Call Upon The Author

I have a slightly weird relationship with Idlewild. They’ve been part of my musical consciousness from as far back as I can remember, but always slightly outside; just on the fringes. I knew who they were but couldn’t name you any of their songs. They were that person in your office who you nod hello to every day, but have no idea who they really are or what they do. They are the sort of band which, by rights, I should like but never got the chance to. What’s stranger still is that, at the time of writing, I’ve seen them live more times than I have some of my favourite bands; and across the broadest of venue spectrums. My first live Idlewild experience came in 2006 when they supported Pearl Jam at Wembley Arena. I have to say, they failed to make an impression, through no fault of their own. As a support band, trying to engage fans at the back of that huge, soulless cavern is the very definition of pissing in the wind. Fast forward four years, to a tiny venue in South Wimbledon. Idlewild are on stage again, and this time it’s a real whites-of-the-eyes affair. My interest is pricked more than the previous occasion; the crowd and band are into it, yet the tiny stage is causing an underlying vibe of caged animal from the band. From one extreme to the other. Fast forward again a few weeks, and I find myself in Kentish Town Forum, waiting to complete my hat trick. This is more like it. Small enough to feel intimate, yet big enough for the band to really let rip.
After another enjoyable support set from Sparrow and the Workshop, Idlewild take the stage. They look relaxed and comfortable; as well they should after their fifteen years in the biz. The fantastically named front man Roddy Woomble approaches the mic; “How you doin’?” he asks in his chilled, Scottish drawl and the audience respond in an explosion of cheers. As the noise subsides, a lone, and clearly well brought up young man in the second row fires the question back. “Very well, thanks for asking.” Roddy replies with a smirk, as the band launch into the night’s opening track ‘City Hall’ from their 2009 release “Post Electric Blues”. The band are clearly thriving on the extra stage space compared to the show in Wimbledon. Roddy has a an effortlessly cool stage presence. Surveying the crowd with a look of mild amusement during the musical interludes, he has fine tuned the art of doing nothing, yet still making it engaging. Throughout the show, he’ll stroll off to the side of the stage or wander up onto the drum riser, gently moving to the music yet doing very little else. Some how, this is incredibly mesmerising. On the flip side, the rest of the band are a hive of energy; frantically orbiting Roddy like moons round a near static core. Guitarist Rod Pryce-Jones especially comes to life on the larger stage. Springing, spinning and hurling himself around while never missing a note. It’s an entertaining juxtaposition to watch.
A few songs into the set, Roddy drapes himself over the mic stand and announces to the crowd that 2010 marks the ten year anniversary of the band’s “100 Broken Windows” album. To celebrate this fact, we’re treated to a four or five song run from this album which includes ‘Little Discourage’, ‘These Wooden Ideas’, ‘Rosability’ and the excellent ‘Idea Track’. The crowd really come to life during the latter eagerly charting along with the “Your grave, It’s your grave” part. The band briefly “bring things back up to date” with more tracks from “Post Electric Blues” and a couple from 2007 in the form or ‘In Competition for the Worst Time’, ‘Future Works’ and album title track ‘Make Another World’. Rod takes up the keyboard for the next song, the uplifting and infectious sing-along ‘El Capitan’ a lyric which makes the rock climber in me very happy. The crowd are in good voice now, and surveying the sea of (mainly) late twenties/early thirties faces there’s the sense that many in attendance have a long term relationship with the bad, which is always a beautiful thing as far as I’m concerned.
The main set is brought to a close with old school crowd pleasing rocker “When We Argue I See Shapes” and the punky “A Modern Way of Letting Go”. The inevitable chants begin before the band have even left the stage, and soon Idlewild are back. Roddy announces that “We only have a few songs left” and thanks the crowd before announcing that this “will be our last tour for quite a while” which receives a almost panto-esque “BOOOO!” from the crowd, and to my surprise, I realise I’m joining in. Idlewild have finally gotten under my skin, and it’s just my luck that it comes a little too late. The band certainly go out on a high though. “Readers & Writers”, another track from the latest album, starts the encore with its anthemic hook (and one of my favourite tracks of the night), before the evening is finished off with a double shot from “The Remote Part” album in the forms of “American English” and the huge “You Held The World in Your Arms” which sounds like something from the New Order back catalog.
The mark of a really good live act, in my opinion, is one that can captivate and entertain non fans. Pleasing a sea of die hards is like beating fish to death with a sledge hammer. In a bucket. But, if you can make the otherwise oblivious or uninterested concert goer sit up and take notice, then you’ve really done your job. This is exactly what Idlewild managed with me tonight. I went away eager to check out their back catalogue (which hasn’t disappointed either, by the way) and I’ve taken the step from casual onlooker to a fan in my own right. Third time lucky and all that…