Idles Block Party

Words & Pics by Captain Stavros

Noise Complaints Be Damned! Idles 2-Day Block Party hits Bristol like a 1-2 punch combo.

Rolling up late to the Idles Block Party feels like barging into a Cirque Bizarre that you must’ve forgotten you were a part of. Thirty minutes behind schedule thanks to London traffic, we arrive just in time to catch a close-cropped, peroxide, local human; touting and gesticulating wildly while costume jewellery, in such abundance Biz Markie’d blush, swung with force as they were being ejected from the barricaded buffer zone around Queen Square, screaming: “These fucking wankers, all I ever wanted to do was dance!”; a fitting overture for Bristol’s biggest letter to the editor on noise and defiance this summer. This being Idles’ only UK show of the year, the microfestival energy was electric. But Clifton locals looked less than thrilled to see their square turned into a fenced off fortress of beer queues, barrier mazes and relentless bass thuds.

Elbows out ya’ll, because space was the first fight of the night. The footprint felt too small for the sold-out crowd; a constant game of human chicken between queuers and punters dodging the crowd swirl. Good vantage points meant risking being trampled or relying on the giant stage screens. Thank God for those screens; they rescued many who felt stranded behind the press of bodies. At least the weather stayed kind: sunshine and warmth helped keep the mood buoyant.

Lambrini Girls, fronted by Phoebe Lunny whose red stained mouth and chin looked like they’d torn through a small child, cracked the first knuckles of the night, serving up their snarling anti-T*RF sentiment like big sisters dragging the world’s worst uncle out by the ear. They riffed sharply on trans rights, unapologetically and their set closer, ‘Cuntology 101’, had the crowd spelling out every letter like a primal banging of the drums. In every raw chord and lyric, they offered sanctuary to marginalised voices; holding space like protective siblings in a hostile world.

Soft Play (formerly Slaves) followed with a smoggy, gritty set. They opened with ‘All Things’, followed by ‘Fuck the Hi-Hat', ‘Girl Fight’ (played twice by request) and ‘Sockets’, mixing sloganeering with smog-punk energy. Isaac and Laurie leaned in heavily to one way audience chatter, of which they spared no opportunity to take digs at their fans. Wandering into the pit aimlessly mid-song, alerting fans to the rogue mic cable mid-performance; one could argue their time on stage could’ve been spent more effectively. Being blown away by their Ally Pally performance a few years back, this set in contrast left something to be desired. When ‘Fuck the Hi-Hat' (eventually) hit, the only thing that got more of a crowd reaction was when the duo kept shouting “Bristol!”, as though they’d collectively suffered amnesia after every song played. It was chaotic, ragged, and utterly bizzare.

But make no mistake; this was always Idles’ night. As dusk settled, opening bass hits from ‘Colossus’ pulled the audience forward like gravity. Their setlist: ‘Colossus’, ‘Gift Horse’, ‘Mr. Motivator’, ‘Mother’, ‘Car Crash’, ‘I’m Scum’, ‘Well Done’, ‘The Wheel’, weaved defiance with emotion, climaxing in a sonic wave that lifted everyone. Those live renditions ran a slower burn than the studio ‘Colossus’, drawing tension until it exploded into motion. By the chorus, the pit had swelled to a breathing organism pulsing with bass.
 
The sound was immaculate; each instrument sharply defined, every vocal delivered with clarity, and backing harmonies piercing through the roar. Even ringed by barriers, bolstered by screens, the show felt communal, even intimate, like a drenched, screaming embrace.

Joe Talbot’s crowd patter between songs is part confessional, part group therapy. He talks openly about psychotic breaks, mental health struggles, arrests, moving back to Bristol, saving small venues. He doesn’t just sing for the people, he speaks with them, a big brother figure wielding a megaphone instead of a soapbox. Then comes the political gut punch: giant screens flashing a QR code to donate to MAP, a charity helping Palestinians access medical aid. Hundreds of phones rise in the dark, glowing like a constellation of solidarity. It's a rare moment where a gig feels like more than just noise; it feels like action.

