"Auntie Kimya has a big fat fucking crush on her little nephews, the Pharmacy" – Kimya Dawson (Moldy Peaches)

There's a rock opera in B.F.F. somewhere, played by nerds. Not real nerds, mind you, but social ones, with too many Descendents and Frank Zappa albums in their record collections and all of the Aqua Team Hunger Force on VHS taped from Adult Swim, and bedrooms full of Christmas present musical equipment and empty bottles of Robitussin DM spread around the messy futon. The Pharmacy's MySpace page has gotten 24,888 views as of this writing, they've played out with Dawson (and while on tour collapsed the stage at the Capitol Theatre in Olympia), Schoolyard Heroes, and Paris Spleen, and have upcoming shows with the Cripples in Olympia and the Blood Brothers in Portland.

Brendhan and Scotty (last names not provided) started the band around 2000, and a "Mike Patton obsessive" named Joey came in to play distorted bass and keyboards (makes sense). For live shows, they'd bring in tambourines and extra things for people in the audience to play, and this infectious enthusiasm spills into their songwriting, seemingly full of stories and nonsense at the same time, songs beginning but never ending where they aught. Like the classic San Francisco punk party participation band the Thirteen Year Olds, Scotty only sings lead half the night, according to the website, as their fans take over the other half.

Sounding sometimes like a drunk, less intellectual They Might be Giants, with the same kinds of stylistic and tempo changes, except for sloppier playing and screamo vocal stylee on the choruses and in the background over the fourteen tracks on B.F.F., disco funk and punk rhythms burble up here and there, as an avalanche of guitars and keyboards sputter everywhere else. "Prince" tries to delay its catchy chorus as long as possible, but it can't help being hypnotic. On the brilliant "Anthrax," they tell the perhaps apocryphal story of their van theft, mixed with the general trouble of existence itself ("don't take anything for granted or the world will kick your ass — they say that it's okay but I say don't breathe in").