On paper I shouldn’t really like IDLES. I have a bit of hang up about white tattooed males in guitar bands playing angry and shouty music. But somehow IDLES – despite being exactly that – do it differently. The lyrics are good, there are songs in there and their performances are supercharged and heartfelt. At times at their show at the Glass House in Pomona, Southern California, I think lead signer Joe Talbot might have an aneurysm, his eyeballs almost popping out of his head. He prowls the stage, staring at the crowd with a raw intensity, jumping around like a pugnacious pugilist. Both guitarists – Mark Bowen and Lee Kiernen – jump around the stage pulling rock God poses, Pete Townsend meets Jack White with tongue firmly in cheek. I wonder how their fingers aren’t bloodied to the quick with the frantic playing style.

But mostly IDLES resonate with the direct honesty in their songs. There’s too much wishy washy music out there, over medicated Brooklyn indie schmindie outfits singing about broken hearts or lockdown blues are ten a penny. IDLES sing about the state of the UK – and world – today. Mental health, grief, immigration, the stress and inequality of capitalism and addiction all delivered with an overarching theme of compassion and inclusivity. They talk to me – and you. They mean something – and care. Deeply. I look at them and realize they are a gang band. Up there, having fun, saying important things, entertaining us and looking out for each other and us. We all want to be in the gang. Joe Talbot has that classic frontman quality of men wanting to be him whilst the women want to fuck him. Or maybe – in such gender fluid and mixed up times – the reverse is also true. Judging from the streams of fans at the merch stand buying everything they can grab, you can tell how they have a fervent, tribal, loyal and committed fan base. I SEE YOU in that IDLES t-shirt. YOUR ARE ONE OF US. We are we. Very important in a very divided world – we are joined to something. Others like me feel similar things. You are not alone.

That’s the secret cocktail. Anger and compassion. We’re angry at things going on but – most of us, hopefully – compassionate enough to engage with problems and fellow humans through empathy and a hope for a better future. We are earthlings – all of us immigrants. The sound is relentless, an onslaught of riffs and call to action chants from Joe Talbot, backed by the motorik spine of Adam Devonshire on bass. Even with ear plugs and headphone protectors – double bagged to protect my tinnitus – it still sounds loud. You can feel the music – physically and emotionally. I punch my arm in time to the drum break, my annoyance at the world slightly sated realising I am in a room of other beings who think the same. A song expressed something I thought. I float out the room at the end feeling inspired. I do believe I have just seen the best live band in the world.

All photos and text by Martin Worster