If you're reading this, you probably already know the bullet points regarding this particular beat combo-- they're from Nashville, they're teenagers, one of them dropped out of high school, their parents are music industry vets, the UK loves them to death, various pop-culture publications have been on their nubile jock since Insert Live Performance Here, and Thurston Moore thinks they're the bees' knees. Some other fun facts: Their full-length debut hits American shores today, on that once-in-a-century date 6/6/06, frontwoman Jemina Pearl's actual last name is Abegg (wise stage name choice, for damn sure), and they rock. No, what BYOP does isn't exactly the most original thing in the world-- watch out for rampant Yeah Yeah Yeahs comparison-- but they do it with a flair and panache and enthusiasm that belies their youth.
Don't expect any "Maps"-like moments on this record, though. The closest BYOP comes to showing a softer side is via a veiled threat-- "No, we're not out of ammo yet." Be Your Own Pet piss on everything in sight, and it's hard to not want to drop trou and join in on the fun. From the first moment of "Thresher's Flail" (a fitting title for this album's opener), the group's firing on all cylinders, speeding through 15 tracks in just over a half-hour. It's no surprise Bad Brains receives a shout-out-- Jonas Stein plays guitar hero, spitting out power chords every which way, while Nathan Vasquez and Jamin Orrall set a blistering pace and keep things moving quickly. The band's on point throughout, especially on "Bunk Trunk Skunk" as Pearl gleefully shouts, "I'm an independent motherfucker!" and threatens to make off with everyone's cherry.
As much as I'd like to spread the praise equally among all four Pets, it's hard not to focus on Pearl. Her wanton charisma-- equal parts PJ Harvey, Kathleen Hanna, and, yes, Karen O-- is a thing to behold live, but it's definitely not lacking on record. Granted, it would take a corpse to screw up lines as meaty as, "I'm wicked rad, and I'm here to steal away your virginity," or the Iggy Pop-esque request, "my brain is on fire, so piss right in my ear!" For most of the record, Pearl's set to search and destroy, whether she's yelling about zombies going out for a midnight snack, making bike-riding sound like the coolest shit to ever hit pavement ("we're on two wheels, baby!"), or going off her meds and drowning her boyfriend. She can also take it down a notch, as on "Adventure" where she slides in some charming asides ("okay, so yeah, it's cool, cause we're, like, adventurers") amidst her wilderness reportage.
Even at its most ominous, though, the album never loses its verve or vitality. It's just one quick hit after another, a succession of aural whippets that last long after the record's over. An album chock full of back-to-back barnburners might seem an exhausting listen, but BYOP bucks that trend with ease. And they just got the right to vote. Hell, if I were as good as these guys, I'd drop out of high school, too.
