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Ok, so first off I must iterate the fact that this particular run down is in no particular order, nor is it a definitive list of the best British record labels of all time (as if such a breakdown could ever be truly quantified). It is simply a list of some personal favourites within the British...MORE>>

I would love to see The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’s record collection. I imagine it to be an immensely vast anthology of dusty vinyls incorporating the entire Rough Trade, and subsequently, Blanco y Negro discographies. All those rare fossilized gems, which only exist in handful worldwide, those first Cocteau Twins pressings, those rare My Bloody Valentine EP’s.  Such a romantic assumption may be somewhat blinkered, but if The Pain of Being Pure at Heart’s current

releases are anything to go by, I don’t think I’m far wrong.

It would be an utter fallacy to maintain that ‘The Pains of Being Pure at Heart’, or TPOBPAH as I shall be referring to them as for the remainder of this article, are doing something new. In fact, the New York Noiseniks are so steeped in post-Jesus And Mary Chain psycadelic ambience, that it would be somewhat impudent to describe

upcoming single, ‘Come Saturday’, as anything less than exercise in pure post-modernism, a heady exploration into the musical milieu from which TPOBPAH have been cultivated.  

The dense barrage of noise, offset by Kip & Peggy’s melodious duality, presents a deeply translucent musical experience, each listen yielding yet another subtly layered dynamic. Superficially, three minutes worth of bubblegum noise-pop, ‘Come Saturday’ implements so many of the Shoegaze archetypes that TPOBPAH wouldn’t sound out of place being played, at extreme volume, on 7”, through a 1980’s record player. TPOBPAH’s wall of noise is irrevocably reminiscent of that eponymous first listen to ‘Psychocandy’, delicately blending noise & melody to the degree that it is impossible to define where either begins or ends. An Art in itself.

TPOBPAH’s penchant for classically obscure noise-pop can be heard within the balance between the almost unbearably fuzzy guitars and Kip’s frail verbal meanderings. The latter often in danger of being flattened by the former and disappearing into the tumultuous ether, but such is there admiration of 80’s obscurity that Kip is always there, just enough to ensure the listener has something to hold onto.

Along with fellow downbeat stable mates, The Crabapples, TPOBPAH have been riding the creative wave of Slumberland Record’s avant-garde signing policy for some years now and have been slowly garnishing a reputation for breakneck live shows amongst the New York club scene. This intensity is only undone by the fact the band have a real ear for melody, regardless of physical execution.

With a myriad of critical of exultation behind them it seems TPOBPAH may be at the forefront of a contemporary Shoegaze revival. Black shirts, ‘Flock of Seagulls’ haircut & general nihilism at the ready as 2009 demands us all to feel the pains of being pure at heart.