The PK 27 -- Track 9

Six years ago, when the idea of the PK 27 entered its preliminary phase, we had several great ideas for our musical selections. Since that time, we've come up with a few good choices, but we still haven't finished. We could chalk it up to a plethora of things: creative differences, displaced fervor, leprosy, demanding career choices, sex, idealjetsam, etc. Whatever the rationale, we're still a few songs short of the nebulous twenty-seven track delineation.*

I shall condemn our inability, but not our intention; which remains as pure as babies' flesh (and twice as delicious, I may add). I will also, dare I venture into unwelcome crevices, suggest that we suffer a dearth of female vocalists, and/or musical talent in our bombastic collection. Please don't misunderstand me, or my brethren; that we neglected our effeminate readership for such an extended period of time was unintentional, and has no bearing upon our adoration of those of the female persuasion.**

Before I throw down a track, I'd like to mention just how much I wanted to suggest a song by Stevie Nicks. That lady shits lyrical gold when she's in the mood, and the instrumentation follows suite, but alas, she doesn't have the PK vibe. Wild Heart and Bella Donna are stellar albums, surely, but that shall not influence my selection.

To rectify the errors of omission, the ninth track is thus:

Dumb, by Garbage.

I'm fully aware of the fact that Garbage is scarcely the world's greatest band, just as this is less than their greatest song and, furthermore, that Shirley Manson isn't nearly the sexual icon that a generation of angst-ridden, unbathed, patricidal youths deemed her to be.*** Having said that, I still think that it works especially well, given the venue. We're not the brightest bunch, even with such belying monikers as Sparkles.**** Conversely, you (dear reader) aren't the Harvard Ph.D material that you'd like to think you are. Once we all fathom the circumstance, we're sufficiently prepared to enter into a reciprocal appreciation of lyrics like:

Maybe I could write a letter
To help me with my self-esteem
You should get to know me better
No one's ever what they seem

and

Now that you know what you know
I bet you wish you could let it go
You'll never come sucking your thumb
Better off dumb

If there were a place for female-fronted groups on the PK 27, it would be here, just prior to Jay-Z's Girls, Girls, Girls. Crucify Denz, not me.

_____________________________________________

King Astarte


* A nebulous delineation of twenty-seven tracks? Once you apprehend that notion, grasshopper, you're ready to become a contributor.

** Unless we're talking about females involved in the comedy scene.

*** Version 2.0 is, nonetheless, a fantastic album.

**** I still love you, my sexy liquor locust.