So, you’d be forgiven for approaching the band’s fourth full-length effort – released so soon in the wake of Ultra Mono – with some trepidation. Thankfully, Crawler finds Idles rejuvenated, treading compelling new ground and embracing a complex range of musical influences that might surprise some fans.
Crawler centres predominantly around Talbot’s long struggle with substance abuse, explored with candour on the strikingly intimate trip hop-overtoned opener MTT 420 RR. “I can feel my spinal cord rip high,” he growls, transporting us deep into the wreckage of the near-fatal car accident that dramatically affected his life.
It’s an event that’s revisited throughout the record, most notably in the savage, slow-building Car Crash, an industrial-leaning showstopper with the noise-laden intensity of juggernauts like Death Grips and Rage Against the Machine. Guitarist and co-producer Mark Bowen says he wanted the track to sound “as violent as possible” to reflect the brutality of the incident, and the results are gut-wrenchingly powerful.
While Idles have always been famous for writing songs that hit you like a brick in the face, there’s welcome variation here – bold social commentary sits alongside quiet self-reflection, and full-throttle rock belters (The Wheel) transition into half-spoken post-punk doomscapes (When the Lights Come On).
Indeed, this album sees Talbot deliver his most confident vocal performance to date. Blues-inspired lead single The Beachland Ballroom is a triumphant example – dubbed “the most important song on the album” by Idles themselves, Talbot swaps his distinctive punk snarl for a haunting, soulful croon, demonstrating an impressive range few would have thought possible from the band’s previous outputs, his anguished cries of “damage” in the track’s closing moments showcasing a new emotional depth.
For those missing the quintet’s trademark chant-along political tirades (think Danny Nedelko or Mr Motivator), The New Sensation should do the job nicely: self-described as a reaction to Rishi Sunak’s suggestion that professional musicians struggling during the pandemic “should retrain”, it’s a glorious, rage-fuelled foot-stomper that harks back to the more upbeat moments of Idles’ back catalogue.
But the most astonishing moment on Crawler comes in the form of Progress, a blissful piece of electronica about hope and realisation that’s full of interweaving voices and soothes in a way no song from this band has come close to before. Perhaps most brilliantly of all, it’s immediately followed by a pummelling 30-second grindcore interlude called Wizz – a reminder that Idles are here to subvert your expectations.
The dark, introspective nature of Idles’ latest release may well disappoint those who love the band for their rabble-rousing, tongue-in-cheek headbangers. But for those who’ve been waiting some time for the beloved Bristolians to take a left turn with their sound, Crawler is an absolute thrill.