Last time I saw IDLES was basking in the dry heat of Primavera Sound in Barcelona back in June, a sun-drenched festival set with the band in razor-sharp form. But Friday night in Bristol brought a different kind of heat altogether.
Queen Square was packed to its edges for the band’s biggest hometown show to date. This was more than just a gig; it felt like a communal release. A celebration of where the band came from, and how far they’ve pushed things without losing that original urgency.
The day kicked off with local DJs easing the crowd in before Sicaria delivered a bass-heavy, rhythm-driven set that had heads nodding and subs rattling. The switch to Lambrini Girls flipped the mood: all snarling punk energy and political bite. C**tology 101 closed a short but blistering set that proved how well their chaos scales on a bigger stage.
Soft Play kept the momentum high. Isaac Holman barely stood still, drumming, shouting, and throwing himself across the stage like he was being chased. Punk’s Dead and Everything and Nothing hit especially hard, and the crowd responded in kind, with mosh pits firing off like sparks. For a band that once played tiny rooms in Bristol, they looked fully at home commanding 14,000 people.
Then came IDLES, and the roar when they walked on said it all. Colossus opened, slow, ominous, then explosive, setting the tone for a set that felt both meticulously paced and constantly on the edge of chaos.
From Gift Horse to War, I’m Scum to The Beachland Ballroom, the band moved between ferocity and reflection without ever losing connection. There was no phoning it in. Joe Talbot was fully present, snarling, speaking, and occasionally pausing to offer thanks to the crowd, the Bristol scene, and even those who’ve stuck with him over the years. It felt genuine, not rehearsed.
Lee Kiernan and Mark Bowen blurred the lines between stage and crowd, frequently disappearing into the bodies and reappearing mid-riff. At times, it felt like half the gig was happening offstage; a swirl of circle pits, hoarse voices, and fans lifted on shoulders.
The crowd energy was intense but respectful, a kind of unspoken understanding among fans who’ve grown with this band. That shared feeling showed again during quieter moments, where chants of “Free Palestine” echoed through the square and were acknowledged by the band with quiet solidarity, just as a QR code for aid had been shown earlier in the evening.
The set ended with a brutal trio: Dancer, Danny Nedelko, and Rottweiler. By then, Queen Square was a heaving mass of sweat, grins, and out-of-breath fans shouting every word like it was the last thing they’d say all summer.
A hometown show like this could’ve coasted on sentiment. But IDLES gave Bristol the real thing: full tilt, unfiltered, and unforgettable.
