Pkew Pkew Pkew
Pkew Pkew Pkew

Release Date: 2016 | Tracklist

Pkew Pkew Pkew’s debut Pkew Pkew Pkew (yup, that’s what its called) really should not work. It’s a 21 minute breeze of an album consisting almost entirely of 90s pop punk clichés and cultural stereotypes, intentionally exaggerated and distorted to their extremes in quite a caricatural fashion. Sloppy distorted power chords peppered with simplistic, bouncy melodies burst from every crevice of the record, propelled forward by energetic and vibrant drum work. This backdrop is laden with unashamed ‘woahs’, ‘yeahs’, and gang vocals exploring a ridiculous assortment of jovial topics – there are indeed songs dedicated entirely to the ‘nuances’ of ordering pizza, dealing with arsehole neighbours, and getting smashed with a couple of mates. Its dumb and its silly and it fails pretty much every objective criterion of musical excellence I can think of, yet its undoubtedly the most fun I’ve had with an album in quite some time.

Indeed, I’ve had the hardest time trying to articulate why, despite all the odds, such an amalgamation of cheese and immaturity doesn’t make me want to slam my head into my desk, but instead readily forces a smile. It’s certainly helped by the charm and energy with which each song is delivered, and some rough and lively production. Short, 1:30 track lengths ensure no song outstays its welcome, and a self-aware execution means that the listener laughs with and not at Pkew. But the main reason for its success is a little more subtle and impressive: Pkew appear to have successfully bottled the spirit of the genre that they champion.

The album’s underlying message is very much that of finding joy amidst adversity, an easily relatable endeavour that (I believe) has always remained a constant thematic thread within pop punk, even in it’s more mature and morose modern manifestations (The Wonder Years, The Hotelier, etc.). Pkew’s nonsensical ramblings on booze and friendship thus begin to make a bit more sense, collectively producing an aesthetic of freedom, reckless abandonment and stubborn happiness, complimented by the record’s bubbly and anthemic instrumental backdrop. Such themes are solidified by album highlights and bookends, ‘Blood Clot’ and ‘Kathie Lee + Hoda’, quashing any doubts that I was finding meaning where there was none. The former’s tale of a skateboarding accident equally serves as a rallying metaphor for overcoming life’s hurdles, battered and bruised but grinning all the same. ‘Kathie Lee + Hoda’ mirrors such ideas, closing the record by kicking the Pkew formula up to an 11; the linearly-structured song winds briskly to a blazing solo that, in turn, gives way to a euphoric chant of “I could suffer through life or have fun 'til I die”, concluded with a defiant cry of “I just wanna lay down, but *** it, I'll fight”. It’s a fitting finale that neatly encapsulates why Pkew’s self-titled is so damn likable, as absurd as it is. It’s an endearing, fun and familiar mess of an album, as silly as they come, and pushing a message that I think we can all get behind: Keep calm, carry on, and have a beer.

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3.5 great