Fetcher: Charm City Dreampunk

When Jason Jones discovered that the man sharing a Sykesville duplex with his bandmate had vanished, he did what anyone else would do—wrote a song about it.

“The guy just ups and disappears. What would cause somebody to do that?” Jones says. 

He and his bandmate, fellow Fetcher frontman Louey Peraza, ventured into the abandoned home to find a veritable “landfill” of trash, mold-lined walls and a fridge filled with rotten food. It’s just one of many dicey excursions the pair has taken into vacant, forgotten spaces in their shared, small-town existence.

The story became the basis of “Cenotaph” (a vacant tomb or structure honoring someone who’s missing or buried elsewhere), one of the first songs recorded by the pair’s Baltimore rock band. Along with bassist Anthony Alletag and drummer Jake Beyer, self-described “dreampunk” band Fetcher melds hooky melodies, grungy vocals, and restless lyrics into infectious rock. 

Though Jones and Peraza formed the band in 2017 (with a different lineup), their friendship dates back to grade school. Both lived in Sykesville then, a Maryland town with a population under 5,000 and not a whole lot going on, they say. “We found a lot of solace in playing music, skateboarding,” says Jones, 28. “We grew up going into the woods and taking hikes.”

The confines of their small town helped breed an affection for abandoned structures and open spaces. One of their frequent haunts was a dormant hospital they’d creep into at night with flashlights. There and elsewhere, they’d stumbled on random objects like play swords and a drum set.

“All of the nature and stuff that we were around all the time, and then exploring these dead and decrepit places; our fascination with that dichotomy [is] always an undercurrent in [our music],” Peraza says.

After years hanging out together—drawing, making videos, listening to Weird Al Yankovic—both musicians picked up guitars and started jamming. As teens, they joined various groups (Peraza was signed to Maryland rock band Bad Seed Rising in high school) but found themselves bandless in 2017.

“We both had song ideas and were playing guitar and singing, writing melodies and stuff. And then it was finally our time to collab and write stuff together,” Jones says. “We’ve been doing the same thing ever since.”

The name “Fetcher” was the invention of Peraza, 27, selected for its “simplicity,” as well as its alignment with advice he’d once received. “The manager from my former band [told us] to imagine your name on the marquee at Madison Square Garden,” he says. If the name looked good, then it was a winner.

The band (whose name is often confused with “Fletcher,” much to their chagrin) has played venues in Philadelphia, New York, DC and the greater Baltimore area, and hit the road last year for a Southern tour. They’ve released an EP and a full-length album, with a second EP on the way.

Despite lyrical themes of angst, listlessness, and yearning, much of their music is sonically upbeat. Good luck trying not to jump up and down (or at least bob your head) to “Lose It,” which Peraza wrote as a pick-me-up when he felt “directionless” with his music career. 

I’m waiting for something / And I can’t feel nothing / I need to feel something / I’ve been waiting for so long. 

“Sleepwalker,” which has a sneak attack of Foo Fighters energy two-thirds of the way through, also shimmers with vitality. “Silver,” off their 2023 album, So Long Small World channels Kurt Cobain. The guitarists point to several more sonic influences including The Beatles, the Dead Kennedys and Beach House. 

Peraza says anything with a great melody and rhythmic drive can slip into their sound. “It’ll go from being serene and kind of heady and psychedelic to very chaotic and aggressive and punk,” he says. “The yin and yang of that is prevalent through a lot of our writing.”

Asked whether they ever quarrel over who gets to sing lead on a given song, both say it’s a non-issue. “At the end of the day, I think both of us are very much servants of the music,” Peraza says. “You just want to see [the creative energy] be channeled in its purest form. And whether that means I sing lead on it or Jason does, it doesn’t matter.”

The band is active in the small-venue, DIY scene in Baltimore, including playing multiple shows at The Garage in Montgomery County (currently in jeopardy after a court ruling that performances are no longer permitted on the land). 

As mainstream venues tend to rely heavily on streaming counts and social media audiences as proof of concept, Peraza says grassroots spaces, such as The Undercroft, are crucial for smaller bands. “They’re not given a chance. And that hindrance keeps a lot of music from happening in Baltimore,” he says.

Home-grown spaces also offer a different experience from traditional stages, Jones says. “The Garage really opened my eyes to what a show can be,” he says, recalling shows where audience members rode skateboards while the band performed. “It’s just a cool community kind of a thing you don’t always get in certain venues.”

As they toil away on their next EP, Jones and Peraza both have big dreams. In addition to their longheld vision to create cartoons together, they’d like to see the band find a wider audience. “I want to just keep making music. I want people to listen to it. I want to make an impact on the music world,” Jones says, adding that it would also be nice to find more fellow introverts who prefer creative pursuits to clubbing. 

For Peraza, a sustaining income and an international tour top his list. “We don’t have to be mega superstars, but I don’t mind playing big theaters or something on the regular. That wouldn’t be bad,” he says with a smile.

He’d also like Fetcher to serve as an example to other local bands that there is indeed a path to perform and build a following even if your social media metrics aren’t mind-blowing.

“You hear so many people talk about how music at this point is like you have to be rich in order to survive, to be able to make it in the industry,” Peraza says. “We live in a world where there’s a diverse enough set of ways to survive as a musician. It’s just figuring out how to tap into them, and where you fit in.”

The nearly decade-old band is still finding their way, he says. But in talking with them (and experiencing their music), you get the feeling they already have.

Fetcher plays at The Depot June 13 and Pea Vine Run June 27.