But when Cel Ray frontwoman Maddie Daviss resorts to comedy, it seems to come from an entirely natural place. In Cel Ray, Daviss hollers about purse dogs and mall misfits while trotting around thrusting her hips, kicking her legs in the air, and hunching over with knocked knees. Three years later, her bandmates match her speed on Cel Rayzer, their debut full-length album, to push both their energy and her comedy forward. That variation hits a sprawling peak with “Snake’s Maw,” in which Cel Ray tackle the rare slow number with the flair of a cool-headed stoic accepting the demise of everything around them. Her justification borders on an explanation for Cel Ray’s existence: “We have so much time/We have to fill this void with noise.”