Idles

Every now and then something comes along that seems to encapsulate what you think and feel about the world, communicating it in a way you never could. I’ve always felt it about Daniel Kitson, a comedian, that I’m off to see next week; and Smiths-era Morrissey, whose lyrics challenged homophobia and monarchy at a time when people only accepted one queen. Over Christmas I read the end of year culture lists, realising I hadn’t heard or seen many of the things, so set about investigating the ones that piqued my interest.

Idles’ ‘Joy as an act of Resistance’ seemed a compelling prospect. In a review I read the words ‘angry’ and ‘lyrical’ which was music to my ears. I’ve always been a lyrics man. In every Pulp record from the Freaks LP, Jarvis Cocker included the instructions, ‘Please do not read the lyrics whilst listening to the recording’ – this is what I do. Of course, I love the music: the riffs, hooks, beats and drops, but what I adore more than anything is the words. I can forgive a lack of musicianship if the lyrics speak to me. I can appreciate a symphony, yet it’s the words that truly ensnare me.

 

Jarvis is right on most things, but not his lyric advice.

 

As for the angry part, I felt angry as a teenager – mainly towards myself for being inept with women. And if I’m totally honest, angry at them for rejecting me- despite me never asking them out. Morrissey syndrome I call it. In my late teens, early 20’s, I mainly listened The Clash, watched a lot of Bill Hicks and read plays by Angry Young Men. Older the anger has changed. I’m angry that education has become a part of the job market where subjects have salaries attached to them (‘What job will my child get from doing English?’ we hear parents ask.) I’m angry over online discourse that has become so hateful, so gladiatorial, taking contentious topics and bare knuckling them into Twitter fist fights. I’m angry over politicians that pit people against one another: there were even some members of the public who couldn’t side with junior doctors over the government because strike action inconvenienced them. The security of love has mellowed me somewhat, but I’ll always have an itch I’ll never quite scratch.

All of this brings me to Idles. Before buying the album, I heard the song ‘Samaritans’ and it blew my mind. The title comes from the charity that do outstanding work in preventing suicide – male suicide in particular. The fact so many men get to this point has to be down to corrosive masculinity. Undoubtedly women have it a lot harder than men. It’s indisputable that men have the unfair advantage. The only area where men are at a disadvantage is in communicating their problems. Lead singer Joe Talbot is acutely aware of this. During the recording of his first album, his mother died; during the making of his second one, his daughter died.

 

‘Samaritan’ is a savage takedown of masculinity. It begins with Talbot barking out the unhelpful instructions every young man has heard.

       Man up
Sit down
Chin up
Pipe down
Socks up
Don’t cry
Drink up
Just lie
Grow some balls, he said

            Grow some balls

In some households boys can’t express sadness. Emotion is a weakness that won’t be tolerated. The crackle of grief and disappointment can never burn out because feelings have to be hidden, consequently they’re quickly doused by gendered sentiments. If men are going against their instincts to cry out pain, they will only be worse for it later. So despite having masculine thrashing guitars, the lyrics are anything but. Towards the end, Talbot leaves the tragedy whilst guitarists Kiernan and Bowen write the catharsis. When Talbot returns to scream, ‘I kissed a boy and I liked it,’ the battle is won. We return to the refrain of ‘Sit down,’ ‘chin up,’ even more aware of how ridiculous they sound. For a man who has never bought into masculinity but still has the receipts, I loved hearing the topic addressed in such an impassioned way.

Having now listened to the whole album, I’m pleased to announce that there are other tunes which combine visceral thrills and cerebral smarts to great effect. ‘I’m Scum’ comes across a lock-in at a Labour Club with Talbot spitballing like a smart, smashed drunk,

‘I sing at Fascists ‘til my head comes off, I am Dennis Skinner’s Molotov, I’m lefty, I’m soft, I’m minimum wage.’   

 

Another tune ‘Danny Nedelko,’ is a celebration of immigration. The eponymous is a friend of the band and plays in Heavy Lungs, he and Talbot have such a close kinship that they both vowed to write about each other. The lyrics of ‘My blood brother is an immigrant, A beautiful immigrant, My blood brother’s Freddie Mercury, A Nigerian mother of three,’ is a reminder of the richness of diversity. Danny Nedelko is the title, but the song also references Malala, Freddie Mercury, Mo Farah as well as the Polish butcher and Nigerian mother. If you’re going to celebrate famous immigrants (as all Brits do), then you should be championing unheralded ones too. The climatic yelps of ‘yeah, yeah, yeah’ are a middle finger to politicians that divide us.

