Triumphant: Idles at the O2 Academy Brixton reviewed

The single thing you don’t want when you are beginning a run of four shows in a prestige venue, with reviewers out in force, is for it all to go tits up at the start. Which is precisely what happened to Idles as they opened their Brixton run. On came the band, up started the throb of the opening song, ‘MTT 420 RR’, and off stalked singer Joe Talbot. Back he came. Off he went. Back he came. Off he went, clearly dealing with some technical issue. The rest of the band carried on, but given that until Talbot starts singing, ‘MTT 420 RR’ is nothing but a monotone drone, this was not the dramatic start one might have hoped for. Next to me, Idles’ booking agent started laughing, a little despairingly.

And that was it for despair, for once Talbot’s troubles were cured — a faulty in-ear monitor, apparently — Idles were a shock of energy and power. The first time I saw them they were grateful to be playing to a few hundred people in London; four years on, they’re selling 20,000 tickets at Brixton. The Academy is a cavernous space that can make bands sound as though they are trying to fight their way out of quicksand. It quickly exposes which of them are not yet ready for big stages. I wouldn’t say Idles made it feel like a club — they didn’t — but they seemed entirely at home.

Idles’ growth over the past few years has been driven by one thing: a rage leavened with a certain astonishment at the ridiculousness of the world. One would not have called them the most nuanced of groups: their default setting was a barbaric yawp, musically, lyrically and vocally. But it was a barbaric yawp to which people responded: at the festivals I go to Idles are the single most popular T-shirt, whether or not they are playing.