Love them or hate them, IDLES is a band. What many people don’t know is that they’re also super fucking British. Their politically outspoken material has ruffled more than its fair share of feathers, while simultaneously educating audiences worldwide about the horrors of the UK. Here are 15 of their most scathing tracks that made our British History course in college – or uni as the Brits call it – an even bigger waste of time and money than it already was.
“Mother”
“Mother,” from IDLES debut full-length, ‘Brutalism,’ serves as one of the band’s many working class anthems. Many uneducated American listeners hear the chorus refrain “the best way to scare a Tory is to read or get rich,” and think that the band really hates people named Tory. They’re dead wrong. “Tories” are the United Kingdom’s equivalent to the State’s Republicans. You read that right. Even the idyllic wonderland that is Great Britain has asshole conservatives in office.
“Great”
MAGA assholes aren’t the only people trying to make things “great” again. Racism and anti-immigration sentiment are alive and well across the pond too. In this song “Blighty,” which is a fading post-war colloquial term for England, “wants his country back.” If the pre-chorus is any indicator, which advises him that “Islam didn’t eat” his “hamster,” “Blighty” mostly wants a country free from diversity. Sound familiar? Yep! Other countries are hell too!
“I’m Scum”
The members of IDLES have been criticized for this song by contemporaries who claim they weren’t being forthright about their middle-class upbringings. It certainly may be true that lead singer Joe Talbot has never lived in council housing as his lyrics suggest. Still, it’s nice to know that even British scene morality clauses attempt to stifle otherwise valid attempts to raise awareness of poverty for the sake of clout. We kinda thought that was exclusively an American thing.
“Well Done”
Okay, we guess this one isn’t entirely political, but it does seem to suggest a widening generation gap in England not unlike the one we’ve seen in the States. This song runs the gamut of the youth’s perceived shortcomings by old jaded fucks such as; not having gainful employment, failing to gain notoriety, and, of course, a lack of appreciation for famed British food journalist Mary Berry.
“Meds”
Imposter syndrome is a heavy theme on this one. Talbot details the pressures of attempting to normalize into a homogeneous society, and the feeling of being a cog. It also suggests that much of mental health treatment is too focused on getting people in line versus allowing patients to live fruitful unique lives. “Meds” essentially questions the existence of normality at large. Such heavy inquiries are surely uniquely British, we assume. There’s also a line in there suggesting meditation as a healthy practice, but we really couldn’t be bothered to pretend to care enough to analyze it.
“Divide and Conquer”
Health care might be abysmal in America but it also sucks in other countries too, notably Great Britain. “Divide and Conquer” was written about a push from conservative members of Parliament to privatize the NHS, or Nation Health System. This was a political measure that Talbot ultimately attributed to his mother’s death. There’s not really a joke here. Rich politicians just suck ass on both sides of the pond.
“The New Sensation”
While the world didn’t really need another “do the *insert new dance craze or whatever here*” song, IDLES delivered one anyway. This track has several targets, but mostly seems to be lashing out at England’s bungled attempts to manage the pandemic, particularly in the field of service industry workers recouping financial losses. Instead of delivering aid to these struggling sectors of employment, the British government put up adverts (that’s English for advertisements) suggesting those in the entertainment industry simply uproot their professions and learn coding or some shit. As any developed nation can tell you, most performers are absolute dog-shit at tech. Needlessly to say, the messaging was less than successful.
“Danny Nedelko”
Friend of the band and lead singer of the noise-rock outfit Heavy Lungs, Danny Nedelko, immigrated from Ukraine to England when he was fifteen years old. At the height of Brexit – which we still don’t fully understand despite now being well-versed in British politics – anti-immigration sentiment in England was at its peak. In response, IDLES penned this fan-favorite track as a tribute not just to their friend, but to the vibrant culture that immigrants bring to their otherwise boring-as-hell country.
“Carcinogenic”
You may think of England as a complete and total paradise that has capitalism figured out for all of its citizens. To that we say, wake up you fucking idiot. You didn’t need to ace British History to know that the class divide is thriving in other parts of the world too. “Carcinogenic” blames the wealthy elite for everything from soulless 9-5 labor to worsening drug habits among the lower classes. If you’re not going to listen to the track, at least read a book and stop living in a fantasy world.
