Motherfucker

The only introduction Motherfucker (Athens, GA) and their album Confetti need is the kind that includes access to your stereo and roughly half an hour of your time. Forget the headphones. Don't bother to roll the windows down. Leave the doors wide open. They formed initially as a scheme to play a local festival with the concept of an unknown and outrageously confident band that would only play once. So, claiming the wildly abrasive name, Erika Rickson (drums), Erica Strout (guitar), and Mandy Branch (bass) quickly assembled a set of what they called “punch-in-the-air” rock. Then, after that initial audience was fully whelmed and subsequent bookings came at a ridiculously frenzied pace, they went whole hog into owning it fully. And good thing for us they did because it's a damn rare thing these days for a band to have a name on the outside of a record that equals the shock and awe of what's inside. Although Confetti certainly has that new record smell to it, it's still a slippery thing. Try to pin it to a hardcore tradition and you'll fail instantly. Neither is it nailed to the surly Chicago school of 1990s rock to which the band has been compared so many times. What's ultimately distilled here is the work of three individuals who have sweated through multiple bands over the last 15 years until they finally got fed up to the point of blast time. Punch-in-the-air Rock