Be Your Own PET

Oh, what is it with girls in bands? Why do I get suckered in every time by a pretty face, sweaty armpits and their breathless, orgasmic vocal techniques? Ah, I see. Breathless, orgasmic.

I fear I have lost all impartiality where Jemina Pearl is involved. I'm just one step away from setting up a shrine to her. Well, she'll be at one end, the Drag's Annie Hardy will be at the other. But which way to turn? Whoever sings in the most breathless, orgasmic manner will get me, I guess. Whoever shows the most torso on stage. Whichever one sweats the most.

Still, I do happen to think that Be Your Own PET's debut also contains some very good tooons, as I believe they're called, many of which make me giggle like an adolescent. My, how I lurv We Will Vacation You Can Be My Parasol (yes please, Jemina!) and how I lurv it when Jemina tells me she is an "independent motherfucker". She's as unhinged as Honey Bunny from Pulp Fiction.

The most obvious sign that this is a band that will overcome and transcend my all too basic interest in its lead singer is the tooon Ouch, a crazy little ditty that crunches and grinds and struts like coffee in a blender. Which is a good thing, in case you're wondering. And this is a damn good album. And have you noticed how Jemina sings in the most fantastic breathless, orgasmic manner?