Internet phenom Pains at Barbary
Since the Pains of Being Pure at Heart - Pains or POBPAH, among fans - self-released an EP back in 2007, it has increasingly been blog-buzz fodder. The Brooklyn, N.Y., indie band's first full-length album, released this year on Slumberland Records, received high praise from outlets as varied as the New York Times, Pitchfork Media, and Rolling Stone Germany. So when the quartet rolled through Philadelphia on Wednesday to play the Barbary, it was a sold-out affair.
Since the Pains of Being Pure at Heart - Pains or POBPAH, among fans - self-released an EP back in 2007, it has increasingly been blog-buzz fodder. The Brooklyn, N.Y., indie band's first full-length album, released this year on Slumberland Records, received high praise from outlets as varied as the New York Times, Pitchfork Media, and Rolling Stone Germany. So when the quartet rolled through Philadelphia on Wednesday to play the Barbary, it was a sold-out affair.
Which is why it's a little puzzling that the whole evening felt so stagnant. Opener Zaza, also from Brooklyn, did decent renditions of Cure-inspired melodramatic rock, dreamy mid-tempo numbers that the crowd received well. Backing the eerie, austere vocals was some unexpectedly stellar drumming. Clean and crisp, with minimal overpowering bass, the drumming propelled the tunes and added a level of intensity and inventiveness to songs that might otherwise have fallen flat.
As Zaza finished, singer Danny Taylor announced that drummer Kurt Feldman was pulling double duty in both bands. Even a great drumbeat, however, wasn't enough to give Pains a hats-off performance.
Maybe it was because it was an early, all-ages show where doors opened at 6:30 p.m. Or maybe it's that the nature of the band's tunes - relentlessly upbeat and lo-fi, channeling the likes of Teenage Fanclub and My Bloody Valentine - doesn't inspire head-banging, dancing, or other forms of active engagement.
As Pains flew through the set, pausing only a few times while singer Kip Berman wished his mother a happy Mother's Day and mentioned that he grew up in Philadelphia, the band did good renditions of its songs, and audience members nodded appreciatively. The band is certainly endearing in its earnestness and charming naivete, but stage presence was pretty staid until the very end of the set, when the group began to let loose.
But then the set ended, the band flew off stage, the lights came on, and the stereo system kicked in. The crowd of twentysomethings filed out, neither excited nor disappointed. Just knowing they'd witnessed trendsetting at its height might have been enough for them.