Luke Greenwood   •   2019

Joe Talbot’s body is covered in equal parts tattoos and pastel flowers. He brutishly strides across the stage and kisses each of his fellow bandmates on the lips. His eyes go wide as he screams into a microphone “love yourself!”. He is simultaneously the answer to the liberal belief that men must redefine how they express masculinity, and the misinformed conservative fear that trying to erase toxic masculinity is making men “weak”. Talbot is the frontman and lyricist for IDLES, an English post-punk band tackling issues of gender and discrimination in today’s polarizing political landscape. IDLES’s 2018 album, “Joy as an act of resistance.”, affirms the perception of punk culture as a force for disseminating progressive ideas, and challenges toxic masculine social regulations in a unique way by reconciling the seemingly opposed traits of aggression and empathy.

“Joy as an act of resistance.” builds on a history of socially progressive punk culture to address issues currently being brought into the international spotlight. Even the simple word, “unity!”, shouted at the very end of the album, carries immense historical baggage. To fully understand the complexity of how IDLES has attempted to situate themselves in a new wave of punk and post-punk artists, I must first discuss the history of political punk music. The political roots of punk music were influenced in a large part from reggae and ska which was being brought to England punk venues by DJs like Don Letts (Leigh). Look no further than The Clash’s 1977 debut and one will find that reggae and punk had become inseparable from very early in the genre’s history. This musical import from Jamaica to England gave birth to second wave ska bands like The Specials and The Beat who drew from the energy and attitude of punk music to redefine ska’s carefree musicality. Similarly, punk groups began to employ ska/reggae’s lyrical and sonic qualities to further their agenda of protesting hate. In this way ska/reggae tunes like Desmond Dekker’s “Unity” (1969) became translated over time into punk classics like Operation Ivy’s “Unity” (1989). Because punk often employs blatantly offensive imagery and language, is used to express aggression, and is used to provoke anger from listeners, over time punk culture has repeatedly been misappropriated to directly or indirectly promote racism, misogyny, and hypermasculinity. Examples of this include the nazi punk movement which began in the mid 1970s (Leigh & Knopper) and the long history of females being excluded from punk venues and media (Richardson). Even Tim Armstrong, who played lead guitar on songs like Operation Ivy’s “Unity” and “Plea For Peace” would later be caught in progressive hypocrisy when he signed “one of the most notoriously homophobic figures in reggae and dancehall music” (Topping), Buju Banton, to his record label. Each of these movements towards hatred and discrimination in punk culture have historically been met with a counter-movement of equal or greater force. In the 1980s, popular punk groups like Dead Kennedys and Bad Brains wrote songs that deplored nazi punks, and the venues attempted to rid their audiences of hate groups (although, the means of doing so often involved characteristically hypermasculine counter-violence). In the 1990s, female punk groups like Bikini Kill and Bratmobile spearheaded the “Riot Grrrl” movement, which confronted sexism in the punk scene and opened new spaces for female punk artists. Today, IDLES is at the center of a new wave of punk artists who also seek to reclaim the genre’s pro-unity roots by directly confronting the issue of toxic masculinity. IDLES progresses the agendas of these aforementioned pro-equality punk counter-movements by filling in what previous artists had failed to address: why men discriminate, harass, abuse, and abandon. In this way, “unity!” becomes a rallying cry for a return to form, the album’s one word manifesto.

In order to create his argument for unity, Talbot begins by disrupting stereotypes surrounding various stigmatized groups. Specifically, I will address how Talbot draws a connection between homosexuality and aggression to challenge society’s problematic perception of queer men as strictly effeminate. In the very first verse of the album, Talbot sets up this theme by referring to himself with the adjectives, “tender, violent, and queer”. Listeners are made to reconcile three traditionally incongruent ideas: gentleness, aggression, and homosexuality. By labeling himself with these words, Talbot challenges the assumption that homosexuality and aggression are mutually exclusive and calls to mind all of the people who may be excluded by this confining stereotype. Later in the song, Talbot once again references himself, shouting “I’m like Stone Cold Steve Austin / I put homophobes in coffins… I’m like Reggie Kray”. This references both a 2014 interview where professional wrestler, Steve Austin, came out in support of same-sex marriage with an angry and cuss-filled rant, and a 1998 match where Steve Austin buried his opponent in a coffin. Steve Austin, who may appear at first glance to be the face of hegemonic masculinity (ex: muscular, rich, outspoken, past history of steroid use and assault, has a career based on physical dominance, etc.) exhibits in this instance that these outward projections of power can transform into, and co-exist with, acceptance. In addition, one can remain open minded about masculinity without rejecting all aspects of it. In other words, toxic masculinity is not a vindication of all things traditionally thought of as “masculine”, but rather the parts of masculinity which exclude others (ex: homophobia). For a similar effect, Talbot also associates himself with one of the Kray brothers, Reggie Kray. The Kray brothers were bisexual mob-bosses who terrorized London’s East Side during the 1940s and 50s. By identifying with Kray, Talbot once again challenges the stereotype that queer men are passive and weak. These two famous names prove that categories like “accepting”, “aggressor”, and “homosexual” are not mutually exclusive. Because of this, listeners are forced to re-negotiate their perceptions of the relationship between personality, gender, and sexuality.

