KAT ROBICHAUD prowls around the stage- a hellcat unleashed, furious to have been confined in southern 90s suburbia stasis. With various wigs and rock warrior whimsy, she shrieks catharsis that at once stops and rushes the blood of anyone within earshot of her siren song. Part Janis, part Bette, part Mama Cass- Robichaud writes murder ballads, broadway pop songs about anxiety, and neo-wave rock and roll on anything from alien sex to gaslighting puppeteers.