Indoor Pets
-DEAF INSTITUTE, MANCHESTER-
Indoor Pets, formally known as Get Inuit, put on an energetic and loving display at Manchester’s Deaf Institute proving it doesn’t really matter what your band is called. If the tunes come from a place of sincerity and passion you’re onto a winner.
But first, there were two top notch performances from Gaffa Tape Sandy and Peaness to warm the young crowd up. Now, I know it’s lazy to compare bands to others like they were spawn from the same musical ballbag, however Chester’s Peaness did conjure images in my mind of Blackened Sky-era Biffy Clyro getting all rhythmic with Sleater-Kinney under the sheets. Alas, their ditties were pretty and got numerous audience members in the mood for a jig, thus, I’m looking forward to hearing – and seeing – more of them in the future.
Now, for the headline act, Indoor Pets. Hailing from Kent, this four piece have had some testing times recently. Although I would like to go on about how baffling it is that they had to change their name – similar to the Viet Cong incident, who are now known as Preoccupations – it’s not important right now. What’s important is how bloody brilliant Indoor Pets are, their efforts and passion mirrored in the admiration and applause of the tightly bunched contingent.
Now I’m going to be honest, before this set, I hadn’t a fucking clue who they were. I’d heard of Get Inuit, although not indulging in their music, but Indoor Pets left me scratching my head and bollocks vigorously. I’m delighted to say however they’ve gained another fan in me. On their SoundCloud page they describe their music as ‘dirty surf’, which is fair enough, but for me their sound is more akin to the soft emo/kerrangish vibe you used to find when all you used to listen to was pop punk. That’s not necessarily a bad thing.
From my experience, too often people who didn’t whack kerrang on the tele and rock out to Blink 182, Bowling for Soup and Bullet for My Valentine (accidental alliteration there), have too much to say about the scene/genres involved. Labelling anyone who likes a bit of pop punk, or remotely anything not within the vein of laddy bands like Arctic Monkeys, The Courteeners and The Enemy, is frankly a fucking cunt. Bands like Indoor Pets clearly engage people and have the decency to perform on stage without a care in the world, not afraid to look a bit daft or over the top. This is very much unlike the frontmen of ‘lad’ bands mentioned earlier, in particular Turner and Fray who play guitar like they have bamboo shoots up their arse (whatever the fuck that means).
Anyway, playing Get Inuit and Indoor Pets songs, such as the electrifying ‘All My Friends’, the foursome turns one of Manchester’s best venues into a fucking sauna. I wouldn’t have been surprised if halfway through the set a few middle-aged bald fellas with beer bellies like your Uncle Jerry, wandered in from the roof terrace and right through the crowd in little white towels and black sliders. However, my fantasies will have to be put on hold for this group are really making a great impression on me. They possess an energy and attitude similar to Beach Slang, and at times I think they go even harder. Jamie, Ollie, James and Rob play with a great intensity, never letting up as they whittle through tracks such as ‘Mean Heart’, ‘Teriyaki’ and ‘I Am the Hot Air’, with their selection of covers, by the way, also being on point. Playing Aretha Franklin’s classic ‘I Say a Little Prayer’ (1968), it sounds like it could have been penned by Indoor Pets themselves as their pop sensibilities and ability to write a catchy, anthemic song are evident in most of their renditions tonight.
With the announcement of a couple more songs, usually meaning no encore, the lads pull out the big guns with ‘Barbiturates’ and ‘Pro Procrastinator’, which both appear to receive the biggest reaction both vocally and physically as the crowd below smash into each other at great speed and risk. I’m surprised no one has been hurt tonight, from my perch at the back of the room – because despite being only 22 my back is absolutely knackered – I have witnessed none stop moshing and the creation of circle pits, even during the slower numbers. And it’s with these final two tunes, which has the Deaf Institute floor vibrating like something in your mother’s knicker draw, that signals the end of this short yet enthralling experience. Fair play to Indoor Pets for getting back on the road and performing these well-crafted, high energy punk rock songs about being young, in love and dumb. The confetti at the end too, although nothing like Flaming Lip’s shows, was also a nice touch; time to sod off now. Cheers!
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Liverpool born music writer with passion for punk and Everton FC
