They did it well, too. Singer Megan McLaughlin's alto is characterized at times by a nonchalance that plays well against the positive vibes the band conjure; yes, it conveys a certain irreverence, but there's an air of seriousness to it that suggests there's deep meaning at work beneath the band's sun-soaked sound.
There were flubs here and there, possibly due to nerves — "I'm so sweaty and nervous that my hands are slipping everywhere," admitted McLaughlin — but for the most part, they were a tight unit, hitting the sharp, staccato endings and other twists and turns with flair.
They spent an inordinate amount of time building up to their oldest song by saying how much they hate it, but it was catchy and likeable, not worthy of the scorn they heaped upon it. That being said, their next song audibly demonstrated the progress they've made since writing that first track, and they impressed in the slowed down-to-sped-up outro to their penultimate track, so maybe the fact that they're already over their earliest material is just a sign that the Mudflowers have ambition. So they should; they've got the talent to match it.