The Pains of Being Pure at Heart
Days of Abandon

Sweet and crystalline pop, pure secondhand jangle. Entirely gone are the background noise and fuzz, and welcoming are the dreamy atmospheres of Sarah along with constant nods to the Smiths and the Cure.

Atmospheres and nods that were already there. The Pains of Being Pure at Heart may have changed a lot of members along the way, but their imprint is always unmistakable. A revival imprint, mind you. One could say that the change of direction taken after the first album, rather than introducing novelties, has removed elements. Does it work?

It works, because these are all well-written, well-performed songs with beautiful melodies.

It works to a certain extent, because the album never goes beyond being "well-written, well-performed, and with beautiful melodies."

It is enjoyable, not exhilarating; it entertains the pop fan, displeases the noise fan, is appreciated by those who loved the band from before, and is disliked by those who already didn’t appreciate them.

I allow myself once more my half-hour/three-quarter-hour of pink cotton candy, which doesn't stick to the hands but stays in the head for another half hour, along with many mental images of candies, lomo filters, and girlfriends bored on the other side of the phone. All things I love to listen to when I am in an uncertain mood, between melancholic and relaxed, neither happy nor sad. All very beautiful stuff, and once I'll listen to it more than willingly. But with so much other potential twee pop at hand, I don't know if I'll listen to it three times.