metal Helmet (who were moments away from performing at the adjacent Middle East), Hoffman didn't need a barrage of jackhammer rhythms to make herself heard. The 20-year-old Virginian relied upon quality of material rather than quantity of noise.

Drawing on songs from her Virgin debut, Megiddo (produced by Cracker frontman David Lowery), she hovered in style and content somewhere between the edgy tenacity of indie-darling Liz Phair and the haunted torch blues of P.J. Harvey. Her backing band of stand-up bassist Scott Fitzsimmons and Cracker drummer Johnny Hott complemented the moody minimalism of her songs, adding subtle polish and color to dark looking-glass reflections. But what made Hoffman so compelling was a dexterous balance of humor and stoicism, as well as a sense of restraint that heightened the air of mystery and portent. Spare, expressive guitar playing mirrored those qualities; she embellished lyrics with telling clusters of notes, used slashing riffs as exclamation points at the ends of cutting lines.

Looking nervous and shy, Hoffman moved from jaunty, countryish numbers ("Sugar Pie") to the hazy drone of "The Ashram Song" to the Stonesy thwack of "Alive," growing more relaxed as the set's momentum built. Her clear, yearning voice offered a dose of indie-girl sass here, bluesy swagger there, and touches of tenderness in between. The highlight came twice -- on the same song. Midway through her set, Hoffman transformed her should-be hit "Rock Star" into a vamping shuffle (augmented nicely by Fitzsimmons's slinking bass line and Hott's washboard brush strokes). She returned to "Rock Star" two numbers later to deliver the straight-up album version with a hip-shaking glee that belied its stinging take on fame. Nevertheless, when she sang "I want to be a rock star too!" and underscored the sentiment by launching into a woolly guitar solo, one couldn't help thinking that she just might get there -- even without the pummeling noise.

-- Jonathan Perry