Confab's first record - Defeat, About - was recorded almost entirely in a closet.
And not a figurative closet: it was recorded in the ".5" of a 1.5 bedroom apartment in Brooklyn, a recording studio that shared space with an ironing board, a vacuum cleaner, and a surprisingly effective (thrillingly dangerous) electric blanket.
This of course begs a very outdated question: why make records, and why make them under such cramped conditions? People don't seem to want them. They've got ringtones and playlists for all their music needs. And they certainly don't want rock music, specifically. New rock & roll can barely be found on the radio (which itself can barely be found at all). If it's not Creedence Clearwater Revival (incidentally, Confab loves CCR) or has not otherwise embedded itself in the pop radio landscape at least 15 years ago, modern pop/rock/alt/indie/wave music ought to just make like a tree and leave.
The answer, then, is in some ways very stupid and in some ways very simple (neither of which is mutually exclusive of the other) - you make records because you have to. Because you want to hear the music that's in your head, because you want to make music that you dig, and because you hope that someone else will hear it and dig it too.
So Confab did just that, and took its sweet time. Not because the band believes it can sell a million records (it believes it can sell a BILLION records), or because it thinks it needs to jump on a particular movement. But rather, Confab made Defeat, About so that it could play some shows and get some toes tapping and put its own penny stamp in the giant philatelic book of rock.
And that, ladies and gents, is the nerdiest rock metaphor since "We built this city on rock and roll."