“Rottweiler”
Did you know that Rottweilers are excellent herding dogs often used on farms to corral sheep and cows? Now you do. Not only are IDLES constantly educating their audience on the political turmoil of their homeland, they’re also throwing a little cynology in the mix. In “Rottweiler,” the band turns the breed into a metaphor suggesting that tabloid newspapers herd their readers into political indifference, much like Rottweilers lead their livestock to slaughter. Sure, it’s a pretty overused metaphor but maybe it bears repeating. Turns out a lot can happen when you’re focused on how many outfit changes Taylor Swift had on the Eras Tour. Looking at you, Greg.
“I Dream Guillotine”
During the French Revolution, the guillotine became a noted symbol of the “Reign of Terror,” in which French Revolutionaries publicly executed thousands of members of the elite class. We think, at least. Remember, we’re experts in British Political Culture now, not French. Either way, this song is a scathing rebuke of the wealthy elite in Britain and their contribution to the decline of the country’s working class. It’s been said this song is also a criticism of something called “Thatcherism,” but we’ve been too lazy to look into it.
“Never Fight A Man With A Perm”
This song was featured in a pretty pivotal scene from the BBC hit “Peaky Blinders.” It’s been noted that the series was the most accurate representation of British Political history ever made. Like most modern songs that were featured in the period piece, we’re not sure if this one actually holds any relevance to the featured topic matter. What we do know is that “Never Fight A Man With A Perm” is a scathing diss track aimed at the exact types of toxic males that typically worship the show. Surely sticking it to the man with an ironic needle drop is a major component of British politics, so we would be remiss not to include this one.
“War”
Talbot has stated the “war” mentioned in this song is one of symbolic nature. A metaphor for a conflict within one’s self. We’re pretty sure we know the song better than him, though, and it’s clearly a beat-for-beat retelling of World War I. In case you aren’t experts like us, WWI had a profound impact on Britain’s economy, culture, and politics. Some argue the ramifications of the bloody conflict are still felt today within the nation’s attitudes, class structure, and economic woes. Nice try though, Joe.
“Stockholm Syndrome”
Many assumed this was a Blink-182 cover upon reading the tracklisting of the band’s fourth LP “Crawler.” Sadly the wool had been pulled over their eyes as listeners quickly discovered it was yet another of the band’s socio-political think pieces. “Stockholm Syndrome” explores the bitter class divide in England while suggesting those under both sides are in reality held under the oppressive thumb of Parliament. It was actually pretty hard for us to understand this one, because it’s so unlike the current situation in the States.
“Reigns”
In the opening verse of “Reigns,” Talbot asks how it feels to have “blue blood running through your veins.” Before you start pondering your fragile anatomy and fleeting life, you should note that Blue Bloods is British slang for aristocrats. The metaphors don’t end there, either. During the song’s chorus, you might have imagined Talbot engaging in a little horseplay, perhaps trotting across a stage on all fours asking his bandmates to ‘pull on’ his ‘reins.’ That is sadly not the case, as Talbot is referring to the way the wealthy ruling class in Great Britain often slows down progress for the working class, metaphorically pulling on their reins. You would have probably put that together if you had taken the time to notice that they spelled it ‘reigns.’
Photo by Alexander Kellner
It would be easy to dismiss the only Belke-less SNFU album for that fact alone, and that’s probably what we’re doing. Still thrashing and tight ‘til Tuesday, the guitars are missing the brothers’ radioactive/mutant quality, much easier to notice when it’s gone. The late Mr. Chi Pig is belting out his cutesy horror lyrics nearly as well as ever and, coming out of a rough period of addiction and homelessness, that’s a more impressive miracle than getting a crowd to make really tiny fish sandwiches or healing some jerk with leprosy. Let’s hope he gets resurrected faster than this other guy.
Geography dictates that there are countless similarities between Vancouver and Seattle. Trees and mountains are everywhere, it won’t stop raining, and hard drugs could feasibly be elected Mayor. This is a very Vancouver album – green and grimy and soaking wet and Bif Naked is here – except for the song that takes place in Virginia with Lorena Bobbitt cutting her husband’s cheating doodle off. That’s cool, but it’s a 3,000-mile jump in location. Was no one paying attention to continuity?
There weren’t many SNFU shows without “Reality is a Ride on the Bus” or “Painful Reminder” in the setlist, and there are other gems on this album too – but when an emergency rehab stint a few days into recording sidelines your producer, you may lose some of the sonic intensity you were hoping would be your top cherry. The blazing Belke attack is somewhat neutered, and that snare drum is bordering on Snapcase. Chi is, as always, a suitably jovial/disturbing host.
Fresh off of pretty much inventing melodic hardcore, these freaks are already fucking with the formula. “What if Jerry Lee Lewis was Darby Crash?” seems to be the seed of “The Devil’s Voice,” while “I Forget” sounds as if AC/DC had their first show at the 9:30 Club. The only problem here is the blatant lie in the title – you had at least one grandparent who both cursed a blue streak and could easily snatch up a rainbow trout with their bare hands.
