A night of punk and love with IDLES at The Fillmore

Before even walking through the doors of The Fillmore, my friend and I turned the corner to stumble on no other than Danni Miller, lead singer of Surfbort, freshly off stage and finishing a drag in a sequined jumpsuit. Her punk, piss-off vibes welcomed us into the venue for an unforgettable performance by IDLES. 

For those of you less familiar with IDLES, they’re an English band from Bristol whose musicality is rooted in nothing short of anger and frustration. Their songs provide commentary for all that is wrong with society, exploring topics such as toxic masculinity and its nature of producing frustrated men with muffled emotions. IDLES firmly rejects the title of a punk band, but it’s difficult to deem them as anything else when their music is driven by such resentment in a hardcore manner. 

As IDLES took the stage, Joe Talbot (lead vocals) posted himself at center stage with one leg propped on an amp and predatory eyes set on the crowd. Behind him was a rolling drumbeat of anticipation from the track “Colossus” as the rest of the band awaited his cue. He was in no rush as he evaluated the crowd, patiently swinging the mic in hand, as if determining if we were ready for what he was about to throw at us. As the music was building, the floor was shaking as everyone prepared to pounce the moment the music began. 

I’ve moshed at many shows, but this was one of the few where I found myself being kicked in the head with a smile on my face. Within all of the sweat and thrashing, there was unity in that crowd crafted by the energy emanating from the band. I’d like to give a special thanks to the guy in the pit who selflessly offered to lift me up to crowd surf, not once but twice. This energy was kept alive as IDLES followed with all of the best of their most recent album, Joy as an Act of Resistance (2018), like “Never Fight a Man With a Perm,” “Samaritans,” and “Danny Nedelko.” This tour has been following that album’s release, but they still played many of their older gems, such as  “Date Night” and “Mother” off of Brutalism (2017). 

Not all of the night’s spirit came from Talbot alone; the rest of the band matched his energy with their dancing and repetitive crowd surfing. Mark Bowen (lead guitar) took every opportunity to leap into the crowd and surf atop our heads, as Lee Kiernan (rhythm guitar) jumped into the pit, continuing to play as he was thrashed around. If there’s one moment from that night for me to hold dearly forever, it would be holding hands with Bowen as he surfed over my head in nothing but Calvin Klein briefs. Hey People Magazine, if you’re listening, I’d like to nominate Bowen for your 2019 Sexiest Man Alive award. 

The show was made truly personal by all of the commentaries from Talbot on topics like sobriety, life mistakes, Tinder, and even his own mother. Preluding “1049 Gotho” off of Brutalism, he took a moment to talk about depression. He discussed an experience of a friend opening up to him about all of the pain he was experiencing. Talbot noted that anyone having a similar feeling is not alone in this world, and with the courage and bravery to talk about it, it just may save a life. 

There was no ignoring the love on stage between the band members. If it wasn’t apparent in their dancing together, it was when Bowen and Talbot shared a mic closely enough to kiss as they sang a cover of “Cry to Me” by Solomon Burke. Talbot told the crowd that he had been a piece of shit twelve years ago and still is today, but now he’s able to be one alongside the rest of the band. He clarified that being a piece of shit is, in fact, a beautiful thing and that our support as an audience is what allows them to all be one. 

For the very last song, Danni Miller came on to scream into the mic and crowd surf one last time with the rest of the band. There was no encore, but rather a very natural sense of euphoria in the air after the amazing performance. IDLES had left everyone so satisfied with the night that we were able to walk out sweaty and smiling, without a single complaint. 

Article and Photos by Natalie Gott