 

Later on the album ‘Great’ addresses Brexit. It is Idles’ farewell song to Britain. The referendum has reduced it to ruins, leaving the band to dance on its grave. More than Britain separating from the EU, it’s about Great Britain separating from its title, leaving us without the Great. Again, the lyrics are astounding, featuring the hilarious kiss-off, ‘Islam didn’t eat your hamster.’ In the middle I’m sure there’s the first few bars of ‘God Save The Queen,’ a wry comment on how nationalism brought us and May to our knees.

The centerpiece of the album is ‘June.’ The song addresses a topic rarely addressed in music: the death of a child. Here, the guitars are turned down, giving Talbot the space to express himself. Much of the album is a frenetic blast, blending Grinderman menace and Ramones turbo-charge, ‘June’ though is a contemplative ballad. It’s a cry for understanding. ‘A still born was still born, I am a father.’ The use of tense is powerful. Just because a child has died doesn’t mean a mother and father don’t continue to carry its weight. Later, Talbot intones, ‘Baby shoes never worn: For Sale.’ This was the six-word story Hemmingway wrote on the back of a beer mat for a bet. The fact his tale has endured is because it distils pain in its purest form.

Idles have produced a record that will make you laugh, think cry, shout and dance. They are a band of head, heart, lungs and spleen. They have inherited the mantle of Angry Young Men from Osborne and his ilk and done something thrilling and vibrant with it. I’m off now to listen to their first record.

Idles' 'Joy is an Act of Resistance' is out now.

Bros: After The Screaming Stops

 

Terry Wogan: What are you going to do when the screaming stops?
(Interview with Bros, 1988)

 In 1988 Bros were the biggest boy band in the Britain. Their debut album ‘Push’ topped the chart in seventeen countries, selling more than seven million copies. Supported by an army of followers, ‘the Brosettes,’ they were the youngest group to sell out Wembley Stadium. They were on cloud nine. Nineteen-year-old lads travelling the world, being heralded as pop's new messiahs wherever they went. Then with their guitarist quitting due to illness, Bros became a duo: a fraternal concern. When sales of their third record dwindled, Luke decided to call it a day, ending their partnership, disbanding the group. Twenty-eight years on, the boys are back in town for a reunion concert, their first time playing together since 1990.

The directors Joe Pearlman and David Soutar’s film begins with a prologue that hints at the carnage to come. The pair are booked onto This Morning to promote their upcoming show, however backstage all is not well. It appears that over the years one type of screaming (fan adulation) has given way to another (sibling acrimony), so much so that the green room has turned blue under a storm of expletive. Matt storms out, the door slam an arch segue into the upbeat title sequence. (When will I, will I be famous? I can't answer, I can't answer that.')

We then flashback to a time before reunion promo where we join the bros in their new life. Luke is now living in LA, starring in and writing movies. Notable IMDB credits include Blade 2 and Hellboy 2. (Recent films are suffixed with ‘Straight to DVD’). Matt too is in America, but he’s residing in Las Vegas. A friend of mine went to Vegas with his wife a few years ago and said how impressive Goss’ show was; this is supported in the documentary where we hear a Caesars Palace booker purr over his talent. The demand of performing show after show in one place has driven many performers mad, yet Goss seems to be thriving there.

Matt performs swing and jazz tunes.

All of this makes us wonder why Matt wants to reunite. I mean the man has it all. He has a plush apartment with money to burn. All his whims and fancies are catered for. If he wants a painting of his bulldog holding a pint, he’ll commission it. If he doesn’t want an argument, he won’t have it. (His home he explains is a no argument zone.) If people want to blow off a bit of steam: fine. Break something if you want. Just make sure you fix it afterwards. All of these pronouncements are cut and chopped together, so much so that the cumulative effect produces an avalanche of hilarity that we’re soon buried under. In observing Matt Goss you can’t help but see parallels with This Is Spinal Tap. Like Nigel Tufnel, Matt lacks a level of awareness that makes him at times stupid, whilst being completely endearing.

This is real.

In my favourite scene Matt and Luke are back in London reminiscing on their childhood. There wasn’t much money in the family home. Toys and gifts were hard to come by. They did have one though: a dart. They didn’t have a dartboard to go with it, but who needs a target when you’ve got an imagination. The game they played involved throwing a dart in the air and moving out of the way before they got hit. Unfortunately, one day one of them did get hit, causing them to run to their grandad to get the dart pulled out. With the thorn pulled from the paw, the young cubs were free to roam again, chucking the dart up into the skies, ignoring the past accident, giddy on the roulette risk of it all. At the denouement of the anecdote, Matt turns to camera and says,

“And now you can’t even play fucking conkers in England. Please can we start a petition as Bros for this ridiculous thing where you can’t even play conkers, you have to wear goggles. That is the biggest problem…You can’t play conkers in England.”

