The Indelicates, Miles Hunt
Miss Fliss 11/12/2008
Sometimes it takes a couple of goes before a band not only start to make sense musically but stir true resonance in you. It's certainly been the case for me with The Indelicates whom have grown in my fondness tremendously.
What struck me most tonight is how far and beyond the small gig circuit the band sound. With a guitarist that exudes so much effort it becomes literal in the sweat he coats his guitar and his band mate's keys with (something I've not seen in all my many years of gig going), you have some mighty dedication at work. Indeed, there are moments on record and live where the band have stadium-like guitar tendencies - it's not just in the Judas Priest cover version, which, by the way, I find genuine and worthy rather than ironic and comedic, this is real talent as well as passion and showmanship.
Since this was a Christmas gig, The Indelicates reeled off another cover version, an equally rousing rendering of The Pogues' Fairytale of New York, and the lyrical mistakes made it all the more fun.
It's always clear that there is never enough time when The Indelicates play. Just as the crowd is warming up and getting invigorated, you hear the cutting cry of 'Time's up'. So it was a rushed rendition of the politically brilliant Our Daughters Will Never Be Free (the lyrics of which every astute human being ought to look up) which closed the set. As such, for a second time in my recent experience, half a dozen of amazing songs got neglected. It felt like the gig consisted primarily of the lengthy tracks which pad the band's debut album out rather than the ones that act as its pivotal more succinct driving forces. Only two of the five kinetically and melodically best songs in the band's canon got a look-in, the rest were shunned, which was pretty criminal, almost as if they were considered the 'hits' elements - albeit without going anywhere near the Charts - and thus too 'obvious' to air. So we craved and did not hear the tin whistle delight of Julia, We Don't Live in the 60s, the wise but pleasnatly rocking nod of Better to Know, and Sixteen's immediate pop rush thrill.
As soon as the band got off stage, we collared them to buy a copy of the album, and it's amazing how much more the songs come together and stand up in the literary sense, when you are faced with verses laid out on a song sheet. In that smack bang moment, I realised the extent to which The Indelicates are meaningful. Not only in these times destitute of decent alternative culture do the band bring back the notion of songwriting craft , but they also cause a sensation in the mind with the strength of their intelligent nuances. I could not celebrate them more.
Photography: Miss Fliss