What would you expect of a band that goes by the name of George Washington’s Penis? Ironic Americana? Comedy pop-punk? Avant garde synth noodlings? According to their PR: ‘Asked to describe their sound lead singer Chip said “USA! USA! USA! Touch my dong!” before falling over sideways.’ Not much help there, then.
But any guesses related to the activities of George Washington’s Penis would most likely be incorrect, as it is in fact a pseudonym used by New York’s lately lauded The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart for their secret gig at the tiny Buffalo Bar. The false name was not the only reference to early American history; frontman Kip Berman announced that he intended to play thirteen songs, one for each of the original colonies.
This tally presumably excluded the introductory sonic preamble, a protracted smear of feedback apparently intended to shatter the inner ear bones of the audience. Before beginning the repertoire of actual songs, Berman explained that he wanted to watch everyone cover their ears. The Pains made the brave decision to play this show without a setlist, but winged it well enough; the pauses they took to choose songs only added to the intimate vibe.
They began with a few of their more easy-going numbers, jangly indie-pop seasoned with a strong dose of fuzziness. Then, as they moved onto their more energetic material, the likes of ‘103’ and ‘This Love Is Fuckin’ Right’, they really came into their element and, from there, they didn’t let up. The audience, a mixture of kids with asymmetric haircuts, and middle aged men presumably nostalgic for the glory days of The Jesus And Mary Chain, reacted with all the enthusiasm the small space would permit. A speaker mounted on a stand to one side of the crowd’s bustle began to wobble precariously, threatening injury to whoever jostled it at the wrong time.
It wasn’t a perfect set: Berman failed to hit all his notes at times, and the new material offered up here was pretty hit and miss. But there was a lot to enjoy in this show. In particular, there was something rather heartening about hearing the repeated refrain ‘We will never die’ of The Pains’ eponymous set-closer. In the cosily crowded atmosphere, this line, which could easily have sounded trite, made for an endearing moment.
Like a tentatively worded remark on a school report, perhaps the nicest thing I can say about this release from The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart (TPOBPAH) is that it shows some potential. Lead track `Higher Than The Stars` will stick in your head, and is a genuinely catchy, if slightly twee, indie tune. Things go quickly downhill after that, as Kip Berman’s occasionally interesting lyrics are lost under bland blankets of sound. Limp acoustic guitars play host to the lovelorn couplets of `Falling Over`, a song which follows the winning formula that Black Kids laid out in 2008, only not so convincingly. `103` sounds like the pre-programmed `Euro-Disco` beat off of an old Yamaha keyboard. Intermittent synth flourishes liven things up throughout the EP, recalling early Grandaddy or Lemon Jelly, but it’s not enough to stop me dozing off by the halfway point of each track. What was maybe intended as exploratory has ended up being boring for the listener. It could be down to the flat production but I’m left wondering how Brooklyn, the scintillating home of Santogold, the Beastie Boys and Jay Z, spurned a band so humdrum. Sorry TPOBPAH, but I’m yet to be charmed.
