Bright Green Field Squid

Brighton five-piece Squid are key players in the emerging South London scene, where astute post-punk blends seamlessly with a multitude of genres, guiding UK guitar music down a refreshing new path. On their debut album, Bright Green Field, the band take characteristics from krautrock, dub, funk, and jazz to form a sound that is remarkably coherent and wholly distinct. It’s chaotic, but it works.

Jittery guitar lines are propelled by bouncy post-punk rhythms, whilst vocalist Ollie Judge barks his way through a series of nervous thoughts about capitalism and other such joys of modern life. This foundation keeps Bright Green Field on track, and I dare say it’s what the band are best at. “Boy Racers” is an example of what happens when things go a little too off-piste. After three minutes of groovy basslines and delightful guitar licks, the track fizzles into an avant-garde ambient piece. The experimental noise is immersive and compelling by the end, but it takes an unnecessary amount of time to get there. I’d bet it’s quite mesmerising live. Unfortunately, it feels flat on record.

On the other hand, lead single “Narrator” is an absolute triumph. It’s by far and away the best example of what the band are capable of. It’s a sonic journey that travels through multiple musical segments, similar to what’s heard on albums like OK Computer and The Moon and Antarctica. However, it does also highlight my main issue with Bright Green Field as a whole. Martha Skye Murphy’s shrieking guest vocals are haunting, adding an entirely new dimension to the record. It’s amazing how much of a difference another voice makes to the music. I’ve never taken any issues with Judge’s vocal style before, but on an album lasting almost an hour his yelping can become tiring. It’s something I’d like to see the band experiment with in the future.

Overall, Bright Green Field is a bold and satisfying debut album. A few eyebrows were raised when it was announced to be released on Warp Records, but the music totally fits the profile. It’s ambitious, varied, and explorative. Most importantly, it’s fun to listen to. Bright Green Field is far from perfect – and I probably prefer Black Country, New Road’s record if we’re getting into mundane comparisons – but it hints at incredible promise. The way in which the band so naturally shape-shift is astonishing. If they can refine certain aspects of their sound, I’m certain that Squid will end up as one of the most compelling bands on the planet. Not to get carried away, of course…

I like the bit where the singer repeats himself
I like the bit where the singer repeats himself
I LIKE the BIT where the singer REPEATS HIMSELF
I LIKE the BIT where the singer REPEATS HIMSELF
I LIKE THE BIT WHERE THE SINGER REPEATS HIMSELF
I LIKE THE BIT WHERE THE SINGER REPEATS HIMSELF
HIMSELF
HIMSELF 
HIMSELF

Squid’s debut has been characterised as ‘weird and wonderful’ by some, which is as confusing as it is perturbing. Such labels confine Squid to left-of-field, marking it as experimental and inaccessible. Instead, with Bright Green Field, Squid joins the likes of Black Country, New Road in producing something new and long overdue in guitar music. Far from weird or inaccessible, you’ll find a melting pot of influences you already know and love.

“Narrator” brings this melting pot to the fore. Blaring horns, agitated guitars, satisfying interplay between Martha Skye Murphy and Ollie Judge, and a whirlwind crescendo to bring the whole affair home make for a fantastic ride. Here and across the album, it’s easy to draw comparisons to some class acts. Strong tinges of Talking Heads and Radiohead flutter throughout, but Ollie Judge’s energetic, chatty vocal gives the album a punkish swagger. Combine that with a horn section that holds its own, marrying beautifully with synths in “Documentary Filmmaker” and adding a confident funk to opener, “G.S.K”, and it’s hard to keep my head from nodding along throughout.

However, there are moments in the tracklist that do flirt with experimentation, potentially giving some credence to the ‘weird and wonderful’ assessment. “Boy Racers” diverts its latter half into an evolving haze, with ghostly voices and swerving noises. I could easily imagine these extended interludes would be tense, palpable moments in a live setting, and that’s an experience I’m raring to be a part of, but on record they feel less suspenseful and more protracted than they should.

Bright Green Field isn’t a jaw-dropping, top marks album right out the gate for Squid, but that shouldn’t do it any disservice. Instead, this is a thoroughly enjoyable romp and another exciting debut for 2021. The band’s energy on record is sure to translate to a raucous live performance, and until I can catch that, I’ll certainly be returning to this record for more.