The Pipettes are your new God.
That’s really all you need to know to buy their first album. But some of you out there might be Pipette Atheists or just Pipette Agnostics, so as a Pipette Evangelical, it is my duty to steer you to our tri-polka-dot-dressed Lord. Or Lady. Or Ladies. Or whatever. Holy Trinity?
Their spacey first book of their debut testament shows how they created the Universe with some static and reverb effects. Unlike some people, it only took them 12 seconds. And we’re talking EARTH seconds here, none of that fancy footwork with explaning how by “seconds” I mean “years” or anything. Twelve Mississippis. All they want is your soul, and they’ll grant you what you want. And they’re pretty.
It’s, however, their second book, “Pull Shapes“, which is their anthem. Pulling together the teachings of the elder prophets Phil of Spector and Barry of MotorTown, the Pipettes have put together an utterly catchy and hummable hymn that makes you want to genuflect over and over. The Cecil B. DeMille motion picture made to accompany this book is a brilliant homage to St. Meyer and his J text, Beyond the Valley of the Dolls.
The other books are as equally catchy and informative on how to properly praise and service The Pipettes. Lo, as in “One Night Stand”, they prove that they can be wrathful, and “It Hurts To See You Dance So Well”, they show that they are at times insecure, but what good diety isn’t? And, at a testament that clocks in at just 33 and a half minutes, you don’t need to spend months getting through. The Pipettes have the forsight to make their commandments and get out — no lists of begats at all. There’s no time — they’ve got THINGS TO DO. Being saviours isn’t all just standing around looking cute, you know.
The record spun down, and we heard that it was Good.