While contemporaries Dry Cleaning find the absurdity in modern life and make poetry out of it, Brighton/London band Squid cover similar territory only to tear it all down. The group's debut album, Bright Green Field, out tomorrow via Warp, is both brave and empty in equal measure. For every portion here that feels as if Squid were discovering something new and embracing it, there are other moments that are simply chaos put to tape. For those who groove on that sort of thing, there may be lots to like here. For others, it may feel as if this has been done before. At least some of it.
For anyone who's played an album from The Young Knives, Art Brut, the previously mentioned Dry Cleaning, Pere Ubu, or The Pop Group, lots of Bright Green Field will not feel entirely new. The group's intent on destroying so much, laying waste to the actual forms themselves, that it's hard to love Bright Green Field except in an abstract, intellectual way. The epic "Pamphlets" and "Narrator" descend into shouty chaos, while the equally lengthy "Boy Racers" takes that kind of thing and adds an actual hook. It's faintly reminiscent of The Young Knives at their best, though that comparison might irritate those who view Squid as a more serious proposition.
And while Bright Green Field is admirably iconoclastic, it's not too pretentious about it. Things are lively here, even if they're nonsensical in spots, with some selections ("Paddling" and "Global Groove", for example) nudging up against melodies that are almost soothing in short bursts. Lots of what's here is, of course, just clattering art rock, but when they hit a a riff and ride it into the sun, Squid achieve a nice synthesis of prog-influenced contemporary indie and post-punk. Like I said, listen to this with your brain, not your heart first and things will make more sense.
Bright Green Field is out tomorrow via Warp.
More details on Squid via the band's official Facebook page.
[Photo: Holly Whitaker]