The Pains of Being Pure at Heart: Hell EP

For all the instant good will they stockpiled with their woozily sincere take on ’80s and ’90s indie-pop, the Pains of Being Pure at Heart have always invited doubts that they were, at their core, little more than gifted impressionists. Mostly they’ve let any criticisms about their originality bounce right off of them. Instead of trying to prove themselves more than the sum of their record collections, they’ve simply continued showing off how vast those record collections are. 2011’s Belong expanded on their debut’s C86 jangle with blood-rushing alternative rock, while last year’s understated Days of Abandon took an even deeper tour through the Hall of Semi-Obscure UK College Rock than their debut did.

That tour continues on their new Hell EP. It’s one of the band’s most low-stakes releases yet: an original song, which band leader Kip Berman first posted as a demo along with several songs that didn’t make the cut for Days of Abandon, and two quick covers. In hindsight, he might have done well to find room for Hell's title track on Days of Abandon; its chipper spirit would have helped lighten an album that sometimes begged for a pick-me-up. Like nearly every Pains of Being Pure at Heart track, it’s obsessively specific in its influences, with a sticky disco groove that nods to Orange Juice and the puppy-dog giddiness of an early Close Lobsters single. Even Berman's vocals feel like an homage; he sings in a warbled sigh that sounds a lot like Pete Shelley.

Given how openly the band has always embraced their influences, it’s surprising they haven’t recorded more covers—Berman often seems to be channeling other artists’ voices and accents anyway, so it’s not much of a leap to sing their words, too. Each of Hell’s covers serve as a statement of taste. One celebrates one of the quintessential overlooked British guitar-pop bands Felt’s “Ballad of the Band”, while the other reclaims a familiar if underappreciated hit, James’ “Laid”, a treasure of a song that lost much of its cache when the American Pie franchise claimed it as its own.

Both are too faithful to offer any real surprises, and the band’s last album already owed so much to Felt that their “Ballad of the Band” almost feels redundant. “Laid” delivers more of a kick. Their version doesn’t quite capture the orgasmic glee of James’ original, but it features a game lead vocal turn from A Sunny Day in Glasgow singer Jen Goma, who’s been moonlighting with Pains since their recent lineup shakeup. Unlike Berman, she’s not afraid to leave her own stamp on her cover, and she punctuates the song’s most biting line with just the right amount of a punk snarl: “Dye my eyes and call me pretttttttty.”

Pains’ debut album introduced a band that had not only clearly mastered their influences, but seemed on the brink of doing something truly new with them. Six years later, it’s now clear they have no interest in that; Berman is too reverentially devoted to his muses to risk bastardizing them. When a band’s output is this consistently pleasant, it's petty to complain too much about originality, but Hell is the group’s second overly safe release in a row, and it’s hard not to wish they’d start taking a few more chances. This band is talented enough to be aiming much higher.