A man jumped off the shuttlebus and expertly herded its passengers into The Ship. I followed them in. At 9:30, it was busy – impressively so for a live music venue, but maybe only acceptably so for a Friday night at a bar that tourists are ferried to. After greeting a few friends, I took an abandoned table in the far corner of the big open room. A minute later Jona arrived with a deck of cards. Thankfully, I had been warned that the 10pm start time was optimistic. Forewarned is forearmed.

Just after 10:30, Redder Moon took the stage. This post-punk project has seen myriad lineups with each honoring different influences, but today it's the focused dark wave project of sole member Jerimiah James. And it's the better for it. The live version of the act might include any number of players as needs and resources dictate, but for this gig, Laura Boland joined James, providing slow synthesized beds and short poppy leads. Backing tracks provided rhythms and other accoutrements, leaving James to focus on vocals and guitar. The set began with a new song that drew smartly from The Cure's dark palette. Later cuts would add more bounce, moving the dozens of dancers who filled the area in front of the stage. Video was projected behind the band. Although not synchronized, each number had its own unique clip. Sometimes the impact of the video was limited by the thick fog that quickly enveloped the stage and the adjacent portions of the room. Helpfully, bright floor lights shot upward through that haze, painting the duo red or magenta or blue or green, but mostly red. James's baritone vocals weren't choked by the fog, though I suspect that when he stepped to the edge of the stage for a tasteful late-set guitar solo, it was just to get a look at the crowd. After thirty-five minutes, James announced that the band had played its final song of the night. I suspect that was a ruse and that he intended to play more, as he quickly teased another one, asking the crowd "How bad do you want it?" Seconds later he rewarded the cheering response with a particularly anthemic closer.

There were no cards between bands – there just wasn't time, as one duo was replaced by the next in only fifteen minutes. You can't leave the stage empty for too long at The Ship.

90 Minute Cassette is the new project from power couple Chuck Whittington and Hillary Watts. The twosome's forty-minute set triangulated synthpop, new wave, and alternative rock without ever committing to any one style. Whittington provided the vocals – high, delivered softly, and ensconced in reverb. Not exactly ethereal, but reminiscent of his dreamy work in Namelessnumberheadman. His guitar lines recalled the pop/rock of the '80s – clever but never urgent or muscular. Compatriot Watts dropped in keyboard lines from a vintage synthesizer, added backing vocals, and sang lead on a new tune called "Blisters (Hard Work)" that really had the audience going. Pre-recorded tracks completed the compositions, adding simple '80s pop rhythms that steered clear of the quirky elements that most of us associate with new wave. That's a long list of ingredients, but it doesn't make a cake. Thankfully, Whittington is an excellent baker, crafting songs that might have you dancing in your bedroom one day and hugging your stuffed animals the next – all depending on the state of your love life when you listen to his mixtape.

As the band's forty-minute set stretched past midnight, it was apparent that the vibe of the room had changed. The shuttle buses had come and whisked away the tourists; the party people had relocated to find a DJ; and most of the remaining fans had retreated to the cozy booths and tables that line the walls of the former warehouse, leaving only a dedicated handful dancing at the edge of the stage. Whittington's polite banter and reserved stage presence were never going to rally the troops, and while Watts was more theatrical, she was largely hidden behind her musical gear. This was quite a change from her days prowling the stage, dominating her audience and bandmates in The Hillary Watts Riot. The duo's performance was further stymied by a lack of spotlights, leaving it backlit and masked in dim shadows throughout the night. This stage show was a long way from the dramatic fog, pulsing lights, and video projections that punched up the opening act's set. But maybe that's okay. Maybe that's not where the audience wanted to be after midnight, after the tour buses departed, and the locals had sat down to ponder a band that is never quite what you think it is.