The Attic Ends

I knew this was going to be good, but I didn't know HOW good until it happened to me. Seeing pictures of a Mother Feather performance, one might think that they have an idea of how the show will play out, but, just as a picture of a sumptuous meal isn't the same as indulging in said meal...you get the idea. Seeing Mother Feather live is like watching a bonfire; they smoulder and dance and explode and burn. Along with heat, they emit a strange, aggressive, confrontational sexuality. At times, lead singer, Ann Courtney, is a screaming, fist-pumping dynamo and, at other times, she appears as a chastened child...the kind who plays with matches, her voice is warm, impish, admonishing, dirty, flirty and often soaked in both sincerity and innuendo. This might sound fractured, schizophrenic, but it all fits, it's all Mother Feather. Ann and Lizzie (backing vocals and keyboards) work in perfect concert, like some ferocious, otherworldly clock, telling us to revolt and dance and live, rather than just what time it is. Their smirking, perfectly placed and executed interactions serve to expertly display their background in theater and how well they utilize it. Highlights of the evening included the playful choreography of their opener, "Egyptology", the energetic sensuality of their infectiously catchy "Trampoline" and, as always, their massive, anthemic closer, "Mother Feather", which you really need to experience to understand. These ladies and their harem of talented instrumentalists are so much more than just what's on record, if you're just listening to the music, you're not getting all of Mother Feather.