IDLES’ hands do Devil’s work: Bristolian punks appease the Apollo
Words by Rachel Zanetti
It’s a scene straight from the old testament: a man parting a vast sea. In the place of Moses, Joe Talbot, in the place of the red sea, his audience. The two groups face one another across the chasm, simmering over on the front lines. On cue with the second half of ‘Colossus’, the two halves crash together in a wall of death, an IDLES staple. Guitarist Lee Keirnan is already down at the barrier, clambering onto the countless hands waiting to raise and hold him up. They pass Keirnan from one to the next; he plays and the guitar cord is expertly manoeuvred in his wake.
The Bristolian band returned to Manchester for 3 nights at the O2 Apollo. They released their fifth studio album; Tangk, on the 16th of February this year, the opening song of the album also opens the set. ‘IDEA 01’ is brief and hymnal. In an interview with Paper, Talbot says “I came in a lot softer and with grace because I forgave myself,” on the subject of moving personally and musically from anger to love.
In the interlude after ‘Car Crash’, Talbot orders the crowd to drop down to the floor. They oblige and crouch low, he announces that he will be singing the new national anthem for Great Britain; “Fuck the King” he bellows into the space above the mat of people. The crowd roars this anthem back to him and the entire venue is alive with the signature IDLES republican sentiment. Talbot draws the chant to a close, introduces ‘I’m Scum’, and the crowd scramble to dance.
The band plays ‘Roy’, and the whole theatre becomes a living organism. The pulse of the body is the crashing of Jon Beavis‘ drums – the crowd swell and crash rhythmically, as if a heart beats inside the red-walled ribcage of The O2 Apollo.
“I danced ‘til my feet bled, I’m never gonna die”.
Bowen and Keirnan appear in the crowd, Bowen plays his guitar with his mouth and both of them drag strangers in to dance. They manipulate the pit to form a ring around them and start running anticlockwise, the movement radiates outwards and soon the dancefloor becomes a vortex around the guitarists.
Their fourth studio album, Crawler is an introspection on addiction and healing. ‘The Wheel’ is an explosive ballad about the cycle of alcoholism, specifically in reference to Talbots’ mother. IDLES have a knack for creating tangibly joyful music that often comes from a place of intense grief and anger. Before they play ‘The Wheel’, Talbot thanks the NHS and again condemns the Tory party.
As ‘Never Fight A Man With A Perm’ rings out, Bowen invades the crowd and is lifted, still standing, still playing, appearing above the people like a prophet in a beautiful blue dress. Each song is a performance of equal participation, with the band members crowd surfing as much as the audience, with Talbot stalking the stage, beating his chest with his fist.
Before their final song Talbot slowly begins to sing ‘Love Will Tear Us Apart’ and the audience quickly catch on, soon sounding like a heartfelt football chant. This is rapidly replaced by a rendition of Mariah Careys’ ‘All I Want For Christmas’ which brings laughter and cheers.
As always, they finish with ‘Rottweiler’, another antifascist anthem. The pit reopens and the perimeter braces themselves for a final time. Sweaty faces grimace at each other from opposite sides but few look ready for the show to end as they race into the centre.
It’s difficult to leave an IDLES gig without feeling slightly proud: of yourself for making it out in one piece, and of the community that reveals itself at the command of a sweaty pink-haired man. It is undeniable that they are earning their title as one of the biggest punk-rock bands that the UK has seen, and a formidable live performance to go with it.