TacocaT bassist Bree McKenna has made a solemn vow to the Seattle music community: "I'll make an effort to be more sober at our next show." A couple of weeks ago, after a deluge of cocktails, TacocaT accidentally became unwitting headliners. "We thought we were going to play second," guitarist Eric Randall explains. "We got to the Funhouse and started drinking, and then we got pushed back to last and we kind of got fucked up."

"We got super fucked up," corrects drummer Lelah Maupin. "We played 'Peeps' twice, once at the beginning and once at the end."

McKenna jumps back in: "Well, it's our favorite of our songs and so we wanted to hear it again. I just started the bass line, because I was thinking, 'All right, it's time to get it started,' and everybody followed."

And Maupin for the win: "We hear that bass line and we just can't help ourselves."

TacocaT are the easiest interview ever. I just turn on the recorder and the Seattle foursome amuse the hell out of themselves. They're a group of longtime friends who started playing at house parties a few months ago. McKenna and Maupin are still taking lessons for their instruments. Randall plays in the Trashies, and McKenna has been in a couple bands, but the lead singer, Emily Nokes, had never performed before, though she insists that she's "classically trained in tambourine and kazoo."

"I noticed one day when we were in the car together that Emily has a crystal blue songbird voice," Maupin says, "I asked her to come out and sing with us when we were practicing and it's worked out."

The first thing they did was make matching outfits—tent dresses for the ladies, a jacket for the gentleman—to perform in.

"The matching outfits are the only gimmick that we have," Maupin says.

"Unless being shitty on your instruments is a gimmick, because then we have that," Randall adds.

I ask about their controversial name. "We've gotten a lot of hate for the name," McKenna mutters, and then Randall tells the story. "TacocaT was the first name we came up with," he says. "What sold me on it was when Bree told someone about it and they said, 'That's what an 8-year-old would name his band.'" So now they're committed to palindromes: potential album titles include Lonely Tylenol and Evil Olive.

With all the playing around, it's easy to forget that TacocaT are a good band, especially for one that's only a few months old. They've got at least 12 solid, catchy pop-punk songs in their repertoire. The other day, they wrote a song about women with muffin tops; while we're chatting about how one of the band members modified a thrift-store dress, Nokes suddenly shouts, "We should write a song about shoulder pads!"

Their songs are unabashed fun: There's the aforementioned "Peeps," which begins, "Peeps are delicious/squishy sugar-coated dream." Other songs are angrier than that bit of shameless Shonen Knifery: "Annual Violation" is a grrrl-punk rant about going to the gynecologist. Randall explains that he hates writing lyrics, which is why they have so many, as McKenna puts it, "vagina songs," adding that, "We were going to do a toxic shock syndrome song, but Lelah thinks it's too gross." Maupin defends herself: "I thought that took it too far. We already have songs about urinary-tract infections and Pap smears."

In concert, they're incendiary—pop-rock mixed with ragged screams. You're drawn in by the sugar-high beats and your blood starts pumping harder during the angry polemics about douchebag bicyclists who take themselves too seriously. TacocaT are very open about their influences: They cover Bikini Kill's "Carnival" in concert, and Nokes announces that they want to become the B-52's.

She also insists that, after their upcoming show at the Comet, "Recording is going to be top priority for us." The friends could face some turbulent times, though, if they keep writing angry songs about such specific subjects. When I suggest that their splenetic "Bike Party" is going to create some enemies in Seattle's notoriously hardcore cycling community, Nokes is blasé.

"I think we already have enemies," she says, almost hanging onto a straight face. "Bikers, girls with muffin tops, and gynecologists are all enemies of TacocaT."