My Problem with… Indoor Pets

Once upon a time, whilst looking after his teenage daughter at Reading Festival, my uncle Roger was told to “go home” because he was “too old” to be there. His age wasn’t his fault but Sum 41 and age 41 didn’t add up in the eyes of one particular young lady that afternoon.

Today, when I listen to Indoor Pets, I simultaneously feel like both the uncle and the teenage girl.

I first saw these scallywags as ‘Get Inuit’, supporting The Big Moon a couple of years ago at Ramsgate Music Hall. After a name change and a deal with Wichita, their first album is set for release next month. One song I particularly remember from seeing them live is ‘Pro Procrastinator’:

Yes, the video is tongue in cheek, just a bit of fun, and all that; but it doesn’t take a genius to figure that this is a band that are most likely going to reverberate with teenyboppers and drunk uni students. At best it may soundtrack Made In Chelsea; and when that’s the best, it’s usually a sign for miserable old bastards like me to steer well clear.

It’s not just “I’m wasting my life”, it’s “I love being strange, … where are all the other freaks?”, it’s “I’ll never get that ‘Hi’”. But those hooks… they’re just too good to resist. I’m the dieting chubster; they’re the bacon sandwich. I’m the married man; they’re the new receptionist at work. I’m Homer Simpson; they’re the forbidden donut.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt old when liking new music before. That feels like an odd concept. So often when I hear bands that remind me of those I listened to as a teenager – in this case: The Cribs, Ash, Weezer, etc. – I write them off as copycats or poor impressions of the same old shtick, but it’s a credit to the quality of Indoor Pets that their music appeals to me and seems to offer something a little different.

A trend of upbeat choruses and edgier Cribs-esque middle 8s are somewhat formulaic, but it’s a clever mix. You can definitely see how they will grow up alongside their burgeoning fan base over the coming years. It’s not gonna be wanking dinosaurs forever.

I’m intrigued to hear how consistent their debut album Be Content will manage to be. I’ve pre-ordered the album, but I avoided the ticket bundles. At 30, I wonder if an Indoor Pets gig would already see me creeping towards my first ‘uncle Roger treatment’. And that’s not an attractive-sounding sentence in any sense…

So, my problem with Indoor Pets is ultimately me. I can blame them for writing great songs but it’s more my apparent fear of being chastised by a pissed-up sixteen-year-old girl in a field in Berkshire that categorises them as much as a guilty pleasure as just another band I’m in to. While I’m nowhere near old enough to be frontman Jamie Glass’ dad – even by today’s standards – I’m already old enough to be jealous of the amount of hair he has, and I’m disgustingly jealous of his ability to write dem hooks doeee. (cn I be young still pls?).