- Independent UK Promoting

COG Review - 18/10/08 (Indelicates/Work/Last Republic/P.S. of Pompeii)

Club Night Review

Saturday 18^th October at the Metro, Oxford Street

Bands: Poor Souls of Pompeii, Work, Last Republic, Indelicates

In any routine situation/scenario - good or bad, tantalisingly evolving or mind-numbingly tedious - occasionally really great things happen. It can be world changing, like when a Neanderthal randomly chopping wood in a forest accidentally invents the wheel, or something as private and unique as a sip of hot coffee just as the first, gleaming rays of sunshine climb over the opposite building to tenderly warm your partner’s wrinkled skin. And as you put on your coat and climb over the elderly care home’s fence, refreshed and ready for another day of flashing in parks (a lost art these days), think of the Saturday just gone, and a damn near perfect club night proffered by Check Out Gigs at the Metro.

A packed crowd and four tremendous bands made for a particularly memorable event. Poor Souls of Pompeii kicked things off with their – and here’s the surprise – quite uncommon take on this techno-inspired indie that’s so prevalent in today’s scene. Don’t get me wrong; they’re still poppy, catchy, and contain all the radio-friendly hooks needed to get the average skinny-jean wearing teen moving.

But their idiosyncrasies lie in nobler pursuits than most of their contemporaries. Where PSoP develop their guitars throughout a track, leading to more progressive song structures, bands like The Delays would instead concentrate on making things simpler to add more ‘impact’ (a producer’s idea more than an artist’s) and instead sound more style than substance. PSoP dare to flaunt their talents, not just in ideas but musicianship. The drumming is of a high standard throughout and the keys have their bit in the sun without eating up every other instrument.

It’s not all perfect. They seem off-kilter and interesting in their build ups but a lot of their choruses are too synth-orientated, served up with techno-beats symptomatic of a million other acts.

But as with most indie bands, a large chunk of their quality rests with the voice. And the voice is quality. It, coupled with the above-average songcraft represents PSoP’s superiority. Live and in the music videos they’ve made, Andrew Pisanu comes across as a conceited prick who’s seen too many Maroon 5 clips. He also has the most punchable face this side of that annoying twat from Hard-Fi, but the important thing is he backs it up with a superb vocal talent that brings the PSoP from a good version of, well, Maroon 5 to a stronger alternative to Drive-by Argument. And that’s not bad at all.

Their only mistake was to be followed by Work. If unfamiliar with the London four-piece, Work play intelligent indie-rock with hints of everything and nothing. To the untrained ear they’d be pigeon-holed in the unfortunate Keane, Snow Patrol and Coldplay Bermuda triangle of marketable music for middle-class thirty-something professionals to cry to in between divorces and jump for joy with come promotion time. The truth is they’re more intimate and poignant, yet far louder and more powerful than those acts. In a word, they’re superb.

These attributes may come from a masterful understanding of this kind of music – from well timed build-ups to perfectly prolonged melodies, they’re able to draw the listener in with delicate piano work and sweep them away through thunderous drumming and soaring vocals.

With a fourth member on guitar to add muscle to their set, they started with an accomplished jamming session which led neatly into the excellent ‘Puzzle Pieces’ – a song that epitomises the Work sound – cultured, piano (rather than synth)-led indie of the highest order complete with Thom Yorke style intimacy, an Interpol feel of technical rhythm, and a powerful crescendo which makes drummer Martin Moore sound like a thousand Nordic Hammer Gods compared to the barely adequate Will Champion. Their organic feel hasn’t been compromised by the addition of the guitar, which bolstered the loud parts of their music as expected but also supplemented their quieter moments by staying firmly in the background.

Perera’s vocals hit the sweet spot of sounding like he’s saying something important without being pretentious. His younger brother fared well on guitar, and David Harvey was sonorous, stage-filling and splendid. Dedicating the future hit ‘Brave’ to Metallica was a nice piece of banter in a set that’s only fault was that it was too short. Yet another tremendous performance by Work who were, even with the calibre of the others following them, the best band of the night.

