There’s something very welcoming about the word ‘welcome’ (stay with me). While that may seem like a ridiculous opening statement, it is completely true. There are no mixed messages with it, no history of double-meanings; it’s just a nice, simple and friendly greeting.
Until now, that is.
This week sees the release of Welcome, the debut EP from Idles, and any sense of familiarity associated with the title and its connotations are instantly dispelled as the Bristol five-piece take you on a journey through dark and unnerving soundscapes, that both thrill and unsettle in equal measure.
26/27, with its slow-burning, brooding intensity is a marvelous change of pace compared to the other tracks here and, as an opening track, is a wonderful introduction to the band with the spiky guitar lines creating a genuinely dramatic atmosphere which brilliantly lays the foundations for the rest of the EP to be built upon. First single MEYDEI follows and is the closest the band have come to capturing the intensity of their live show on a studio cut. A couple of months on from when it first appeared and its brash, in-your-face attitude still thrills.
Throughout the EP there are a couple of key elements that drive the songs here forward. Firstly there are the dual guitars that push and pull against each other like a pair of star-crossed lovers; at times completely at-odds, other times coming together in perfect unison. Then there are Joe Talbot’s vocals that ride above it all; as messy and raucous as they are restrained. In-fact it’s these constant contrasts that crop up throughout that make this EP such a distinct and interesting listen.
Further evidence of this disparity comes on Germany where a sluggish intro eventually gives way to a thumping blast of punk and Talbot’s most menacing vocal to-date. It’s their again on the closing track Two Tone as the deliberately prosaic lead vocal becomes swamped by wild and unhinged backing-vocals, resulting in a genuinely original and frantically obtuse sound.
Across this impressive introduction Idles show glimpses of light and dark, restraint and release, and joy and sorrow; to the point where you’re never quite sure where you stand with them – and whether you are, in fact, welcome at all. Something tells us it’ll be worth sticking around to find out though.