Leading off with an ad for their new venture as futon salesmen, SNFU are all business on this record. Sure, for this band a G.I. Joe coming to life and raging with murderous penis envy is all in a day’s work, and laying the groundwork for the entire future of skate punk is something you can just do whenever you feel like it. Seriously, go out to your garage right now and try it. Just watch out for that old box of action figures.
One of those “instant classics,” a term so overused it lost all meaning until it was brought back to life by the writing of this article. This instant classic hits the ground not only running but already chasing down prey – it’s speedy, it’s thrashy, it’s gnarly, it’s… catchy?! Sure is, and we can still hear the influence of this album today. Also noteworthy is that this band is from Edmonton, which until now we thought was a fictional city like Metropolis or Saskatoon.
The mid-’90s were a pivotal time for SNFU. Punk records were finally sounding like they were made in a real studio with real engineers, which was good because at the time they were selling an absurd amount of them while writing the catchiest shit ever. This was also a time when science was the closest they’d ever gotten to figuring out what the fuck is happening on any of the band’s album covers. Looking at them for an extended period is discouraged, you’d have a better chance of staying sane if you were taking care of a remote mountain hotel for the winter.
At the time of its release, many had forgotten about SNFU or assumed they had petered out the way bands do. Unexpectedly, after eight long silent years, they unleash this blast of speed, riffage, and absurdity that tears through town like a tornado. The playing is sphincter-tight and Chi Pig is in top form on both the page and the mic. When those burners are firing, they can go places that no one else can. If we have the guts, they’re happy to take us along for the ride.
Hippos kill more humans than any other animal in the world, but aside from inviting a few mean jokes toward the heaviest member of your family, there’s very little chance for Hungry Hungry Hippos to tear a family apart forever.
If you’ve never played it, Apples to Apples is basically like an even more dumbed-down version of Cards Against Humanity without the “Against Humanity” part. Just simple, non hentai/AIDS/racism nouns matched to adjectives. Any family game night can have a sore loser, but if this one causes significant friction in your family you guys have way deeper issues to work out.
Basically a glorified version of Tic Tac Toe, Connect 4 actually requires you to make pleasant chit-chat in the hopes of distracting your opponent from what’s right in front of their face. If your family can’t enjoy Connect 4 without serious conflict, move out immediately.
Look, if you’re arguing over a game of checkers, it has nothing to do with the checkers and everything to do with the fact that you hate your siblings.
Unless someone in your family is drunk enough to make really inappropriate “twink” comments you’re pretty safe playing Dream Phone.
In the commercials when you lose at Jenga that’s okay, it’s part of the fun! In reality, it’s Mom, every single goddamned time. Is she doing it for attention?
A deceptively challenging game with a million opportunities to make one innocent mistake that will 100% be interpreted as a lie.
This game seems straightforward, but there’s just enough room for error in the interpretation of certain questions to build accusations of cheating that will serve as the seeds for resentments that can last a lifetime.
There’s no reason for this game to devolve into a passive-aggressive tiff rooted in homophobia when played with a family group, and yet every family has at least one dude who will bring it there every single time.
In the movie, Jumanji is a magical game forcing players into an epic high-stakes adventure. In reality, it’s little more than a re-skinned version of Candyland that will have your family shouting “Whose dumb idea was it to play this boring game anyway?!” in no time.
This classic Napoleon-themed war game is simple enough to instill children with the close-to-the-chest tact they’ll one day use to tiptoe through future family gatherings.
Versions of this game date back to ancient Egypt, but the modern American version always ends the same way: Children in the back of a car whining “Why do we always have to go to Grandma’s house, it’s boring!”
If your family agrees to play Risk, it’s because it’s a board game they have heard of and they have absolutely no information beyond that. Technically the game can last days, but you’ll all storm off hating one another within a few torturous hours.
A straight-up dice gambling game disguised as wholesome entertainment, sort of like the razor-thin veneer of “loving family” You know is hanging by a thread.
If you think your problem-drinking uncle isn’t going to turn your game of Othello into a race thing you’ve got another thing coming.
A game with absolutely zero strategy, the winner is determined by what each player randomly spins. So why is my brother looking so smug after winning? You didn’t like, DO anything bro, get over yourself.
Another zero strategy game, the winner being predetermined by the order of the cards at the beginning of the game. So why does your cousin keep insisting she’s “good at it”? You should be able to let it go, but you just can’t, I mean what does that even mean?!