 

When I heard this I had to pinch myself and think 'is this real?' The backdrop of the estate, the unselfconscious talk, the impassioned delivery, all reminded me of This Country. Even better is Luke’s deadpan reaction, ‘I can live with that.’ Bros can’t even agree on conker regulation, how on earth are they going to play together?

Popstar shades on council estates.

 

The rehearsals for the reunion gig are fraught. Luke is nervous because he hasn’t played drums in years. Not only does he have to re-learn his instrument, he has to re-learn it for a gig at the 02. Also, he’s trepidatious because the last time he was in Bros he felt like a bit part player. His brother was the mouthpiece, spotlight and cover star – this time he wants it to be different. He wants an equal say in the direction of the gig. The problem for Matt is music is his business. He now knows more than his brother, which means treating him as his equal proves difficult. Here the documentary breaks away from being a satire on popstars and becomes a sincere examination of sibling rivalry.

The brothers are ridiculous – Matt, in particular – yet beyond their 2D buffoonery is something deeper and more profound. At the height of their fame they experienced personal tragedy, something, given the demands of touring and promotion, they never had time to process. Later, the boys breakdown in rehearsal when they sing a London ballad, ‘I dried your tears. I brushed your hair. I held your hand when you were scared. Remember the time when you cried because of thunder.’ Seeing the two cry together, rather than scream ‘cunt’ at one another, brings a lump to the throat.

In 1988 Terry Wogan asked the question, ‘What will you do when the screaming stops?’ The answer is here. They survived and thrived enough to produce a movie that has got the whole word laughing. Yet for all the Buzzfeed lists of ’20 Great WTF Moments From After The Screaming,’ they’ve somehow done it whilst remaining likeable. Having produced years of disposable music, this picture might just be the thing that endures.

Bros: After The Screaming Stops is on BBC iPlayer

100 Reasons To Be Cheerful

1.      Lorries that have decorative lights.

2.      Lorries without their trailer. They look emasculated. Vehicle vasectomy I call it.

3.      Listening to podcasts on the way to and from work – I find it really relaxing.

4.      With that in mind: Rule of three, Quickly Kevin, Films To Be Buried With, Blood on the Tracks and Saturday Review are all podcasts I’ve enjoyed this year.

5.      Mark Kermode on ‘Kermode and Mayo’ continues to be my oracle for all things film.

6.      My brother and the boys winning Best Supporters Podcast at the Football Supporters Award. From The Rookery End is a great listen for Watford fans.

7.      On Christmas Eve it was a perfect blue morning. I was running across the Downs, back to the person I love, whilst listening and laughing to a show about Garth Marenghi’s Darkplace. It felt pretty good.

8.      I read those end of year lists and gave Idles a go. Great lyrics and an exciting racket.

9.      I’ve read some wonderful books this year: Reservoir 13, Normal People and A Natural show contemporary literature is in rude health.

10.  Princess Bride is one of the funniest things I’ve ever read.

11.  My brother was commissioned to write a book. It comes out next year. More news to follow.

12.  My mum made a good recovery from her operation.

13.  My dad is really enjoying retirement. And so he should: he really earned it.

14.  I’m lucky enough to be marrying into a lovely family.

15.  Bev and Dan building a lovely home.

16.  Sarah, along with her friend Lorna, did so well to set up their food fair. It takes courage to do something new and seeing the crowds vindicated their decision.

17.  Matt’s doing well in his new job.

18.  Zoe running her half-marathon.

19.  Clare filming her DVD.

20.  All of my mates that have had children.

21.  Beth getting promoted.

22.  I’ve assembled the best team for my stag. I think the great mates that I’ve got must be a reflection on my genius.

23.  Javi Gracia appears to a better tactician and man than Marco Silva.

24.  Gareth Southgate being England manager.

25.  Filling in my World Cup wall chart.

26.  Going to football with my dad and brother.

27.  Having wall-to-wall buffets.

28.  A glass of Baileys before bed.

29.  That bowl of cereal that breaks the nighttime fast.

30.  Shonagh in my department has a better jokes-per-minute ratio than most working stand-ups.

31.  I work with people I respect and admire.

32.  Fi for setting up the buddy system at work.

33.  Seeing Jonnie ace his teacher training. Being at his wedding was lovely too.

34.  Getting Christmas cards from students. One girl seemed absolutely mortified when she handed it over. I understand: it’s embarrassing to like me, but impossible not to.

35.  My work values its staff.

36.  We found a lovely venue to get married in.

37.  Yesterday I spent three hours composing different playlists for the wedding. It’s the closest I’ll get to curating a music festival.

