While record stores, youth radio and music television are inundated by the Indie Invasion of the 00s, Icecream Hands have unfortunately missed the wave. This Melbourne quartet have released some of the finest melodies of recent times, but have gone criminally unnoticed. It’s all critical acclaim but commercial failure. Lead singer Charles Jenkins even suffers the ignominy of working in a suburban record store, selling pap whilst his tunes remain unloved on the shelves. But why? As always with such unappreciated bands, the music has everything—and absolutely nothing—to do with their obscurity.

Reason One: It’s unusual

You missed a button
I saw a nipple…
And it’s true
A cold shower was overdue

This is not the stuff of torrid seduction or passionate romance. It’s what you would expect from the stammering idiot within each of us. The undertone of desperate (sexual) frustration in “Nipple” is familiar to most. The entire conceit could be enough to turn the song into a mere novelty, but it’s actually a sweet love song. The juxtaposition of the lewd with the chaste (“You can fly my bike”) is compelling. You’d expect some sleazy blues, but instead there’s understated guitar lines which sound as shy as the song’s protagonist.

Reason Two: It’s ambitious

No matter how much writers piss into the wind, 90% of the time we’re dealing with straight-up pop/rock. It’s just three minutes of verse-chorus-verse. Sometimes the muso might be a little bit sassy and throw in a jazz chord or change into waltz time, but the formula remains. This is no criticism—it’s actually a virtue. With conciseness comes tremendous potency. Sometimes.

Then again, there’s nothing wrong with challenging yourself. It’s possible to do great things within constraints. Da Vinci painted on canvas, after all.

“Beautiful Fields” is a triumph of pop orchestration that starts off with a simple ostinato and warm strumming. Icecream Hands build the arrangement expertly, adding another guitar and mellotron, until the song blossoms into wonderful brass fanfare. Sure, it might have you reaching for your George Martin/Sgt Pepper’s playbook, but I’d be taking notes. And quickly too—you’ve only got three minutes.

Reason Three: It’s sung like they mean it

The shoegazer ethic may try to position itself as disaffected cool—“hey man all I do is play guitar ‘n’ shit”—but this is all subterfuge. The reality is that these indie kids just don’t have the guts to put it on the line. These musos have thoughts and feelings, prime fodder for their music, but it’s so much safer to keep it inside. Unfortunately, such emotional cynicism has won favor—nowadays you see songs written with a disturbing hollowness.

“Rain Hail Shine” is remarkable for its sincerity. Jenkins’s directness is striking—“rain, hail, shine, I’ll be there for you all the time.” Much of the song’s appeal lies herein. It’s not romantic—Hallmark won’t be cribbing the lines—but the sentiment is real. And powerful.

Douglas Lee Robertson gets fantastic tone out of his bass, at times playing like a lead instrument. Descending chords, droning guitars, four-square percussion tug at your ears. Fittingly, the music is rock solid, but understated. There’s no need to hide behind insincerity. Icecream Hands show that if you melt the icy façade, wonderful things can happen.

[buy stuff here]