By Patrick Caldwell

Don't trust the Carrots' MySpace page, which describes the band as "Austin's new evangelical sensation who met two years ago at church camp and realized they all had a devout love for God in common." It lies.

"Basically I have a lot of computer time at work, so one of my jobs is to completely revamp the MySpace page every month or so," said Chris Lyons, bassist for the local sextet. "I just write completely fake information. It's pretty funny, but I'm afraid it'll backfire in some horrible way."

Good-natured ribbing aside, attending one of the Carrots' eminently enjoyable live shows can nonetheless qualify as a religious experience. Simultaneously one of Austin's most distinctive and most easy-to-categorize bands, the Carrots — two guys and four gals strong — very purposefully evoke the spirit of classic '60s Motown girl groups like The Ronettes and the Supremes. Clad in snazzy matching outfits and belting out perfect harmonies in pleasant 2-and-a-half minute chunks, they make the kind of expertly-crafted pop tunes that might fool audience members into thinking they've fallen through a time warp.

"Most of the songs are about 2 minutes," said vocalist and keyboard player Jennifer Moore. "So you can't repeat things, and the songs are more powerful. It's kind of like orange juice concentrate."

The Carrots began in 2005 when lead singer Veronica Ortuno put out a MySpace bulletin with a very specific goal in mind: putting together a '60s girl group. A variety of friends and associates responded, word spread, and before long the Carrots were born.

"I honestly think for her it was sort of a whim. But I had really been wanting to see that idea for a while, so when I saw that MySpace bulletin, I jumped on it," recounted Lyons. "It was like, 'Wow, somebody had the same idea I had!'"

A local scene dominated by dance and indie rock greeted the Carrots warmly. After all, something different — especially when done well — always deserves attention. The band credits its pop-enthused approach to songwriting and performing — described by Jason "Chef" Pittman as "super-sugary, mile-high sweet harmonies or something like that" — for helping them stand out and make a statement in a crowded Austin scene.

"There's so many indie rock bands that are ruling Austin," said background vocalist Erin Budd. "And that's just kind of boring and redundant sometimes. I think it's refreshing for people to hear something different."

Of course, a few cute girls don't hurt, either.

"Speaking as a guy, it's more interesting when girls are playing — it's just so typical for a boy to play music.

Boys are encouraged. Any boy can get a guitar and get encouragement, but no one encourages a girl to do it, so when she does, it's a more powerful thing," Lyons said. "Plus, boys are really into it, because we have cute girls, but also girls appreciate girls onstage too, because it's inspring. You get the best of both worlds.

"But maybe most importantly, at the time we started, it was kind of like a 'Fuck you!' to the scene," added Lyons. "With all this post-punk singing pretty is revolutionary. When we play there's always people coming up to us and saying 'We haven't seen these kind of songs before.'"

After two years of regular local gigging, the band released its first EP online this spring. Recorded in bits and pieces in a variety of local studios and living rooms and available for free download from the aforementioned MySpace page, the Carrots hope to use it as a springboard to pursue a full-length LP later in 2007, as well as an East Coast tour in the summer.

The band — with an emphasis on songwriting that guitarist and vocalist Stephanie Chan calls "perfectionist" — requires a level of attention above and beyond the needs of an ordinary local band. With songs to write and time-consuming costumes to design and sew, the Carrots pour hours into the group, a tall order for a band whose members also play in a variety of local groups, including Yellow Fever, Finally Punk and Voxtrot. But their devotion to the band is in clear evidence in the Carrots' lively onstage shows, and with an act that's an extension of themselves and not mere persona, that's unlikely to change.

"I like showmanship, but I don't like phoniness," Moore said. "If you look at early rock and roll, everyone looks weird and really unique, but that's just because they're into it. I'd rather see that then trying to play a role, so that's what we do. It's still you, but it's you times 10."