*note to self, try and avoid use of the word ‘triumphant’…* (spoiler alert)
Wikipedia describes Bristol’s Queen Square as a magnificent Georgian public space surrounded by high quality commercial accommodation. Whilst the surroundings now seems the epitome of gentility, this is a place steeped in a history of riot and revolution. Fitting, then, that Idles should choose this space to hold two celebratory Block Parties, the band’s only headlining shows of the year.
There’s no mistaking that this is a weekend when the political stands front and centre.
After an introductory DJ set consisting of songs by women-fronted bands, there’s an appeal for donations to MAP (Medical Aid for Palestinians).
Then a joyful, riotous opening set from Lambrini Girls. With the sounds of Big Dick Energy and TERF Wars bouncing off the Bath stone facades, it’s a tight seven-song set that shows the humour at the heart of their activism.
Soft Play are still a mass of contradictions. There’s a perceived aggression (not far) beneath the surface of a band that bring together their fans for both a singalong of Bin Juice Disaster whilst tempering it with a tender mandolin-infused Everything and Nothing.
Dig even deeper though, and you’ll find a duo that-as they readily admit-have graduated from playing to six people at Bristol’s ‘Mother’s Ruin’ to hanging out with Robbie Williams and entertaining the notion of supporting Blur at Wembley. Moshpits with 14,000 people always work better than with six, though.
And so to Idles. The anti-Oasis. Is there a more engaging, nuanced and passionate frontman than Joe Talbot around right now?
But this is a band so much greater than the sum of its parts, with 20 songs spread across an hour and three-quarters, and a feeling of Talbot exorcising demons.
He casually threw in where in the Square he’d experienced a psychotic breakdown, as well as referencing past habits and where he’d indulged in them-an alternative Bristol geography.
With Joy As An Act Of Resistance seeming like the mantra for the weekend, they opened with Colossus, and Talbot demanding that the audience split down the middle, before entreating them to come together in a ecstatic mosh. Benzocaine is accompanied by the crowd spinning and Talbot referencing Noel Harrison, Kylie and Dead or Alive.
The set is a broad split across all five albums and culminates in a brilliant trilogy of Dancer, Danny Nedelko and Rottweiler-helped out with an extra guitarist plucked from the audience (Aidan from Ireland duly got his own chant in thanks).
This was a summer evening that was honest, cathartic and political, with a band that rejoices in celebrating difference and standing up for the underdog. Exactly the type of band that we need right now.
And yes, it was triumphant.
By Sam Gray


