Decorated with a rococo image ripped from a Timothy Leary book, Hung Jury's 2006 self-titled debut album–silver plastic disc aside–could easily be a lost artifact from the '60s.

The impression carries over into the music, which swings from Texas psychedelia in opening track "The Circle" to the electric-banana acid blues of "Treacherous Machete" and the brain-warping echo that bathes singer Malcolm Jack's vocals amid controlled feedback in "Don't Be Silly".

Jack's lyrics tend to deepen the effect. There's the anti-consumerist screed of "Flatscreen Dreams", classic head-shop philosophizing in "Me and My Mind", and the triple negative of the album's closing track, "Doesn't Anything Not Mean Nothing". Ponder that title for a few minutes and you'll end up feeling stoned.

Hung Jury's East Hastings jam space is located in the sprawling concrete basement of an ominous and decrepit brick building–it's a structure that, amazingly, the four-piece shares with two other bands, an art gallery, JC/DC studios, and the odd squatter. Kicking back, guitarist-vocalist Jack reveals that the '60s echoes in Hung Jury's music are anything but accidental. Or maybe that should be "nothing if not not accidental".

"I called up [guitarist] Dave [Greene] and said, 'Let's jam. I've been learning old Bob Dylan songs, and Them songs, early '60s stuff.' That was our beginning," he explains. "And Nuggets-style stuff," he continues, referring to Patti Smith guitarist Lenny Kaye's influential compilation of forgotten garage-punk songs.

Greene and Jack were still in their early 20s when they hooked up with bassist Eric Lefebvre and drummer Owen Lewis to form Hung Jury in 2005. Jack's interest in the kind of music that's largely consigned to TV commercials for the boomer demographic–he also goes on excitedly about the Kinks' 1969 masterpiece, Arthur–is something he puts down to his musician dad.

"He was playing around Vancouver in the early '70s," he notes. "He's still a music nut, but 20 years ago, he was the same way I am now. I think everybody my age had a taste of their parents' music when they grew up, like the Beatles, Zeppelin, the Stones, but he was absolutely obsessed. 'No, no, Malcolm, listen to this song…' He'd be playing songs to me 20 times in a row, trying to get me to hear certain guitar parts. I learned everything I know from him."

The old man is "super-supportive" of Hung Jury, but it was a chance encounter with one of Vancouver's current underground heroes that emboldened the quartet to leave the garage.

"Josh [Stevenson] from the Christa Min came into my skateboard shop one day," recounts Jack, "and I was listening to the 13th Floor Elevators, and he said, 'Hey, I'm in a band that's really influenced by the 13th Floor Elevators, you should come and check us out.' I said, 'Dude, me too!' I'd never heard of Christa Min, so I checked it out, and it was sick."

The Min gave Hung Jury its first big show at the Marine Club –an event that fulfilled Jack's sole, endearingly modest ambition with his outfit. "I just wanted to be listed in the newspaper as one of the bands playing in the clubs," he smiles. "I didn't know what else there was."

Local promoters Frank Rumbletone and Steve Chase meanwhile took up the cause, leading to exposure on Rumbletone's CiTR show ("Those were rough demos," Jack says, incredulously. "Shitty, surf garage songs–which he loves"), and eventually an opening slot with heavyweight Cincinnati rockers Thee Shams in late 2005.

The debut album and a small but besotted amount of local press followed, but the rhythm section bailed: drums are currently handled by Adam Potter, and an enigmatic jam-space resident by the name of Patrick Nemmeth was recruited on bass. Says Jack: "The dude's mysterious, for sure. He's good looking and stylish, but you wonder how the fuck he's like that when he lives in this ghetto place, and doesn't even appear to have a bed, or clothes for that matter. But he has a good ear."

Perhaps the most exciting development is the small but insurgent scene that has coalesced around Hung Jury, which might inherit some of the attention brought to Vancouver by a certain group of world-conquering Strathcona Manson family look-alikes.

"There's a bunch of bands. Treacherous Machete, the Clips, the Smokes, No Horses, and Sun Arise–those are just some of them," Jack says. "Hopefully we'll start making an impact outside. And people are having some success. Like, the Pack is doing great."

But he's also diffident about Hung Jury's place in the talent pool, describing his band as "bums" and himself as a retarded 24-year-old alcoholic. It's hilarious, but a little coaxing reveals the truth. "I'd be totally lying if I said I didn't want to succeed," Jack says with a smirk. "When I was 10 I wanted to be a rock star, and I'm 24 and I wanna be a rock star, you know? I mean, I'm not banking on it, but yeah. I'm still a kid."

Hung Jury plays the Media Club on Saturday (September 22).