With all of those colors, numbers, and a somewhat complex scoring system there’s bound to be at least one member of your family with just enough of a processing disorder to have a full-on meltdown.
This ain’t your Grandmother’s card game! That’s probably why she’s so confused. You’re trying to explain the rules as politely as you can but you know it’s only a matter of time before you yell at her, and you already hate yourself for it.
This game seems like a cutesy celebration of ‘80s consumerism, but it can bring out the worst in people. It’s basically Black Friday, the home edition. You even need to find your parking spot after you buy everything.
The first time you hear that little buzzer go off everyone has a nice fun laugh. After the 100th time, you will look the woman who gave birth to you dead in the eye and say “What the hell is wrong with you?!”
While its cousin Scrabble is a much more potent argument generator, Boggle gets some points because you can grab it with one hand and use it as a projectile if you’re mad enough.
It’s never too early to teach kids the smarmy passive-aggression that will generate physical fights with their siblings for years, maybe decades!
Fresh off the first of many hiatuses, something about “Blaze” is a little off. Remember that this is an American band, and since the world had last heard from them America had to endure 9/11, Columbine, and Woodstock ‘99. Nickelback were consistently hitting #1 and subprime mortgages were a dime a dozen – but 2003 wasn’t as great as it sounds. “Blaze” is still Lagwagon, your mom will still let you play it in the car.
Rock and roll really does belong to the youth, punk rock even more so, with ‘90s skate punk being a prime example. Despite that, these ancient skate punks actually have some legs left. “Surviving California” and “Bubble” are serious Lagwagon, but throwing everything they had into the ambitious “The Suffering” may have tuckered these old boys out a bit. They’re back, but unlike RKL they aren’t mad about it.
This much-loved 12” slab of tartan barf is the first album to feature current Lagwagon drummer Dave Raun, one of many eventual members who was young, wealthy, and liked acid. Dave’s a decent guy (like most of us) until he drums, when something akin to demonic possession occurs and the violence begins. “Double Plaidinum” sounds remarkably cohesive for a band with two new members, but it only reaches Gingham status.
Something about the combination of the noose on the cover and the warm, wall–of–sound production of “Hang” could easily send you down an internet rabbit hole of autoerotic accidents, and despite everything you learn about how easy it is to get the smallest thing wrong and end in one of the least private tragedies imaginable, you will definitely look into the actual logistics of it once you finish writing this article. Maybe blast “You Know Me” at the peak.
You know things are serious when they tune down right at the beginning. “Resolve” serves as a eulogy for original drummer Derrick Plourde, and the loss can be heard in every note on the album. Good thing it’s not your job to write jokes about this album, eh? You might end up typing different versions of “Thanks, Joey. Thanks a lot.” until you hit your word count. Thanks, Joey. Beautiful record, but you fucked up my day.
The word “Duh” means nothing to us, so we did some research and our data suggests it’s an acronym for “a Debut record this good is UnHeard of.” One of the blueprints of the “Fat” sound, every piece that makes Lagwagon great is already here. Even today, there are plenty of folks who will passionately argue that it’s still their best album. It’s not and they’re goofs, but “Tragic Vision” alone makes a very good case for them, along with classics “Bury the Hatchet” and “Mr. Coffee.”
This record is 25 years old and still feels like “the new one.” The ‘90s were an incredible journey for Lagwagon, going from house parties to full houses and writing dozens of songs that are still played and loved every single day. If you see them live and listen to what happens when they introduce “May 16” you wonder why it isn’t a federal holiday. We could use a pre-game for Memorial Day.
Lagwagon may be a garbage soccer team, but they’re a hell of a band. The songs that actually appear on this collage of movie clips (including Bobcat Goldthwait’s immortal “Shakes the Clown”) are nearly all classics of the era, and the ones that aren’t totally are as well. Your band covered “Bye for Now” because a) everyone loved it and sang along and b) it was the only song on the album your guitarist could play. If there’s a negative here, it’s that Van Morrison may have gotten royalties from this record.
Top-tier musicianship and 14 of the most memorable songs you’ve ever heard might be enough to achieve the gold medal. Honestly, the impact of “Sleep” alone could possibly do it – if there was a party in 1996 where the highlight wasn’t when that song came on the boombox, we weren’t at it. The master stroke was releasing an album that features a song called “Name Dropping” and somehow that’s not the song that drops the names of the two most famous and sexiest humans to ever walk the earth, Sherilyn Fenn and Billy Gibbons. Subtle artistry like that has some legs.
