Pains of Being Pure

The Pains of Being Pure at HeartThe Pains of Being Pure at HeartEvery few full moons I’ll find myself running into a record store at closing time, chased by werewolves and skateboarders. Once there, and only because I’m happy to be alive, I’ll hastily - and randomly - chose a new album to buy. Okay, not completely randomly, but I will take a chance based on factors having nothing to do with sound. Album art. Record label. Band name. Song titles. Quality of the facial hair presented in the band photo. You get it. Usually an awful experience that I regret, this month’s purchase surprisingly provided me with much enjoyment. I hit the aisles aimless and left with a copy of The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s eponymous debut album - a record that immediately looked the part.

Once home a bit of research taught me that Pains is in fact a much hyped debut from a crew of Brooklyn darlings who wear the tightest jeans imaginable. Aside from being a little too scrubbed clean for my personal rock n’ roll imagination, yep, they felt about right. Finally, after an hour or so of superficial criteria checks and tired-eyed research, I popped the disc open and slipped it in my player, blasting it on repeat until I passed out.

Compared by many reviewers to My Bloody Valentine, Ride and a fistful of obscure late ‘80s bands, I instantly found myself playing the Name That Influence game with each song - yet even more superficial stretching. MBV and Ride do come out to play a bit (mostly in the way the vocals are treated), but I hear much more. I hear The Smiths, very early R.E.M., early Belle & Sebastian and even some Raveonettes. There’s more, too, but these four acts - especially The Smiths - work as better descriptors than any of the more obscure bands most reviewers have been so hipply (my word, don’t touch) mentioning.

As is the case with any debut that plays its cards so plainly, Pains will work differently for different people. Young ears should love it and use it to discover other bands from rock n’ roll past. Mid-level ears (the most wrongfully pretentious you’ll find) will most likely hate it and find its fuzzy version of retro pop to be played out. Seasoned listeners, depending on how nostalgic they wax, will either love it for its familiarity or avoid it for the same reason. Werewolves and skateboards will be split up the middle.

Me? Well, I tried to hate it. Tried. Any band with pants so tight and sounds so stolen usually do very little for me. Hours after my first listen I found myself humming the hook for “Contender,” the record’s opening track. This led me back to the fuzz. The more I listened, the more I heard “the melt.” And by “the melt,” I mean the way these young kids took the best of what they know, crammed it all together, slightly altered it and called it their own. This approach wouldn’t usually work for me, but when you write songs as catchy as “Everything With You” and “Come Saturday,” and as epic as “Stay Alive” (not to mention songs that can be cranked or turned low (MBV were also great for this), you’ll bring me back.

After a week of listening I figured that Pains would be my Vivian Girls record for 2009, offering me a few weeks of intense pleasure, then, well, nothing more than a coaster. Not the case. Though this record is hardly groundbreaking, it is a surprisingly sturdy (and oh-so-poppy) ride through the late ‘80s/early ‘90s college rock neighborhood that suites me fine. The first great debut record of 2009.   9/10

Written by G. William Locke