Of all the bands to find themselves cast adrift on the tranquil waters of corporate apathy, none seems as unabashedly ironic and poetically unjust as the plight of Harvey Danger.

Formed in a Seattle that still looked promising to an alive and well Kurt Cobain, Harvey Danger came together under the roof of the University of Washington Daily, the campus newspaper. Aaron Huffman (bass) and Jeff Lin (guitar) discovered that they had a mutual affinity both for pop and the graffiti that graced the newsroom walls — graffiti that eventually became the band’s name.

The original intention was just to have a band to play house parties. The result was something that lasted a decade and spanned the oceans, albeit briefly. After recruiting lead singer Sean Nelson and drummer Evan Sult from their circle of friends, Harvey Danger was off.

In 1996, after playing together for four years, Nelson slipped a tape into the unsuspecting pocket of engineer John Goodmanson (Bikini Kill, Sleater-Kinney). Goodmanson was intrigued and agreed to a one-day demo session that eventually became Where Have All The Merrymakers Gone?

Merrymakers is a diverse collection of anxious pop songs. While its lyrics can be overly academic, pretense isn’t a part of the equation. Most of this is thanks to Nelson’s complete lack of restraint on vocals. He spits, screams and punctuates sentences with bursts of bitter energy.

Subjects go from the standard pop-fare (isolation, relationships) to decidedly less well-traveled roads. “Jack the Lion” is about the impotence of watching a loved one die. “Private Helicopter” is about knowing things aren’t going to work out, but going ahead anyway. “Old Hat” is about turning one’s back on relationships altogether.

Critics blasted the band for being too preachy and boring on the slow songs. Hardly the case, most critics just seemed to miss the Vonnegut-esque skew. Just because one’s characters believe something doesn’t make them right.

Songs like “Wrecking Ball” are uncompromising and dark with lyrics like, “Put down the wrecking ball / Don’t let a childhood linger / They’ll take the world apart and break my baby brother’s fingers.” Unfortunately, the aesthetic focus of critics missed not only what the lyrics were trying to say, but the lovely instrumentation as well.

This is where things start to get strange.

Merrymakers quickly garnered support on college radio thanks to the first single, “Flagpole Sitta.” “I’m not sick / but I’m not well.” Now, that wouldn’t be strange except for the fact that “Sitta” is entirely about poking fun at people who follow industry trends in an attempt to be cool. It was 1997; it was ironic.

But not as ironic as when the national release of Merrymakers on London Records spawned a bonafide TRL top 10 in the summer of 1998. To its credit, Harvey Danger had the presence of mind to be extremely confused.

Most old MTV interviews with vocalist Nelson feature him staring at the ground looking embarrassed. When asked by a VJ, “Why do you think ‘Flagpole Sitta’ is such a hit?” he bit his lip and said, “Well, it really shouldn’t be …”

With MTV comes the inauspicious threat of becoming a one-hit wonder, and even a second video directed by former They Might Be Giants alumni John Flansburgh (“Private Helicopter”) couldn’t resurrect Merrymakers.

However, to the surprise of all parties, Harvey Danger had not had its final hurrah. In 1999 HD headed back into the studio under the guidance of John Goodmanson to produce a follow-up. Favors were called in to get names like Grant Lee Phillips (Grant Lee Buffalo), Ken Stringfellow (Posies), Marc Olsen (Sage), and Ben Gibbard (Death Cab for Cutie) to guest on the album.

What came out of the studio was a total surprise. Nelson dubbed the main theme as “the conflict between faith and skepticism.” Far from the straight rock of Merrymakers, King James Version dipped into deeper wells.

Every track sizzles with energy. “Meetings With Remarkable Men” presents hypothetical conversations with Christ, the Avatar and Kip Winger. “That’s Not Why I’m Lonely” builds for three minutes on a shambling rhythm before sublimely breaking away. “Carjack Fever” races with adrenaline-charged guitar lines.

Nelson’s lyrics are in top form as well. In “Loyalty Bldg” he sings, “We’ve all heard about the rapist nun / She pulled a switch on everyone / The altar boys aren’t having fun and the papacy is drawing up the papers (behind closed doors)”

The album’s would-be hit, “Sad Sweetheart of the Rodeo,” is unabashed pop-rock. Nelson weaves a story about a housewife who lusts to ride bulls and fix engines instead of sipping lattes and downing Valium.

King James Version was released in 2000 on Sire Records to what can only be called a disgraceful reception. While the band had filmed a new video to be played on MTV, an intern made the unlikely mistake of playing “Flagpole Sitta” instead.

The new video never got aired during daylight hours. Most college radio stations canned the album before even giving it a listen because of the top 40 notoriety of “Flagpole Sitta.”

And save for a couple of soundtracks, that was it. Two more lost jewels found their way to the used music bins. While the band hasn’t disbanded yet, Harvey Danger finds itself on the endangered list.

In an ironic kind of way, it’s a little bit funny, but HD will be the first to tell you that.