With ā€œQuick,ā€ their stripped-down, deliciously funky track about liquor and vengeance, New Orleansā€™ Tank and the Bangas beat out more than 6,000 other submissions for NPRā€™s 2017 Tiny Desk Contest. Watch the first five seconds of the bandā€™s entry, and youā€™ll understand why: Tightly packed into a high school classroom, the septuplet reels off each otherā€™s energy in a theatrical, jazzy performance that blends hip-hop and spoken word. The whole thing bursts at the seams with joy.

When I speak to her on the phone, frontwoman Tarronia ā€œTankā€ Ball is happily cruising around New Orleans, which she says ā€œactually feels like a special thing, because I donā€™t feel like Iā€™m even home that much these days.ā€ Ever since the win, theyā€™ve been travelling nonstop with NPRā€™s Tiny Desk Contest on the Road tour.

ā€œThereā€™s a lot going on,ā€ Ball says, ā€œbut you get rejuvenated the moment you hear somebody sing the entirety of ā€˜Quick,ā€™ or, you know, canā€™t wait to hear ā€˜Rollercoasters.ā€™ The only thing that gets on my nerves is taking off my shoes in the airport.ā€ She lets out an emphatic laughā€”something that happens frequently and contagiously throughout our conversation.

When sheā€™s on the road, what Ball misses most about New Orleans is the food. Itā€™s what she and background vocalist Anjelika ā€œJellyā€ Joseph first bonded over at college. ā€œI canā€™t even explain it,ā€ Ball says of their connection. ā€œItā€™s just a natural chemistry, because thereā€™s a friendship that goes beyond the stage. So when we get up there, you basically just get to see how we are when weā€™re in private. We laugh, we joke, we just be dancing all the time, singing, killinā€™, eatinā€™ all the time. And when we add music to that, itā€™s kind of awesome.ā€

Before she tried songwriting, Ball channeled her creative energy into slam poetry. The switch didnā€™t come easy at first: ā€œWhen I was doing it alone, it was so much easier for me to say what I wanted and just hope that everyone understood it,ā€ she says. ā€œNow I have to be true to myself, but expand myself so that others can understand some of the things that Iā€™m writing. Thatā€™s a process because, you know, Iā€™m just naturally a backwards person... I am the frontwoman of this group, but I in no way do this alone. I couldnā€™t do this alone. It wouldnā€™t even have the same impact alone. The Bangas are really importantā€”every single person on that stage.ā€

Tankā€™s onstage movements and voices surprise even herself. She laughs, ā€œI get up there, and I donā€™t even watch some of the videos because Iā€™ll be like, ā€˜Girl, you crazy!ā€™ Itā€™s something else. Itā€™s someone else.ā€

Though she started with slam poetry, for Ball, growing up in a musical house set the stage for her singing career. ā€œMy dad could sing really well,ā€ she says. ā€œHe was a disc jockey and he used to entertain all over. Heā€™s the one that actually gave me my nickname, Tank. He died really early [after] his pancreas burst inside of his body, but he was a singer and it makes me feel like Iā€™m pretty much finishing out his dream. This is what he wanted to do. This is who he was. I donā€™t even know where all of this really comes from, but it must come from him.ā€

Ball describes Tank and the Bangasā€™ live shows as ā€œa rollercoaster experience. It really goes up, it goes down, and thereā€™s the calm after the light.ā€