Roaring in from London, Squid combine post-punk, art-punk, straight-up punk, no wave, jazz, and probably five other genres they enjoy into a cool, quirky record – Bright Green Field.
After a brief instrumental opener (“Resolution Square”), the album bops and funks with “G.S.K.” Saxophone honks, psychedelic bass, bright synths, and processed drums mix as Ollie Judge sings about the travails of staying up all night and getting into a car wreck. “I tried real hard. I think I made it up,” they say at the beginning of “Narrator.” The bass and guitar on it dance all over the place in it as the song explores taking control of one’s life amid external forces trying to control every aspect of what we consume. The song evolves into a wild, Pink Floyd-like psychedelic freak-out complete with Martha Skye Murphy screaming like she’s in a horror film one moment and in orgasmic throes the next.
You’re completely impressed with Laurie Nankivell‘s bass work by the time you get to “Boy Racers.” He has a way of playing that almost sounds like he’s doing whatever the hell he wants but yet fitting in perfectly with what the rest of the band is doing. The song becomes a weird, psychedelic, synth-heavy trip about halfway through its length, and I’m all for it. The build-up at the beginning of “Padding” is outstanding, as the band sings / chants, “Patient and in control…Dig holes like a mole…Patient and oars in stow…Just do what you’re told.” Louis Borlase and Anton Pearson chug out post-punk guitar stabs over Judge’s racing heartbeat drums when the song kicks into high gear.
“Documentary Filmmaker” has strange, warped horns and is pretty much a free-flow jazz tune, which makes sense when you consider that the members of Squid bonded over ambient jazz. “2010” is a crazy, prog-rock-inspired track that bounces back and forth between Arthur Leadbetter‘s spacey jazz keyboards and the rest of his bandmates playing proto-funk to wild cymbal crashes from Judge and crazy guitar swells from Borlase and Pearson.
“Where were you when the ice came to town? Where were you when the ice came around? You don’t remember? You don’t remember!”, Judge sings / yells on “Perry St.” – a song that could be about turning a blind eye to bigotry, but don’t quote me on that. I can tell you for certain that it’s a rocker, however. They don’t hold back much, even when the song hits the brakes and becomes a simmering pot of jazz / prog / post-punk stew. “I’m so sick and tired of dancing,” Judge proclaims on “Global Groove.” It’s interesting that he would write that lyric in the last year or so, when none of us could go out dancing and were doing all our dancing in the kitchen, while doing laundry, or with our pets as somewhat-reluctant partners. The song samples canned laughter and the guitars seem to be crying one moment and yawning the next – summing up the groove the entire globe has been in for a long time. Judge acknowledges this pandemic funk further on the closing track, “Pamphlets.” He growls about not wanting to leave the house, or even needing to thanks to all the pamphlets left on his doorstep claiming everything can be brought to him – food, entertainment, you name it. He’s become a hermit due to forces beyond his control, but he’s not sure if he wants to re-emerge into the world (“Legs still, but the herd is in motion.”). Squid predicted “re-entry anxiety” before it became a buzzword.
Squid predicted, and confronts, a lot of 2021 angst on Bright Green Fields. It’s one of the sharpest albums of the year so far.
Keep your mind open.
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[Thanks to Jessica at Pitch Perfect PR.]
