Squeeze: Argybargy

I first became aware of Squeeze years ago, when I would troll the aisles of Trac Records, checking to see if Queen had released a new studio album (which, in one case, they did … but that’s for another review). An album that I kept seeing was 45′s And Under, which had a peculiar looking drawing of a drunken man figure, grinning and reaching for an equally squiggly martini. It was odd enough to make a permanent impression on me … and I never bought the album. Fast forward to 2005, when Gorzo and I were at the Rock ‘n’ Roll Hall of Fame and we had just finished the tour of the museum. Naturally, the end of the line led to the souvenir shop, which was racks and racks of CDs, so I opted for some of the stuff that I never had before. One album I picked up was Squeeze’s Greatest Hits, which had a more digestable cover of a cheese grater, a sight chart with “EST” on it, and a boxer getting punched by a boxing glove. I tried listening to the album on the way home, but my ’95 Cavalier lacked air conditioning, so while driving 10 hours with the windows down may be my idea of a good time, it made listening to music difficult.

Recently, I’ve been acquiring a lot of music, and the complete Squeeze discography was one of them. One of the first albums I gravitated towards was East Side Story, because it was produced by Elvis Costello, though two albums that made more of an immediate impression on me were Argybargy and Sweets From A Stranger. Because ‘Pulling Mussels (From A Shell)’ has been stuck in my head for a few days now, I’m going to review the former.

The thing about Squeeze is that they’re so hard to categorize. They came out at the same time as punk became popular, but they lack the spiky edginess that other bands like the Sex Pistols or the Clash (or even Elvis and the Attractions) did. They might be considered New Wave, but they weren’t “cool” enough, like Blondie or the Cars or the Pretenders. I’ve seen them called power pop, and while their songs have an undeniable catchiness to them, the lyrics tell a story as opposed to being merely words to fit the melody, so the whole power pop thing would be doing them a disservice. Glenn Tilbrook and Chris Difford, the band’s core focus and two constant members, are a powerful songwriting team that have been compared to a latter day Lennon/McCartney; with Tilbrook handling the writing of the music and Difford the words, I would call them a nifty amalgam of Paul McCartney’s ear for an excellent melody and Ray Davies’ ability to craft a short story and still make it interesting. There’s a decidedly English twist to the songs, too, reinforced when looking over some of their song titles: ‘Farfisa Beat’, ‘Slap and Tickle’, ‘I Think I’m Go Go’, ‘Vicky Verky’, and so on.

Argybargy is an undisputed classic of power pop (there I go attempting to categorize them again!), and the 11 songs on this album are all good fun. The first two songs, ‘Pulling Mussels (From The Shell)’ and ‘Another Nail In My Heart’, were released as singles, and it’s easy to see why: the choruses are catchy, the rhythms are infectious, and the musicianship is superb. ‘Pulling Mussels’ is married to a twangy guitar riff, while Tilbrook’s angelic voice recalls memories of a Caribbean seaside vacation, where the biggest concern is what dinner will be that night; the chorus, “And I feel like William Tell / Maid Marian on her tiptoe feet / Pulling mussels from a shell” doesn’t make a whole lot of sense, but damn if I can’t get those lines out of my head after I hear it for the first time. Keyboardist Jools Holland, probably more famous for his acclaimed UK talk show Later… With Jools Holland, even shows off his boogie-woogie chops with an enjoyable piano spotlight midway through. ‘Another Nail’, meanwhile, is a little more mature, lyrically, with a quivering Farfisa organ underscoring the lead vocal; the story being told this time is of a man in post-breakup stupor, drowning his sorrows in alcohol. It’s a tale we’ve all heard before, but Difford’s unique spin on it makes it seem refreshing and new.

While Argybargy runs the risk of frontloading its biggest hits and limiting its appeal to those with short attention spans, the other songs are all memorable and should be listened to regardless. ‘Separate Beds’ recalls the frustration of staying the night at a girlfriend’s house for the first time … the only problem is, she still lives with her parents, who have made it abundantly clear that there’s to be absolutely no sugar tonight. ‘Misadventure’, meanwhile, rocks along pretty fast (comparatively, considering these guys are most definitely not a rock band) with a dominant Hammond organ and intertwining guitar lines; Tilbrook is even barely able to get out most of the words without tripping over his tongue. It’s the closest thing to punk on the album. The genre switching continues, with ‘I Think I’m Go Go’, and is a slowish New Wave-esque ballad, with enough studio effects (phasing and backwards instruments) and orchestrated keyboards to make it unique. ‘If I Didn’t Love You’, meanwhile, is another deliberately poppy and upbeat tune, with plenty of bright, ringing acoustic guitars while, once again, Difford sings about another breakup, with the wry couplet, “Singles remind me of kisses / Albums remind me of plans”. (Apparently, this song was so popular in the US, that the running order of the album was restructured to place this song first.)

‘Farfisa Beat’, meanwhile, is the one connection to their past, and is a joyous, if somewhat nonsensical, celebration of music. (Farfisa, for any of you wondering, is a brand of electronic organ that was widely used in the 1960s, notably by the Pharaohs on ‘Wooly Bully’ and Rick Wright on many of Pink Floyd’s early singles. The instrument experienced a resurgence in the late 1970s, and was widely used by bands like Blondie, the B-52s, and, yes, Squeeze.) ‘Here Comes That Feeling’ is a downright curious recording, dominated by rolling drums and spacey synthesizers, while Difford takes over the lead vocal, singing with a droll, monotone delivery that is the very opposite of Tilbrook’s cherubic cords. ‘Vicky Verky’, meanwhile, kicks things up a few notches, and is another joyous pop-rock track with a shuffling drum beat and sprightly acoustic guitars. The mock harpsichord solo reminds me very much of the Monkees ‘The Girl I Knew Somewhere’. This could have been a hit in its own right, but apparently four singles pulled from the album was just about enough.

The Tamla/Motown-inspired ‘Wrong Side Of The Moon’ is the only song here to be written by Holland and Difford, and is enjoyable, if not a little slight. Holland takes the lead vocal here, and it’s easy to see that while he may have been a supremely talented keyboardist, the singing was better left to Difford and Tilbrook; not that it’s particularly bad, but one song per album is just fine, thankyouverymuch. Shortly after this album, Holland would depart, and while his offbeat, quirky persona would translate well to television, Squeeze would go through keyboardists as often as Spinal Tap went through drummers. ‘There At The Top’ closes out the album, and rhythmically sounds like an attempt to out-’Pump It Up’ ‘Pump It Up’, though the production is a little too tinny, with an emphasis on the vocals and guitar instead of the bass and drums; not that that’s a detriment, because, as mentioned, Squeeze isn’t a rock band, and excells in their fluffy pop sensibilities. Argybargy would undoubtedly be the last true pop album they would record; subsequent albums were a little darker, with more maturity in the lyrics. But for the casual Squeeze fan hoping to expand beyond the introductory greatest hits compilation, Argybargy is the logical next step, and the perfect way to understand what Squeeze was all about.

Essential listening: Pulling Mussels (From The Shell), Another Nail In My Heart, Separate Beds, Vicky Verky, If I Didn’t Love You, There At The Top