Jemina Pearl fires a warning on the song that heralded Be Your Own Pet’s return after almost 15 years away: “When you can’t sleep / I’ll be the reason!” she yells, before guitarist Jonas Stein lets loose on an adrenalised, nerve-jangling solo. Hand Grenade is made in the model of the frenzied garage rock songs that shot the Nashville teenagers to indie fame in 2006 – but its threats hint at the band’s implosion two years later, following gruelling touring, industry misogyny and artistic restrictions from major label bosses.
As teens, Be Your Own Pet wrote funny, furious songs about growing up and grappling with society’s expectations. In some ways little has changed. New anti-party song Goodtime! rails against ageing, albeit from a slightly different perspective: “I’ve got two kids and a mortgage? What the fuck?” But while the schlocky revenge fantasies on their first two albums felt like fiction, the violence on Mommy feels extremely pointed. Never Again has a riff like a revving motorbike, itchy with anger, while Pearl’s brassy howls feel like a battle cry: “Too long I played your fool!”
After a decade apart, Be Your Own Pet are a far better band: explicit, tight, even more inventive. Rubberist is a stomping, freaky new-wave track miles apart from their all-go energy in the 2000s, but best of all is Pleasure Seeker, a stadium rock song with a queasy combination of euphoria, cynicism and Aerosmith-style swagger. It is a perfect pastiche of a hero’s return, only made possible by Be Your Own Pet’s power of hindsight.
