SUNDAY OCT 20, 2019
Captured! By Robots
Captured! by Robots is a touring grindcore band with only one human member. The music is all played physically by the 2 robots, GTRBOT666 and DRMBOT0110, and the human slave Jbot.
The group is composed of JBOT, the human slave to the robots, DRMBOT 0110, a mechanical metal drummer; and GTRBOT666, who plays bass and guitar.
Former members of C!BR include AUTOMATOM, the assistant drummer created by robots, The Ape Which Hath No Name who played tambourine halo; The Son of the Ape Which Hath No Name, who plays Monkey Cymbals; and the Headless Hornsmen, a full three-piece horn section.[1][failed verification]
The C!BR backstory states that the human, in an attempt to make his own band, created the robots. Instead of following him, they revolted, and now force him to travel the world with them, performing music and making him contemplate the inferiority of the human race.
Captured! by Robots is a touring grindcore band with only one human member. The music is all played physically by the 2 robots, GTRBOT666 and DRMBOT0110, and the human slave Jbot.
The group is composed of JBOT, the human slave to the robots, DRMBOT 0110, a mechanical metal drummer; and GTRBOT666, who plays bass and guitar.
Former members of C!BR include AUTOMATOM, the assistant drummer created by robots, The Ape Which Hath No Name who played tambourine halo; The Son of the Ape Which Hath No Name, who plays Monkey Cymbals; and the Headless Hornsmen, a full three-piece horn section.[1][failed verification]
The C!BR backstory states that the human, in an attempt to make his own band, created the robots. Instead of following him, they revolted, and now force him to travel the world with them, performing music and making him contemplate the inferiority of the human race.
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."
"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."