Squid are back in town – every time they reappear in the North West, Squid are conquering bigger and bigger rooms, and making even more noise. This time, they return to tour a selection of gear from the new record, Cowards.
Before we’re treated to the main event, sometime Squid collaborator and acclaimed solo artist, Martha Skye Murphy plays out a blinder of a support slot. Weaving gorgeous piano ballads with synth frills and ambient noise, MSM plays out a series of tunes from her recent release, Um. It’s a simply gorgeous selection, with Skye Murphy showing off her impressive vocal range alongside deft fingers on the keyboard. She is stood alone, reading from a notebook and intermittently sipping from a glass of red wine as she performs – it’s not exactly a set that gets people moving and bouncing, but the sheer quality of musicianship and avant-garde daring on display is a sight to behold. The sonic textures and intricate weaving of sound are exceptional, though unfortunately the silence she was afforded at the start of the evening doesn’t last – people are somewhat content to talk all over what she plays, which is a disappointing lack of respect.
Squid hit the stage at 9pm sharp – minimal bells or whistles, the five-piece strides on and takes their respective places behind a series of instruments. ‘Crispy Skin’ from the new record opens proceedings: grooving, snaking and rhythm-driven post-prog sets the tone for the evening. ‘Building 650’ follows, with Squid doing what they do best, curating bizarre, post-industrial, intriguing soundscapes fitting to soundtrack an uber-capitalist dystopia.
The fan favourite, ‘GSK’ from the debut, stands out with an extended percussive and synth-driven breakdown that flows directly into ‘Swing (in a dream)’. The latter track offers a ray of sunshine amid the industrial smog before the atmosphere darkens, becoming broodier and more jazz-infused with ‘Fieldworks I & II’.
There is no doubt that Squid are a sensationally talented group, but the pacing feels a little misguided. There is a significant lull in proceedings during the Fieldworks pieces, as musically intriguing as they are, the Manchester crowd is getting restless and baying for something to pogo to.
‘Cro-Magnon Man’ provides some relief, with its snakey, menacing groove: they create a brilliant, foreboding sound which is quickly followed by ‘Undergrowth’, and people are once again moving and grooving to the avant sounds paraded at the Ritz. ‘Cowards’, again from the new record, closes the main show. Once more it feels as though Squid lose some of the momentum they just recaptured – of course, it’s a musically intriguing piece which lends further credence to the quality of the performers on stage, but its moody, downbeat oeuvre kills the feeling in the room.
They do return though, and all is forgiven with a rousing rendition of ‘Narrator’ from the debut, with a spectacular, hip-shaking groove and brilliantly guttural wailing – it’s a fan favourite for a reason. Squid aren’t done yet, though, and the evening’s ebb and flow contradicts once more. ‘Well Met (Fingers Through the Fence)’ is once again, a kind of downbeat moment to end on.
Squid, by definition, aren’t here to play by any preconceived notions of what a show should be. The band are an entirely different prospect to what they were even one album cycle ago – it’s an entirely more thoughtful, prophetic and challenging experience. As the evening plays out, the picking of Martha Skye Murphy for support makes much more sense, though the impression of the crowd is that they were perhaps hoping for something a little more upbeat.