That’s not to say the Last Republic were poor. This waistcoated five-piece specialise in indie-pop with an epic feel. Essentially they’re the Killers for serious people – with every track sounding like the Bravery’s best song. With piano, soaring and soulful vocals, and ‘rocking out’ moments, they had all the ingredients of Work, but were a little simpler and more predictable. They may sound more marketable, but that’s never a sign of quality (usually quite the reverse).

What they are is consistent and tidy. They slow the tempo down cleverly and always develop their songs interestingly enough to keep the listener paying attention. While the riffs draw influence from the likes of Maximo Park and Editors, the soul of their work has shades of acts like Radiohead and latter-day Silverchair. They’re a very good band, and so it’s no surprise that what they have in common with other good bands of their ilk is a fantastic lead singer, who has the stage presence and voice not only to carry off their style but also add some much needed gravitas. Why much needed? Because they’re good but boy do they know it. The air of conceit stunk the place up at times, but thankfully never overshadowed the music itself. They got the crowd clapping and pulled off a nice trick with a speakerphone and a guitar to embellish a thoroughly enjoyable set.

But the main event was a Rumble in the Jungle affair compared to the Amir Khan bouts beforehand. The Indelicates are already a band with an identity in most indie followers’ minds. With the music media waxing lyrical about them being the next big thing, the place was packed with hardcore fans ready to gorge on their political pop.

And they delivered an excellent set – great performances all round with some humorous dialogue between the two main Indelicates, Simon and Julia. They’re catchy, appealing, and have stage presence. They’re also self-important and pretentious to the point of vomit, but they’re very good. In parts.

Their current catalogue consists of folk-inspired singer-songwriter songs with piano, competent guitar work, some orchestral instruments (as is the norm when trying to make a pop song all serious and emotional), and some extras like flute when needed. The ‘eclecticism’ many people claim to hear within their material is nonexistent – unless you call rudimentary ‘turn up the volume’ bollix eclectic. Clearly these people haven’t heard of Opeth or even the Mars Volta.

But it doesn’t matter – they’re not as consistent as a lot of people say, but when they get it right they hit the very heights of folklorian (it’s a word – well it is now) indie – songs in the calibre of the Libertines et al. Tracks like ‘America’ are memorable, topical and above all catchy pieces that could pierce a lot of mental barriers and make people who don’t read the better papers think more about politics.

They’re a talented bunch all together, but they’re made unique by Julia Clark-Lowes – sorry ‘Julia Indelicate’ – that woman what left the Pipettes. Her voice is superb and unique, her singing melancholy yet bright, her stage presence (and for once not because she’s a woman and pretty and stuff) catches the eye and glues it to her. Essentially, they’d be the Lightning Seeds singing Pogues songs without her.

But one of their biggest problems – partly theirs, partly the media painting them in this way – is the political content of a lot of their songs. Well meaning it may be, but it’s hard to imagine anybody other than easily-led teens thinking their stuff is clever or politically astute. And yet there were people of various ages at the Metro - all fans of theirs. Maybe the Indelicates are striking a chord I’m not feeling, but a bunch of middle-class ‘revolutionaries’ spouting naive ‘for the people’ platitudes is hardly the stuff of Palast or Chomsky. It is amusing though, and the fact they take themselves so seriously is an added mirthy (now also a word) bonus.

But who cares – there are too many bands out there who just want to have fun. It’s about time a band popped up that combined political and social issues with good music. Much like the Jam did. Or Bananarama*. And what’s important is that their final product shows a band of real quality performing well and already sounding like an NME mainstay.

They rounded off a majestic evening at the metro that could’ve been made perfect had there been access to hard drugs and a foam party at the end. But you can’t have everything. Oh well. I’m off to hire some more octogenarians for the brothe-err, care homes I run for the elderly. They die out so quickly in the winter times you get a worse staff turnover rate than a call centre. Until next time,

Muhammad ‘Big Pimpin’ Odeh

*-In no way are they as good as the Jam, so I had to compare them with a much worse act to even out the review.