The derogatory term “landfill indie” was coined by some wag to describe the mountain of interchangeable white-boy guitar bands that have swamped the charts over the past few years.

As bland and plastic as an empty bottle of milk, these Wombats and Pigeon Detectives may have started as old school friends but have been shaped and formed by record companies the way Captain Birdseye makes fish fingers.

It’s been said that The Enemy deserve to be thrown on this big pile of rubbish.

But that’s not entirely fair – The Enemy aren’t really indie.

Instead the Coventry three-piece are five-eighths glam rock (without the glam), two-eighths Big Country and, during perhaps their best tune We’ll Live And Die In These Towns, one-eighth an above-average Paul Weller tribute band.

Still riding high on a successful debut album, The Enemy played to a packed house and there is no denying the crowd lapped up every “woo-wah-woo” of their Kaiser Chiefs-aping choruses.

However, while the drums, bass and lead guitar lines bristled with energy, nothing sparked off the stage.

More annoyingly, for a few newer songs you could spot a keyboard player hiding in the shadows.

It does seem to be a pattern among modern bands to treat these extra members like the disfigured stepchild of an aristocratic family.

They may be on a wage but they’re still part of the band. Denying them their share of the spotlight isn’t right, especially when – on this evidence at least – The Enemy need all the friends they can get.