It never went away—but some would have you believe the UK is in the throes of a(nother) post-punk revival. After glutting on glorified Joy Division impersonators Protomartyr, Preoccupations and Interpol, we’ve decided to show those Yankee doodle twats how it’s done by spending half a decade creating our own insipid tribute acts to The Fall.
It’s hard to resist post-punk buzz-band fatigue. Is the industry trying to frack primordial punk ooze from some deep and forgotten cultural fissure, every few months picking a name from their raffle to herald as the New Saviours of this tired and ancient genre? Maybe it just feels that way. I put off listening to Squid for a little while because I’d been overcome by the terrifying thought they’d be as shit as all their peers. Thankfully they’re actually alright.
Bright Green Field is lighter and more psychedelic than most modern post-punk. Rather than swaggering around holding its dick in both hands like a pump-action shotgun, this album revels in eccentricity, gentle humour, and not-too-out-there experimentation. Squid channel the likes of XTC and Talking Heads, with a joyful and associative approach to songwriting. In a musical landscape dominated by depressive diet-Deathconsciousnesses and posturing pricks, the easiness and confident simplicity of Bright Green Field is properly refreshing. It’s like finally being allowed a Sprite after being forced to drink nothing but Coke for months.
The best representation of this is in the album’s (very strong) vocals. There’s no affectation of an Estuary accent to bait the 6 Music crowd. It actually feels as though Squid are trying to make good music, instead of just engaging in some kind of elaborate prank that only people within a five-mile radius of central London would understand.
Squid are unpretentious and self-aware enough to limit their goals. They aren’t trying to invert the world’s power structures using big riffs and cool shirts— nor do they waste your time screaming Hackneyed (har har) platitudes—but they still have enough bite to justify the inclusion of lyrics in their music. Their music feels spontaneous and eccentric—but respects listeners too much to blow smoke up its own bum. Definitely worth a go.
Bright Green Field is available for purchase and streaming here.
Words: Andrew O’Keefe