Pure Energy

“If you’re going to have a song with the same name as your band, it should be really, really good,” says Kip Berman, lead singer and guitar player for The Pains of Being Pure at Heart, who manages to laugh at what he’s saying even when he’s doing his best to be serious. And the track in question, a three-minute shoegazey anthem that concludes the band’s debut five-song EP (which is also self-titled, if you’re keeping score of how much the group likes this particular appellation) is a piece of driven pop optimism that does all the heavy lifting that the title requires it to.

The song, which includes a semi-narrative, encouraging string of inclusive lyrics with a repeated refrain—“We will never die!”—takes the listener to an oddly hopeful place that rock music, particularly in that jaded indie epicenter that is NYC, seems to seldom visit.

The trio are comfortable describing their jangly and melodic aesthetic as “sincere” and, huddled on a slab of playground equipment in a small public space in Chelsea, children scurrying and yelling nearby, they talk with equal parts humor and honesty (bassist Alex Naidus is quick to describe his previous musical ventures as “shitty talent show-level” endeavors) about the shared purifying experiences of being in a band.

“We practice at my office,” says keyboard player and vocalist Peggy Wang-East with a smile, explaining that the six-person web start-up she works for, which is housed in a non-corporate Chinatown building that also contains mahjong parlors and an abortion clinic, generally vacates by 8 p.m., making room for band practice. “My boss is totally cool,” she adds, “and since we don’t have a drummer”—Berman programs a machine with beats he amusingly claims are interchangeable—“we are able to have quiet practices.”

Which doesn’t in any way necessitate lethargic performances. None of the band’s songs stretch over three minutes (well, they might edge a second or two past the mark if you include the humming feedback that tends to open and close the numbers on their EP), so they like to keep the energy level high with succinct live sets, such as a cramped gig in a New Jersey pool house that had sweaty high school students dancing and energetically clapping along. In their own way—despite crafting a record of hazily-affected vocals that sport only pink-tinged clouds and an unimposing font on the cover—The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart are kinda punk.

But not too punk. Berman, whose grandparents actually mail cookies to him and his co-workers from Wisconsin (“They clearly love the shit out of Kip,” Naidus says), has nothing but accolades to offer when asked about Swedish pop staple ABBA, and he quickly notes that “there’s a way to use technology to make your life easier” when asked about the band’s reliance on a drum machine.

And not long after Berman sums up the importance of kinship, and explains how “bands that are comprised of friends just sound better” there’s a security guard holding his keys up, yelling across the playground for The Pains to go. They quickly make their way through the exit, and the guard locks the gate. Being Pure Of Heart will seemingly have to wait.

Aug. 7, Cake Shop, 152 Ludlow St. (betw. Stanton & Rivington Sts.), 212-253-0036; 8, $tba.