Credit: Found On Internet

The scariest thing about this record, is that I could quite easily put it on in the background at my parents, who, bless ‘em, are more of a Classic FM pair of music listeners, and they’d probably find it endlessly pleasant. If they actually paused to listen to the lyrics, they’d be destroyed.

This record is vicious. It sits in the corner of the pub, performing character assassinations on you and all you hold dear. And you let it get away with it because it is beautiful.

Formed by the pairing of Simon Clayton and founder of and ex-member of The Pipettes, Julia Clark-Lowes, the lyrics of The Indelicates have a devilish wicked streak hidden behind their effortlessly delectable melodies. Combined with a genuine lack of fear in intellectualism – no matter what the majority of bands might like to think, most of them play at smarts, rather than indulging in it - something you don’t often see this side of Morrissey. It’ not an easy record to review – with tracks like 'The Last Significant Satement To Be Made In Rock'n'Roll', The Indelicates want to tear down the myth of rock’n’roll and pop the illusion of…erm…pop, all of which are veils and substance that journos seek to create. What's that old Lester Bangs quote? "Writing about music is like dancing about architecture". The Indelicates have got our number. They've got everyone's.

‘Sixteen’ is every adult criticism of the Skins­-cultural zeitgeist rolled-up and spat back in its face. “Oh, oh, it’d be so funny…” is mockingly sung with saccharine sweetness by Julia Clark-Lowes, turning scorn on the notion that idiocy and outrage are acceptable, or even desirable if one pours enough irony onto them. It’s not just the vapidity of the kids (also lambasted in ‘We Hate the Kids’), but the very scene that sustains such idiocy is under attack: “This scene is the scene to be seen in, not that the scene is what we’d be seen with, we just wanna be sixteen, sixteen, even though we’re twenty three…”

The superb video for ‘Sixteen’:

There’s no sacred cow free from their scrutiny – ‘If Jeff Buckley Had Lived’ dissects the man himself, as well as articulating the grating nature of the myth-makers who venerate dead musicians to a degree of concise precision that most of us would have trouble doing without the added criteria of making a fantastic song out of it.