(the) Umbrella Cult says goodbye

As the members of (the) Umbrella Cult file into their practice space for their final rehearsal, things appear to be business as usual. There's not much talk of the impending farewell show, or even the fact that it will be their last foreseeable gig together. In fact, without knowing any better, one would assume this was just another practice.

The band recently relocated practice spaces from a North Trail warehouse unit to the back room of a more corporate downtown space, complete with carpet, air conditioning and perhaps the biggest bonus — two working bathrooms. True to character, the band members ignore the elephant in the room and jump right into cracking jokes.

"I'm sure you're all wondering why I gathered you here for practice," announces Brockford Lee, the band's frontman and founder, surveying the fluorescent-lit change of scenery. "We need to talk about this month's numbers. I want to streamline a lot of our major functions, and I want everyone to bring a dish to the company picnic."

After a few more jokes, they dive into their final practice, dusting off songs they haven't played in years as well as tried-and-true classics as they decide which tunes will make the final set list for their farewell show at 9 p.m. this Saturday, April 5, at Cock and Bull with Roadkill Ghost Choir and Moonshutters ($5 cover).

The brainchild of Lee, (the) Umbrella Cult formed in 2010, but the band didn't start gigging regularly until late 2011. Wanting to bring an interesting concept to the music scene, they played the cult card to create a sense of mystique, and they borrowed the name of their then-hangout beneath a giant patio umbrella.

"It's also become kind of symbolic," says Lee. "I always try to bring new and different people into our group of friends. If there are any stragglers, they can fall under our umbrella. They're welcome here."

The group continued to evolve, change members and earn its place in the ranks of the local scene with its unique brand of guitar-driven psychedelic garage pop fueled by Lee's songwriting  but he says he thinks the band has hit a musical ceiling.

Next week, he and vocalist Promise Hope will move to Nashville to pursue music full time. Lee is no stranger to the city —he got his start as a musician there, recording and haphazardly releasing songs on Myspace without realizing he'd built up something of a following. After a few years of playing there, he moved back to Sarasota, where he's been a prolific songwriter and collaborator, but he says he's ready to go back.

"I love it there," he says. "All I ever want to do anyway is talk about music, or the creation or recording of music, and I'm excited to be surrounded by people who are living and breathing it every day. When I'm in that environment, it's constant inspiration, and the music just pours out of me."

As the final gig approaches, the members approach it the same way they've approached everything else — casually. Good or bad, they've always taken things in stride, and until recently, they thought they'd already played their last show and didn't know it. So Lee says he sees it as as more of a reprise.

"I think we haven't really focused too much on the move, because the band might still exist in some form, someday," he says. "I know I'm going to work with these guys again."