“It’s cucumber mojito,” he says.

But D.C. music venues aren’t sure what to do with people like Hart. The District, like municipalities all over the country, is still figuring out how to handle e-cigarettes, the increasingly popular smoking alternative that health officials don’t know much about yet.

The devices haven’t been formally stricken from bars and nightclubs like cigarettes were in 2007, but District legislators have tried: In 2013, Council members Yvette Alexander and David Grosso co-introduced legislation to treat e-cigarettes like tobacco products. That bill went nowhere.

In the meantime, researchers continue to uncover troubling as well as promising science on e-cigarettes, and nearby Montgomery County is considering banning them from public places. This week, U.S. Surgeon General Dr. Vivek Murthy said health officials are in “desperate need of clarity” on vapes.

As long as e-cigarettes occupy a legal grey area in D.C., people like Hart are free to use them wherever they want — except in places that have taken it upon themselves to ban them, like Madam’s Organ on 18th Street NW.

The Adams Morgan nightspot put the kibosh on vapes a few months ago, says owner Bill Duggan. He says he was creeped out by what he didn’t know about them.

“I had a friend of mine smoking one of those in my bar,” Duggan says. “And I was like, ‘What is in that?’ And he’s like, ‘I don’t know.’ I’m like, ‘Well, if you don’t know, don’t smoke it around me.'”

9:30 Club doesn’t permit e-cigarettes, says a spokesperson. Hart says he’s vaped at Verizon Center, but officially, e-cigarettes are banned there, too, according to Monumental Sports & Entertainment’s Sheila Francis. Francis writes in an email that the devices fall under “our standard no-smoking policy.”

“I had a friend of mine smoking [an e-cigarette] in my bar. And I was like, ‘What is in that?’ And he’s like, ‘I don’t know.’ I’m like, ‘Well, if you don’t know, don’t smoke it around me.’” —Bill Duggan, Madam’s Organ

But if Hart wanted to, he could still bring his e-cigarette into Echostage. The megaclub on Queens Chapel Road NE still allows the devices inside. “I see them a lot,” writes venue owner Antonis Karagounis in an email. “I would say 5 percent of people use them. I don’t smoke, but they don’t bother me, personally.”

At vape-friendly places like Echostage, concertgoers irked by e-cigarettes’ vapor clouds are forced to revert to tactics used by nonsmokers in the days before widespread smoking bans: Move elsewhere, or ask the puffers to stop. In a Tumblr post headlined “Please Stop Vaping at Punk Shows,” writer Bryne Yancey takes the latter approach.

“Vaping at a show is just as bad as stagediving feet first,” Yancey writes. “It reeks of a severe lack of self-awareness and a severe surplus of belligerent entitlement.”

When I ask DIY show promoter Jacob Knibb how he feels about e-cigarette use at shows, he says his promotion group Select DC has no official policy. But he suggests that e-cigarette users face hazards beyond potential health risks.

“E-cigarettes and vaporizers are great if you want to come across as a futuristic bounty hunter,” Knibb writes in a Facebook message. “That’s a hard look to pull off well, and most people end up looking painfully obnoxious.”

Knibb is tapping into another potential outcome of using e-cigarettes: mockery from one’s peers. A growing consensus among non-vapers is that the devices make people look like, well, dorks. E-cigarettes have been called “fedoras for the mouth.” In 2012, Gawker ran a blog post titled, “Electronic Cigarettes Will Never Be Cool.” They seem too health-conscious to be rebellious, writer Hamilton Nolan reasoned. Plus, they have a glowing light at the end. Lame.

Hart says he’s never been asked to stop vaping at a concert. But he has gotten curious questions from people interested in experimenting with e-cigarettes. “It’s always been, ‘Hey, I’m trying to quit, too,'” he says.

Meanwhile, Duggan stands by his decision to eliminate e-cigs from Madam’s Organ. Until they’re declared perfectly safe, he’s happy to keep them away from his non-vaping customers.

“That’s the good news about having your own business. You can make up your own policies,” Duggan says. “It’s good to be king.”

Photo by The Best Electronic Cigarette Review used under a Creative Commons license.

