The Pains of Being Pure At Heart S/T. On I Love Music someone described this as My Bloody Valentine making records on K records. Not really. It's a bit like My Bloody Valentine circa Ecstasy and Wine sure but even that bit of k-rub was miles better than anything that ever came out on K that wasn't written by Amelia Fletcher. But it is I Love Music after all. Nick S******* walks about like some sort of colossus. First song is actually a slice of TeenBeat/Ropers-esque pop. They remind a great deal of Revolver except that they aren't horrible. Ropers had that one magical moment with Revolver but everything else they did was a disaster. They lucked into one immortal song. It's leagues more than I'll ever accomplish. Can Pains of BEing Pure at Heart singer sing? Indeterminate at this point. The voices are genderless, mixed so low as to not matter. Well, on first song, there is some random noise about being a "contender" but it doesn't reach much deeper than that. Second song, very Swirlies, translation-ace. Damon from the Swirlies did not sing either. But his lyrics are polemical. Zapata! Zapata! Pains of Being Pure at HEart are still looking for the undersized tee shirt for inspiration. Why are there so few wordless backing vocals in song arrangements these days. Is it lack of music theory education among the pop bands of today. Was it Reagan's draconian cuts in the 80s that "gutted" music education? Reagan killed the oooby-dooby sha-la-la. Damn Ronny Raygun. I remember my elementary music classes. We sang 'Who's Behind the False Face". The entire class would be silent in the group session except for me and this one girl who was able to sing. I could not sing, I was tone deaf from birth, but even then I didn't care what people thought of me. or I assumed I was invisible. "Who's behind the false face, nobody knows but me, I won't tell you, you will have to guess". Where are the ironic indie rawk covers of that then? Third song. More casual. They are often compared to Sarah Records, not certain why. It's definitely not anglophilia that is in the permanent gallery. It's a fuzzy blend of indie rock. More Seam than Tramway, more Small Factory than Gentle Despite. Actually, it is a bit Gentle Despite. Torment to Me, only better, much better, we've been approved for Gentle Despite denigration recently. I wasn't sure why anyone was making a fuss over Pains of Being Pure at Heart until the album was released. Has it been released? I have secret connections inside their camp, natch. They provide the thrift store bailouts to members. They look as if they come from privilege. Look at my class bias intact. It has been alive since my matriculation at Cranbrook academy. Halcyon days. Blaines, Morgans, Travis', topsiders, golf team, rolled up pant cuffs, all ahead of their time. But there was an ice arena and there was Alexei Lalas. Dream. But my haircut was self-inflicted. Third song is one of the best songs on the album. He might let female genderless singer sing lead once in a while, but I know...he probably writes the poetry because he's the one who bears the burden of eternal torment. He's so gentle, despite. Nasally outro, probably could have skipped this, or had her sing it. It turns a bit emo here. They do have a fondness for sweaters in their photographs. I've mentioned my bit against band photographs earlier, they need to be re-evaluated. Here are some rule to start with - No leaning against street lamps, no gazes cast downward, no big hats! Ok. Actually I like big hats. More big hats! Fourth song. Expletives, very modern. It's an answer to Bob Wratten. Essentially the entire album is the band trying to rewrite Sensitive by the Field Mice. Really. They don't succeed in trumping that. Guitar riff. I can't tell if they have ambition. They look content, that might mean that they don't actually need the band to be a success because they have nepotism to fall back on. So perhaps the next record will be a country record. That would be a delight. Next song. Fifth song, The Tenure Itch. Very Vampire Weekend title. His life of academic freedom indeed. I like this one too. It is a lot like those that have come before. Here is the formula, echoey drums, not many fills, fuzz, a variation of the Emma's House riff and his mumbling underneath. I am a sucker for it. Weren't the Field Mice on Sarah. Indeed, I am not consistent. I've never made that claim. I've decided I am no longer pro-chinese food or chinese buffets. I feel miserable always after eating Chinese. It is not gluttony's receipt. I must have a genetic trigger tied to the taste buds in the vascularized valleys of my tongue programmed to rail against the imperial glories of MSG. I convulse as a result of its activation. Next song, slight deviation from formula, a bit Brighter, hurrah. So my friends it is Sarah records-ish. I am a liar. But the fuzz, it's My Bloody Valentine amateur night. i don't receive Christmas cards because I am evil. I've been thinking about my days of gossip recently. I am so tired, I should not work when I am tired, my mouth loses all sense of restraint when I am exhausted and in self-defense mode. I will be certain to rest peacefully this evening so that my mouth and my keyboard are more responsible in the morning. It's early evening, in the dark I feel guilt that I've stored up all through the day drawn from my irascible rancor. Next song. I went to the mailbox just then. Nothing packaged with love and emotion, just heartless reads from the government and direct mail campaigners. The first single off of the album. It sounds a lot like the first couple of numbers. It's very good, very generic, teen disco hearts will be set aflutter when little Adolf Hitler Campbell asks Moxie Crimefighter to dance the slow dance under the stucco'd cathedral ceiling. Middle section, distortion, drum roll, guitar solo, whoa, the guitar lessons for precocious 11 year olds have paid off. There is a side project from Pains of Being Pure at Heart that belongs to the drummer, Cuba calling. Backing vocals are a tad Verna Brock. Well done. I suppose there is a trifle of Rocketship in this, I've misled you. If they added some farfisa they might be unstoppable at some point in the future. But then when the depression hits will anyone but the extravagantly well privileged be able to pick up a farfisa? Good thing Gid has granted them the grace of breeding from the right side of the tracks. Next song. A pop song. Some synthesizer on this one. Less fuzz, it's their 'Chris R'. They borrow a title from Dion. It's the best song on the album. It could have been the single. But would have Pitchfork approved of that decision? Who knows? I can hear him almost singing. It's pleasant. Is this how all of their songs begin before they turn up the hotcake pedals and go all David Saunders on an unsuspecting public? Possibly. An entire album of this would be just lovely. it's about christians, very risque! What will they do when Ted Haggard's legions are unleashed upon them with bloodlust and fury in their bible toting paws? It won't be pretty. Next song, a turn back to the original recipe. Fuzz, Field Mice, vagueness. I miss the last song more than I love this song. They are certain to make a big scene with the pitchfork kids with this record, they could be this years Summer Hymns. Lucky boys and lucky girl. I remember when Select had a spreadsheet grading bands on their indie quotient and one of the columns was OFM "Obligatory Female Member". Pains of Being Pure At Heart would have scored swimmingly. Last song. Big drums, slow burn, his voice almost imperceptible. It's all too deep, immolation is not allowed, he's loathe to reveal his scarred inner being in song, it is all too traumatic, impressionable young things would cast themselves from overpass to pavement underneath were they subjected to his morbid humility. It's rather good all the same. I am fond of the phrase 'rather good'. I withhold my anglophilia in real life. I use it only in my online existence where I have even fewer admirers than in reality. I am getting the itch to once again delete my website. Start over, make everything the same as it ever was. I may re-review the five songs on the Cocoanut Groove record that I already reviewed once because they were on that seven inch. But those were vinyl versions. I lack vinyl pretension. I could newly reveal the glories of Madeleine Street in digital form. Woo. This is early contender for second best album from 2009. Easy listening.