The sound throughout is blisteringly good: every instrument distinct, every lyric sharp enough to draw blood. Even with the congestion, even with the disconnect of being forced to watch half the show on a screen, the set feels intimate, communal, a massive, sweaty group hug disguised as a punk gig. Fans in Idles merch hug strangers, strangers scream lyrics back at the band, and for ninety minutes Bristol feels like a place where anger, love and hope all get equal billing. By the end, as the last lights fade and the crowd spills reluctantly back into the city, one thing’s clear: the Idles Block Party doesn’t just give you a night out. It gives you a voice, a cause, and a sore throat to prove it. If this is the only show they give us this year, it’s enough to hold us over—but only just.

More rain of biblical proportion greets us on the second day. In these desperate times we head for the comfort of the familiar. The wonderfully iconic Lauren Laverne is broadcasting live from the festival and we all huddle together like wet sheep.

Everyone is talking about what acts they saw the previous day. However the main chat is all about the Slaves who hosted a takeover party at the end of Brighton pier and as you would hope it was full on carnage. The show had to close early due to huge numbers and many people rushing and jumping over the barriers. By all accounts the boys didn’t fail to deliver and many an urban myth about what went on has already started to develop. 

Along with the main Great Escape festival is a host of offshoot musical events. The Alternative Escape hosted the brilliant Resonators last night while there are also loads of pubs who run events that don’t need tickets and are all completely free. Alongside all this there are various companies hosting events and we have just registered for the Soundcloud secret show. We have no idea who but then it wouldn’t be a secret would it.

We start with Dakota a three piece jangly female-fronted band with echoes of Warpaint which wets our appetite for the day ahead. Next, a truly strange location of the iconic i360 tower on Brighton seafront to catch an intimate gig courtesy of Dr. Martens with the beautiful voice of Cosima. This lady has a huge future  ahead, her stunning vocals, along with the setting, are perfect apart from the rain and really starts our day of well.  

From the beautiful to the downright weird. Delaney Davidson from New Zealand is a one man band who’s been described as Gothic Americana. Personally we think it was blues mixed with Captain Beefheart. He did a superb cover of ‘Where Did You Sleep Last Night’ which was simply hypnotic, wonderful and bonkers. We want more craziness, maybe the weather is sending us mad. Luckily we have two ginger haired Belgian’s who pound out intense synth rock. La Jungle are just one of those act you just don’t get and can’t describe yet you don’t have to. A huge noise is made by these two guys and we lap it up, think Royal Blood with synths and you are kind of getting there.

The sun is out, we aren’t lying. We head to an outdoor stage and catch the singing songwriting talent that is Callum Beattie. As we are serenaded by his acoustic loveliness we can plan the next few acts and dry out. We plump for Kane Strang and a swirling beautiful low-fi psychedelic sound with echoes of Pixies which confirm this guy’s huge talent. We are then excited for one of our must see acts of the weekend Jay Som. Coming out of San Francisco and fronted by the amazing talents of Melina Duterte they serve up lashing of dreamy psychedelic guitars. You feel transported to a hazy summer's day and she is simple a wonderful artist that we can’t recommend enough.  

The late show for tonight, we focus on a few more upcoming urban and grime artists and we begin in the grand setting of Queens’s Hotel to see Koojey Radical. Swigging Redstripe and sweating he leaps about firing out fast flowing lyrics. Stripping off layers after each track he performs some wonderful stuff. It sums up one of the beauties of the Great Escape, underground artists in grand venues which are not used to putting on live acts. We switch to a club on the seafront to catch Grime of the highest order from Belly Squad, all decked out in matching Adidas tracksuits they bring a light-hearted approach, mixing up afro rhythms and afro-beats with a Caribbean vibe to knock out hits such as the wonderful ‘Banana’.

They're followed by Young T & Bugsey who are destined and touted as the next big urban act. Abra Cadabra is freshly following a MOBO award and we can see why. He is dedicated to his craft yet could have been a bit more aware of the crowd. Our final act are 67, a raw uncompromising group of rappers that have a huge following. This we feel is proper grime music without the filters. They are dangerous and we feel privileged and scared all in one. The crowd are bouncing like mad things and they deliver an intense, wonderful performance, with a leading figure wearing a mask either to hide his appearance due to his gang injunction or due to his ASBO. We don’t know but it only adds to the drama of the night and rounds off an intense yet amazing day.