Idles - Ultra Mono Review
where that special sparkle of Joy… and Brutalism is missing, there are some fresh ideas and trademark energy ensuring it is a more than solid entry into their catalogue
“How can anybody talk shit about Idles in front of me?” I overheard last year in a post-festival coach queue, surrounded by a sea of ‘I’m Scum’ t-shirts, “they know that this band is like our religion.” The undeniably popular Bristol outfit slogged through for almost a decade before Brutalism and Joy as an Act of Resistance established them as one of the most exciting British “not a fucking punk” bands in a while. Their godlike status to many was borne of Talbot’s unique tongue, rendering him bannerman for the downtrodden and impugner of the racists and other brands of prick. Idles cut through the chaff into the hearts of the working human and the metropolitan liberal elite alike, through some of the most accessible heartfelt and confrontational rock out there, with enough noise to ensure raucous live shows are a certainty with their tunes.
Ultra Mono was set to be their most ambitious and most intelligent record to date, with bangers for singles, and a few steps into slightly uncharted territory. Talbot’s now trademark lyricism is key throughout as he continues to take on the Tories and the poisonous masculine, also lashing out at his critics and dipping into the personal. Whilst the album struggles to be Joy… levels of quality, it’s still a success.
Lead single ‘Mr. Motivator’ features a whirlwind lasso of a riff, which wizzes back and forth in front of us. As the rush subsides we settle into Talbot’s stream of similes against capitalism, “Like Kathleen Hanna with bear claws, grabbing Trump by the pussy” and exemplar rebuttals of any claims against his originality, “Like Conor McGregor with a samurai sword, on rollerblades” and we strive to unify as per the Idles mantra, in order to “chase the pricks away.” The chorus raptures with positive reinforcement and anti-lonerism to anthemic proportions, “how’d ya like them cliches” indeed. Second single ‘Grounds’ is similarly anthemic, opening with squeezing sirens before a jagged verse chugs in to a rousing “Do you hear that thunder? That's the sound of strength in numbers” reminiscent of “this snowflake's an avalanche” in ‘I’m Scum’. ‘Model Village’ is a little sillier but remains sharp, darting around kicking Little England, homophobes and staunch Brexiteers in the pink, hammy shins.
It wouldn’t be an Idles album without a generous serving of conflict, taking on the boys. We are familiar with ‘Model Village’ taking on the “"Hardest man in the world", in the “village”. We also have ‘Reigns’ taking on the royal family, and denouncing classism; the Jehnny Beth-featuring ‘Ne Touche Pa Moi’ takes on the cat-callers and the gropey entitled men who do not keep their hands to their own “dancing space” in clubs. The album opener ‘War’ features Joe mimicking the sounds of violence over a whipped guitar, scowling bass and blistering drums. The descending lines here act as musical metaphor for the descent into madness driven by division and fuelled by hate and misinformation.
It’s not all aggression of course, Talbot showing a more vulnerable side in ‘Anxiety’ which finds Joe with anxiety getting the best of him, unable to fully heal after events in the past and governments of the present. It feels like ‘1049 Gotho’ part 2, with the mental health focus moving from Joe’s friends onto himself. The third release from the album, and slowburner ‘A Hymn’ finds us all striving for the love we all want and deserve, and feeling crushed under the weight of shame. ‘Mr. Motivator’ has already taken swings at those critiquing the band’s messages as cliche, albeit aggressively. In sequence with ‘Slow Savage’, ‘The Lover’ sees Talbot no less vocally passionate and forthright but there’s a more defensive, personal, edge to it here lashing out with simplicity and almost childlike contrarianism through the likes of “I want to cater for the haters, eat shit”. He is a lover and we feel the anger and put up our frustrated and defiant love as our joint, united ward.
There's a little something missing on Ultra Mono though, Joy… featured fully-fleshed stories and characters in tracks like ‘Never Fight a Man with a Perm’ and ‘Danny Nedelko’ but there are no specific and distinctive case studies here. The damnations are a little less burly too, with “Gammon in the village” less striking than “you look like a walking thyroid, you’re not a man, you’re a gland.” Criticism of Joe’s vocals remains unfounded, and complaints of lack of subtlety prompt little more than shrugs. Idles are not subtle; they do not need to be. Where a few moments are a little emptier, there’s some differentiation musically to inject refreshment. The dance-punk of ‘Kill Them With Kindness’ evokes Death from Above with a ringing guitar and stomping rhythm. ‘Reigns’ features a ska-like section while ‘Carcinogenic’ takes Talbot’s signature “Tories and Bravado as cancer” and “love above all else” attitudes, though it feels more mature with its chord strokes and grandiose discussions about death.
Love, equality, unity, consent, not-being-a-dick. These tropes of Idles' messages might be getting tired to some but the reality is that these messages desperately need consistent reiteration, which is itself the most exhausting factor. By the time album closer ‘Danke’ comes about, there is little left for Talbot to say aside from thanks, allowing the music to come to centre stage. Despite some background noise akin to button presses on old mobile phones and some screeches that sound like the hand puppet Sweep, the bludgeoning wall of drums and thundering guitar is the perfect crescendo of noise.
Ultra Mono may not be their best work to date, but where that special sparkle of Joy… and Brutalism is missing, there are some fresh ideas and trademark energy ensuring it is a more than solid entry into their catalogue. The messages may be exhausting to hear repeated but, if it’s necessary to ram down our throats, why not do it with some powerful riffs, overturned slogans and clever witticisms? As we listen, in sincere and enthusiastic unity, we look up to Idles as torchbearer and rally-crier providing catharsis and direction in our joint struggle for a movement. This Idles experience is less religious than some might have you believe but certainly less stereotypical than others would suggest. Either way, reader, “you can do it” whatever it is, cos “You're Joe Cal-fucking-zaghe...”