Some of us like being abused. It’s what keeps horror movies, rollercoasters and alarmingly spicy foods popular.
A penchant for pain can dictate musical taste as well. On Monday, These New Puritans, a quartet from Southend-On-Sea, England, came to Great Scott to give a taste of the rudeness some fans crave. Too bad the room was barely half full when the whipping finally got under way.
Frontman Jack Barnett wore a jacket of golden scales that accentuated his already birdlike appearance, but he’s no feathered friend: no reassuring smile, no lighthearted banter. Instead, These New Puritans delivered a barely 40-minute set of sharp, shocked songs that mixed unrelenting bitterness with a vague sweetness.
Barnett and bassist Thomas Hein used their heavily accented, nasally congested speak/singing to militantly bark orders. Repetition reigned supreme. Their approach recalled Talking Head David Byrne’s vocal style, but These New Puritans weren’t nearly as playful.
Whether they intended any of this to be funny is anyone’s guess. The singles “Elvis” and “El Papier” were met with the most enthusiasm, the latter a study in contrasts between mumbled confusion and chanted clarity.
In the end, the Puritans’ mix of martial beats and programmed synth chaos was saved by the driving drumming of George Barnett (Jack’s twin brother) and Hein’s relentlessly thick bass lines. Keyboardist Sophie Sleigh-Johnson succeeded at looking beautiful and bored, adding the necessary bit of sexual tension to the band’s aloofness. Indeed, at no point did the foursome seem to seek the approval of the audience. And, somehow, that made These New Puritans more appealing.
Despite an early show of support for Cambridge electro-trainwreck Passion Pit, the room had emptied substantially by the time These New Puritans came on. Perhaps Passion Pit frontman Michael Angelakos’ wounded wailing had supplied all the abuse the crowd could handle.
THESE NEW PURITANS, with PASSION PIT at Great Scott, Allston, Monday night.