38.  Re-watching Spinal Tap and Withnail & I.

39.  Going to the hockey for the first time.

40.  Seeing children enjoy Shakespeare.

41.  The structural magnificence of Stewart Lee’s Content Provider.

42.  John Finnemore is a comedy writer of the highest order.

43.  Villanelle in Killing Eve.

44.  The Bill Murray pub for comedy.

45.  Derry Girls and Young Offenders have vanquished the Irish spectre of Father Ted.

46.  Little Volcanoes was beautiful radio.

47.  There She Goes was a hidden gem on BBC 4.

48.  The Tories are all over the place.

49.  There are mechanisms in place to curb Trump’s power.

50.  Frankie Boyle’s closing monologue on New World Order. Such caustic eloquence.

51.  Friday nights in with The Girl.

52.  Leave No Trace was such a moving film.

53.  After saying I didn’t commit to pictures that require effort, I sat down and watched Roma last night. It’s easy to see why it’s tipped for Best Picture. The beauty, the tragedy, all of life is there.

54.  A lot of my family are coming over for the wedding next year. Hertfordshire is going Tamil.

55.  The Girl’s cousins are doing great in Oz. Clea in acting; Emma in art.

56.  One meeting five and a half years ago has created a ripple in a pond. I now have more friends and family because of it.

57.  I totally lose myself in writing and forget every worry and concern.

58.  Those occasions where I feel I can run and run.

59.  I knocked off eight minutes from my personal best.

60.  Our neighbours brought us round a box of chocolates yesterday.

61.  A nice e-mail from a parent.

62.  Getting work done at school and leaving the evening free.

63.  A free bar at a wedding. (Sorry we can’t offer this. We’ve had a word with the venue though and we’ve managed to secure a drinks deal on tap water.)

64.  Dina Asher-Smith and KJT winning gold.

65.  Holding The Girl’s hand and thinking ‘this is the right fit.’

66.  Waking up early and getting shit done.

67.  I’m a lot more disciplined with my time than I used to be.

68.  Jim and Jen moving in together.

69.  I went into my library and there in front of me was the new John Boyne book, the new Sally Rooney and the new Sarah Perry.

70.  A freshly laundered bed.

71.  Frances McDormand’s kick-ass performance in Three Billboards.

72.  Getting a question right in Only Connect.

73.  Getting a question right in University Challenge.

74.  Seeing Oxford or Cambridge lose in University Challenge.

75.  Having time to have a read.

76.  The Christmas Radio Times.

77.  Listening to Shaun Keaveny.

78.  Those snow days.

79.  Becoming a Staff Governor. I find it really interesting. However, I am disappointed with the refreshments on offer. I thought being a member of the Inner Circle would have its culinary perks, i.e. a cheese board with complimentary wine – as it is, you have to bring your own water to meetings.

80.  Ireland’s referendum result.

81.  Margaret Atwood is writing a follow-up to The Handmaid’s Tale.

82.  The video to ‘This Is America.’

83.  I watched Johnny Cash’s video to ‘Hurt’ yesterday. Wow! People talk about Bowie writing his own obituary, but Cash did too.

84.  When you get to the last day of term and think, ‘I deserve this.’

85.  I finally found the right readings for the wedding.

86.  Those Neymar videos.

87.  Our school is the first in the county to have a mental health nurse – this seems like an important step towards looking after children who’ve experienced loss, homelessness, stress and trauma.

88.  Steve Arnott and the Beats Bus.

89.  How neither Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi got to the World Cup final. Football is a team game – with constant Ballon d’Or ‘who’s the best in the world?’ ‘how do the stats compare?’ it’s easy to forget that.

90.  Most people are quite nice once you get to know them.

91.  I really liked the ‘Lunar Rhapsody’ tune in First Man.

92.  I got a great Secret Santa present this year. I’ve had some disappointing ones over the years. I know people say, ‘you should be grateful whatever you get,’ but I don’t know if this is true. A good present shows you’ve thought about someone; a bad present shows the opposite. If you really aren’t happy with your present, then moan away as far as I’m concerned.

93.  Brexit might teach British people to be humbler in the future and realise that countries are interconnected, that isolationism isn’t power.

94.  I’m pretty pleased with my new laptop.

95.  I found that memory stick.

96.  We currently have enough chocolates to get us through to next Christmas.

97.  If I know something is wrong, I’ll speak up. I’m proud of this.

98.  Watching James Acaster ‘go electric’ and ditch his schtick for something more personal. He is the future of British stand up.

99.  Being with someone I love.

100.                      Tomorrow we’re going to look at wedding rings. My future is confirmed. I couldn’t be happier.