While using these cultural examples to disprove narrow definitions of masculinity, Talbot rejects all predefined notions of what it means to be a man with the repeated background vocals, “I don’t want to be your man”. This is a message of empowerment, stating that – for better or for worse – nobody can define your gender except for you. This holds true even if your definition of masculinity resides within traditionally incongruent intersections, like Steve Austin or Reggie Kray. On the contrary, the word “want” only suggests a desire to define gender for oneself. This ambiguity highlights men’s active role in deciding whether to define gender for themselves, or simply accept the constrictions of hegemonic masculinity.

The usage of Steve Austin and Reggie Kray, who embody both violent hypermasculine pasts (abuse, assault, and murder) and progressive ideals, marks an important shift in the history of punk culture. The dark histories that these figures embody complicate the narrative of punk as a progressive movement, and act as a stand in for the culture as a whole as it once again attempts to reconcile these opposing forces. Because these names are used by Talbot reflexively, listeners are reminded of the contested pasts found within the history of the genre itself. Despite Austin and Kray’s problematic histories, the specificity with which they are mentioned – as rejections of masculine stereotypes – frames them in a hopeful way. In this way their inclusion serves as both an admonition of hypermasculinity within punk music, and a beacon of hope that a new wave of punk musicians can transform this past into an inclusive present.

Specifically, Talbot critiques hegemonic masculinity and heteronormativity as inherently exclusionary social phenomena by calling attention to their pervasiveness and suggesting the bodies that they ignore. Talbot argues that heteronormative structures can be found in most every aspect of our society down to the way that we greet our family members. At the climax of the song, “Samaritans”, Talbot riffs on Katy Perry by singing “I kissed a boy and I liked it”. By changing the gender referenced in this popular lyric, Talbot provokes the listener to critically examine the social and sexual standards associated with gender. If a listener is made uncomfortable by the lyric, they are then forced to ask themselves why that is. Even if a listener is not made uncomfortable, Talbot’s lyric asks the question, why is there a lack of pop songs featuring similar instances of male homosexuality? In both cases, the lyric serves to confront societal discomfort with displays of affection between men. Reading this instance of “kissing” as a non-sexual act, this line may reference Joe Talbot’s tradition of kissing his bandmates before every show. This ritual in tandem with the lyric, draws attention to the heteronormative standard that men can kiss their female partners, friends, and family members, but are conditioned not to do the same with their male equivalents. Talbot argues that widespread heteronormativity functions both to exclude homosexual men from mainstream representation, such as in pop music, and limit the ways in which men can express affection.

In addition, Talbot critiques patriarchy as a problematic and pervasive power imbalance that can be found in the most rudimentary elements of our social interactions. In a line from the track “Television”, Talbot sings “I spoke to God in my dreams last night / She said I’d go to heaven if my teeth was white”. Continuing his strategy of gender reversal, by changing the pronoun he uses to refer to God, Talbot illuminates how gendered power dynamics are embedded at even the most core foundations of our communication. The long tradition of referring to God with male pronouns is perhaps the penultimate example of how men are unmarked and women are marked in language (“man” refers to all people, however “wo-man” only refers to females). In other words, men are regarded as the “default” and women are regarded as the “other”. By referring to God as one would a man, one subconsciously reinforces the standard that men are, or should be, given the positions of highest power. In both “Samaritans” and “Television”, Talbot uses gender reversal to illuminate how society has a preconceived notion of what is normal – and therefore privileged – and what is outside of the norm – and therefore disadvantaged.

Talbot argues that the hegemonic standards of masculinity which sustain heteronormativity and the patriarchy have drastic negative effects on people of all genders within a given society. In the middle of the album is Talbot’s most direct confrontation of toxic masculinity. The song, “Samaritans” begins with a chant-like flurry of hypermasculine doctrine: “Man up, sit down / Chin up, pipe down / Socks up, don’t cry / Drink up, just lie / Grow some balls, he said…”. The repetitive meter of these lyrics and their demanding tone imply a strictness which is made explicit in the pre chorus, “the mask of masculinity is a mask that’s wearing me”. Here, Talbot uses the double meaning of “wear” to argue that not only are the demands of being emotionally repressive (“pipe down… don’t cry… just lie”) damaging to men, but these burdens actually strip away pieces of their individuality. Talbot analyzes how the ingrained social restrictions associated with manhood both hide the true individual underneath, as a mask does, and also begin to dictate how that man is forced to portray himself (“wearing me”). As a result, men blindly “act out” toxic masculinity. The effect of this is given even wider scope during the chorus, “This is why you never see your father cry / This is why you never see your father…”. Talbot observes that the emotional suppression supported by these gender regulations are passed down generationally. This translates into absence and even abandonment, impacting the entirety of the family unit. In this way, Talbot shows how toxic masculinity’s negative impacts start at the individual and permeate out into the larger society.

Albums like these are vitally important to youth counterculture and political activism, in that they can disseminate nuanced political ideas to an audience who is attempting to solve vast social problems. By assuming a unique feminist male perspective, “Joy as an act of resistance.” pushes dialogues around masculinity into a fresh frontier and beckons the listener to remain skeptical of the problematic social structures that pervade everyday life. IDLES’s critique of gender norms re-affirms punk music’s position as a politically progressive cultural force, and reinforces the genre’s modern relevance. The poignancy with which IDLES’s music contributes to a larger global conversation displays the importance of punk as means to interpret the world’s discord and offer a timely response that is equal parts anger and love.