The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart - Belong (Fortuna Pop!) Released: 28/03/11

Excruciatingly long band name aside, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart are a simple bunch.  They were happy to follow the C-86 template of jangling indie, complete self-depreciating lyrics and frenetic scuzzed-up choruses on their winsome self-titled debut, and bar a more palatable production job, Belong follows pretty much the same line.

Having brought über-producer Flood (My Bloody Valentine, U2, Smashing Pumpkins) on board to man the mixing desk, what this sophomore album really represents is an attempt to smoothen out this Brooklyn based quartet’s rough edges for consumption by a broader audience.

In this respect Belong works a treat. Its title track thrusts the record into life with a brash grungey chorus pitched against lead singer Kip Berman’s trembling vocal take and such a pleasingly strident pace rarely abates for the album’s duration.

Sing-along moments are a-plenty, if lacking in any meaning beyond an initial catchy hook, ‘Heart In Your Heartbreak’s “She was the heart in your heartbreak, she was the miss in your mistake” is a typical case in point.

Furthermore, this endearingly earnest bunch have evidently honed their fey songwriting skills to the point where rumbling surf-punk (‘Girl Of 1,000 Dreams’), looping synth confessionals (‘My Terrible Friend’) and wistful summer-pop (‘The Body’) all come easily.
It’s perhaps for this veneer of comfort then that you can’t help wish that TPOBPAH had pushed themselves a tad to belt out a record that tests not only the listener but themselves. Having all but eradicated the more polarizing shoegaze-indebted sonics of their debut, Belong is essentially the best bits of your favourite indie bands distilled into one palatable package.

A package that includes the delectable sugar-coated rush of ‘Heavens Gonna Happen Now’ and ‘Strange’ for sure, but one which refuses to marks itself out as an album distinctively made by TPOBPAH.

This lack of a definable identity nags away at the enjoyment of Belong to the point where it’s entirely up in the air as to whether you’re enjoying the album on face value or for its adept pastiche of The Vaselines and Slowdive.

In a month where the “resurgence” of guitar music has been heralded by tepid records from both The Strokes and The Vaccines, TPOBPAH have made an LP that surpasses those modest milestones with panache. Whether it points to a particularly bountiful future for the six-stringed instrument is an entirely different manner.