The Pains of Being Pure at Heart

So while this may not technically be my first foray into writing about music, I am still rather uncomfortable with the whole deal, mostly because for the past 20 years or so I have done very little in the way of making music, and therefore I feel rather like Sarah Palin discussing strategic arms control.

I can appreciate lyrical genius and composition as much as the next rube, but typically big sound has always been what it takes to raise my heart rate. When it comes to pop/rock music, I could probably deal with the lead singer of the Decembrists' vocals so long as there are 30 guitars and a 17-story bass played by King Kong backing him up. I guess the most glaring example of this affinity for the heavy pop guitar would be Siamese Dream by the Smashing Pumpkins. Cherub Rock, the first song on that album, changed my perception of what pop music could be, and forever after I have always leaned toward artists who can emulate that wall of sound.

Anyway, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart released their debut album earlier this year on Slumberland Records, and they ride that sort of noise-pop vein with exceptional skill. Granted they probably have more in common with The Jesus and Mary Chain or The Magnetic Fields than the Pumpkins in terms of style and sound, but all four bands still come with that big fuzzy love. Being a pop album in this day and age, of course, they have some overly-tender emo moments, but overall their sound pleases me.

SO, without further ado, I recommend POBPAH's first album, which is self-titled (but fuck you I'm not typing it all out again), to anyone who likes distortion pedals and virtually inaudible mumbling vocals. That is a backhanded compliment rather than an insult, which is kinda how I roll, so deal.

Pitchfork rating = 8.6

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