Shortly after 10 p.m., the next act started setting up. But it wasn’t a rock band, or anything as pedestrian as that—it was Olivia Neutron-John, a newcomer to the D.C. area who plays an intense and minimal strain of synthpop on a Casio. The rest of the performers occupied a similar vein: dark techno, much of it industrial-tinged. The headliner that night would be Secret Boyfriend, an experimentalist who toys with the boundaries between electronic and acoustic music, and who released a record that a reviewer for Resident Advisor called possibly “the most abstruse thing Blackest Ever Black has ever released.”

The lineup that night came courtesy of Select DC, a young duo bent on bringing more abstruse electronic music to the District.

Recent D.C. transplants Josh Levi, 27, and 24-year-old Jacob Knibb—who lives in the Petworth house—met on Facebook in January 2013 and bonded over their mutual desire to see more weird or overlooked synthesized music in the city. Levi booked bands back home in St. Louis, Mo., and Knibb had been into punk and noise while growing up in Chesapeake, Va. Two months after they met online, they booked their first show together. That event brought electronic music-makers Ital (D.C. expat Daniel Martin-McCormick) and Container (Providence’s Ren Schofield) to Comet Ping Pong.

Despite the excitement surrounding Ital in 2012, the Comet show flopped, by Knibb’s account. He says attendance was low, and they didn’t make enough money to meet the tour manager’s guarantee. But the curation set the tone for the other shows Select DC would later book: independent, dark, and vaguely punk synthesized music, usually performed in noncommercial venues and people’s houses.

It’s not a money-maker, but that’s not the point.

“Josh and I are mainly interested in creating opportunities for marginalized performers whose work generally resemble noise, techno, house, minimal synth, American primitive, industrial, avant-garde electronic, or some mutant hybridization of styles,” writes Knibb, who has his own musical project, Rosemary Arp. (Levi plays solo as Radiator Greys.) “I say ‘marginalized’ because they don’t represent a typical band/DJ dynamic or their sound doesn’t fit within the current interests of other venues or promoters. I wanted to create an ‘Other’ outlet for the people who didn’t fit in with an established D.C. scene.”

The pair has booked about 20 events so far, their most recent one a noise night at Ghion restaurant near U Street NW. April 12 at Union Arts DC, they embark on their biggest gig yet: a nightlong production called the Vanguard Festival.

“Vanguard Festival came together by chance when a number of artists contacted us about shows on the same date. It gave us an opportunity to put together a huge bill of acts we wanted to see, and whom we want to expose to the greater DMV area,” Levi writes. So far, the lineup includes a mix of noisemakers like Los Angeles’ John Wiese and Philadelphia’s Embarker alongside dance-friendlier artists like Claire and—again—Ital. Numerous acts on the bill, from DJs to live performers, are local.

Of course, noise isn’t underrepresented in D.C., not by a long shot. Just look at the annual Sonic Circuits Festival and the related shows it helps put on throughout the year. The broadest definition of electronic music has a home here, too, though dance clubs like U Street Music Hall and Flash tend to focus on more accessible house and techno—the kind of thing more likely to pack floors and sell liquor. (Though Select DC has worked with Flash before.)

Select DC exists mainly to plug the holes unfilled by commercial venues and larger promoters. “Many of my friends who have hit me up for shows in the D.C. area have either had a rough D.C. show five-plus years ago, or have never played the District before,” Levi writes.

With its DIY ethos, Select DC clearly sprouts from punk-rock soils, but not just when it comes to eschewing commercialism: Knibb and Levi also try to support women musicians working in an otherwise very male genre. Levi points to a December show the pair booked for Providence’s Unicorn Hard-On (Valerie Martino). “Having her play to an audience mostly comprised of women” was critical, he says. “We are huge proponents of promoting female musicians in such a male-dominated arena.”

While Select DC remains a strictly underground operation, Knibb says their small community of followers probably know what to expect from him and Levi at this point. “I think we’ve gotten a reputation for being the weird, noisy dance people in the city.”

A sampling of some of the artists Select DC has brought or will bring to D.C.:

Select DC is on Facebook, Twitter, and Tumblr.