Idles - Hard Luck Bar, Toronto - March 20, '18 [Guest Post]

A warm A/V welcome to guest blogger Kate Foster who just needed to spread the word on Idles:

I hadn’t felt as genuinely excited as I was to see Idles in a very long time, some combo of the promise of seeing an excellent live show and the thrill of the unfamiliar. I took the streetcar as opposed to the subway which I'd never normally do, and this was my first time at Hard Luck Bar. It’s hard to feel like a tourist in your own home town, but tonight I had it.

As I’m rocking up, I realize guitarist Adam is standing out front hacking a dart and checking his phone, along with the slew of fans lining the sidewalk doing the same. My immediate fanboi reaction is to run over and tell him all about how great I think the band is, but I quickly realize this is very clearly the opposite vibe of this night. This band brings no bullshit and often conveys that they appreciate their fans as much as we appreciate them, so keeping the symbiotic (and silent) respect seemed key.

I get up into the venue which is already quite crowded, seeing as I opted to show up around 15 minutes before set time. Again, I'm shocked as I take my first glance to the stage and see Joe et al. getting their gear set up, tuning, etc. It feels like forever since I've seen a band actually doing the "grunt" work for their own shows. Considering their tour schedule is back-to-back-to-back gigs, it clearly speaks to the character of Idles themselves and their passion. Worth noting, when not a day goes by you don’t hear about another band/pop star/DJ who has used their career to abuse women with impunity. 

Once I’ve saddled up beside the merch table and staked out a spot for myself, Joe appears again holding his hands up and spread out toward us, promising only ten more minutes to go. This update is met with cheers, and again, it hits me how cool it is to see a band giving this much of a shit about the crowd. They’re nowhere near behind schedule (if anything they’re early) yet their urgency to deliver a killer show is evident before a single note has even been struck.

As promised it’s suddenly showtime, they launch into Heel/Heal which gets the crowd going in a hurry – bodies are thrashing around in a quickly formed pit before the chorus hits. At this point I’m a few rows of bodies back from the action, the crowd is easily 85% men it seems. I begin the recurring debate of whether or not to stay put where I can dance freely or push to the front where I can get in a good workout and likely lose a possession or two. Telling myself my pit days are behind me, I’m thrilled when song two hits and it’s Idles Chant and nothing up front looks like it’s slowing down anytime soon. As I’m “WHOOOOOOAAA”-ing along I realize everyone around me is standing dead still, seeming confused something is being played that isn’t on Brutalism.

Next up is Mother – which I had been highly anticipating if only because I wanted to see how this song translates to fans – being mostly men. I can’t think of a song in recent memory that confronts rape quite as head-on as this. Well, I can, but there are never any dudes involved in the making of these songs. Now, here’s a fivesome of cis-men singing about the realities of sexual assault, reminding listeners that it is oh SO much more than the horrid act of rape itself – something many, many men need daily reminders of, apparently. So how does this confrontation go over with crowds of people who have likely participated in rape culture to varying degrees their entire lives? As the song is approaching the spoken word bridge (precisely the thing that made me adore Idles in the first place), the two young men directly in front of me turn to each other with smirks slowly spreading.

“Oh yeah, you gonna sing along with this part, eh!?” one chides the other, they both laugh. As if these lyrics are a joke, and not the reality of life for those of us not born with a dick. Rage is rising in me and I try to lean in a little to hear what the rest of the conversation is (mostly because I am dying to call them out at this point), but they’ve leaned into each other closer, presumably as they discuss how hilarious rape is. This is the moment my brain clicks into “fuck it all” mode and I shove past these men and the slew of others to get myself right into the thick of things. 

It’s a funny sort of immediate relief to feel myself lose control over my movements and give into the ebb and flow of the pit, my body aggressively yet slowly getting pushed around while I make sure to scream the lyrics at the top of my lungs when it hits:

'WOMEN ARE SCARED IT’S THEIR LIVES MEN WILL TAKE'

I’m angry because despite the message of this song, of everything happening in the world today, being so goddamn clear it still isn’t understood. I digress.

The energy from both the band and crowd is massive and only seems to grow and fuel each other as the night goes on. No one from the band has spoken much at this point, but Joe is thanking us profusely in between songs and commenting on how great the night is for them. At one point he makes a statement regarding how important it is to him everyone has a good time and is feeling OK, and as the band is starting to play the next track, he directly asks if everyone is in fact OK, but the band more or less drowns him out. I assume they’ll continue on full throttle, imagining the answer wasn’t all that important to them anyway. I’m thrilled to find out I’m dead wrong – Joe insists, stops the band from playing, and again begs the question to the crowd. His inquiry is met with silence, and so he repeats, just to be sure, is anyone at all NOT feeling safe right now being here? and as the silence continues, he turns his back to motion to the rest of Idles to get the song going again. All I can do is yell THANK-YOU! as loud as I can, hoping they realize how incredibly important that moment was for me, and surely others.

Where I’ve ended up in the pit there are many more women than expected, and despite the fact I’m alone at this gig, there is an undeniable feeling of comfort. At certain points throughout the set, Joe is graciously giving fans a hand either getting up or off of a crowd surf. He encourages several kids to get up and go for it, offering a hand to many of us in the front to take a turn. He even taps someone’s shoulder who has spent the majority of the set bracing themselves against an amp with their head down, and after a thumbs-up exchange to confirm they are OK, he’s back to business with the song. Lead guitarist Mark has made several trips into the crowd too, navigating himself to a spot to play and dance around a little surrounded by fans before making his way back on stage. These interactions just keep proving how fucking genuinely cool this band is. 

They blaze through most tracks from Brutalism, tossing in Queens, which Joe leads into by declaring “Fuck selfies!”. I’m personally thrilled to hear 1049 Gotho which is introduced as being about something horrible his friend suffered from greatly – depression. I can’t help but wonder if this song is actually more autobiographical, but it really doesn’t matter either way. Again, they are unapologetically diving into taboo waters, driving home the realities of living with depression. I’m excited to hear (personal) favourites like White Privilege, Faith in the City and Date Night. They introduce a new song, titled simply, The Love Song, as one of their final tracks which takes a minute to build up, but ends up getting us going just as much as Benzocaine had. Slower song Divide & Conquer was tossed in too, which I hadn’t imagined would be all that exciting to see live (despite being an awesome track). But the way the band builds the intensity throughout the song as Joe is pacing with it, finally getting the drop where he smashes his outstretched arms down around him seeming larger than life, makes this an excellent addition to the set list. 

We get fair warning when they approach their final track, which comes with the promise of “we don’t do encores, so this is it” to the crowd’s disappointment. For me, this is yet another reason to add to my ever-growing list of why Idles just might be the best band to come out of the last decade. No bullshit. After the lights come up, I scan the floor in a futile hunt for one of my tunnels that’s been pushed out of my ear by one of the many bodies passing over head during the last hour. I remember being a teen declaring there's no way I had a good time at a show if I didn't lose something, after countless scarves, jackets and pieces of jewelry got sucked up by dance floors and pits - and now here I am, wondering if maybe that still rings true. After giving up on the tunnel, I make my way down to the street, only to find Mark has beat me to it. He's shimmying his way up to a friend with a cigarette dangling as she waits, hers already lit. My brain again flashes to rushing up to him gushing, but I can only grin as I pass him, my clothes soaked through with sweat now and freezing me to the core on this 2 degree evening.