Squeeze

Jim Drury, Chris & Glenn at the book signing at Borders, Charing Cross Rd, London.

Jim, Glenn & Rich Hall

'DIFFORD, CHRIS, TILBROOK, GLENN & DRURY, JIM'
'SQUEEZE: SONG BY SONG (BOOK)'

- Label: 'SANCTUARY PUBLISHING (www.sanctuarypublishing.com)'
- Genre: 'Rock' - Release Date: '15th November 2004'

Our Rating:
Author JIM DRURY has written two previous in-depth career retrospectives in the "Song By Song" format, with the subjects of these being the lengthy and mercurial careers sustained by Ian Dury & The Blockheads and The Stranglers respectively.

For his third tome, Drury has opted for another of the UK's most enduring new wave acts and the superb, but often fractious songwriting partnership between CHRIS DIFFORD and GLENN TILBROOK which lasted all of twenty-five years and survived numerous bust-ups and reunions en route.

Stylistically, the book is something of an amalgam of the two separate approaches Drury employed when writing his two previous books. His Ian Dury book was written in biographical style while his Stranglers' "Song By Song" was constructed entirely as a dialogue between the author and the band's original singer/ guitarist Hugh Cornwell.   This time, Drury interviewed both Tilbrook and Difford at some length and intersperses their detailed comments on the respective Squeeze albums with some historical context. The end results are (in the author's words) "a hybrid breed rather than a mongrel" but it's an approach that tells the story of Squeeze's roller coaster career ride to nigh-on perfection.

With hindsight, Drury's decision to interview Glenn and Chris separately was surely a masterstroke. As a result, both men are entirely candid about their respective successes and failures and open up in a way that perhaps they would have been unable to do if they'd been in the same room together. However, even though the pair's relationship was at a very low ebb following the debacle that was Squeeze's final album "Domino" (1998), they speak with great warmth about what each other brought to the table in creating the band's best songs.   The conversation is littered with stuff like : "Glenn's vocal is just supreme" ("Points Of View") and "It's one of Chris's lyrics where I see exactly the same pictures in my mind whenever I hear it" ("Piccadilly") and you soon begin to understand the almost telepathic way the pair worked professionally even when they were on less than fantastic terms on a personal level.

This being Squeeze, the likes of Gilson Lavis, Paul Carrack and of course the irrepressible Jools Holland also play significant parts in the band's musical development and all have their personal issues along the way. Those of us familiar with the stylish, urbane Holland who presents "Later" may be surprised and delighted by the stories of the longhair with biker tendencies who joined up with the fledgling band in Greenwich circa 1974 with those gifted, boogie-woogie pianist's fingers already finely tuned and ready for action.

Difford and Tilbrook are - as you might expect - gifted raconteurs, but equally candid about their own failures as well as the glorious success of the band's early chart-topping years. Some of the anecdotes are truly hilarious such as Difford discussing his disgust at Tilbrook's use of the ochorena on the song "Stranger Than The Stranger On The Shore" (Chris: "We fell out hugely over that bloody thing. Whenever I came into the room it would always be there. Somewhere visual just to piss me off. I used to think when he went out of the room I would take it and lob it in the Thames"). As you might expect, both of them are brilliant at one-liners as well. A good example is when Drury discusses the song "Tempted" with Difford, who suggests that being in a band is like "being in the merchant navy...there are women of easy virtue and you have to behave yourself or go home with a guilty conscience, or worse - the pox."   Drury pushes on by saying "what did you go home with?" to which Difford answers: "A huge bunch of flowers and a guilty conscience". Genius.

The book also unearths some revelations which are darker than certainly this writer would have imagined. Songs such as "Tough Love", "The Truth" and "There Is A Voice" themselves may give you some clues to the alcoholic depths Difford was plumbing before he finally turned himself in for rehab in 1992, but I was truly surprised to read of Tilbrook's brief, but potentially deadly flirtation with heroin around the time of his destructive first marriage in the mid-1980s. To their credit, neither man shies away from describing his personal battle and the fact both got through and turned the corner is a testament to their strength of character.

"Squeeze: Song By Song", then, is something of a full-blown success. Factual, anecdotal and simply a thrilling read, Jim Drury brings out the best in the two men often dubbed "the new Lennon & McCartney" in the past. That particular tag may be spurious, but nonetheless even the casual reader will soon realise there's far more to Squeeze than simply "Cool For Cats" and "Up The Junction" and that after gorging themselves silly on this book, they'll want to start filling in the gaps in their Squeeze collection.

Oh, and if you were wondering why Jools rarely entertains John Cale in the "Later" studio, then may I suggest you read the chapter about the making of Squeeze's eponymous debut album. Trust me: you won't be disappointed.
   author: TIM PEACOCK

PLAY ON

he wants to be glorified
and swallowed in fame
he wants to be a hero
like kurt cobain
playing his guitar
with it hung round his knees
the tour bus syndrome
the touring disease

he stands like a soldier
he's ready to charge
the young girls he sleeps
with are all a mirage
he wants to be wanted
but doesn't know why
reality curtains
block out a blue sky

play on play on and eat up the sun
pop up to london and soak up the fun
play on play on with gathering speed
its saturday night
as the ears start to bleed

he wants to be famous
and fall when he's young
climbing up ladders
without any rungs
ill in the morning
and wasted all day
looking demented
with not much to say

he pulls out a woman
from under his bed
her eyes are like cherries
that spin in her head
if he hits the jackpot
he's in the top ten

BONKERS

i know that i'm bonkers
stupidity conquers
forgive me i know not what i do
the cunning behaviour
takes up every acre
of emotional cage in the zoo

you know how it goes
the volcano blows
eruptions hold the duvet down
the words on the lips
the sticking out ribs
as i try to push my weight around

i'm sorry please witness
this act of forgiveness
it's all i can do for her to see
that i was the sad case
a mouse in the rat race
wont somebody pass me the cheese

the size of her breasts
like woodpeckers nests
would comfort me on winter nights
the brains in my pants
create milli amps
of pleasure with seconds of delight

i'm bonkers believe me
a frederic fellini
i'm swinging on the windmills of my mind
where i have been ground down
i'm still walking down town
i'm leaving all this madness behind

laid back on the couch
with me the old slouch
for an oscar on the silent screen
there's no time to waste
as i fill my fat face
with a pizza slice and custard cream

i'm sorry i hurt you
i'm bonkers believe me

WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?

what's wrong with this picture
her eyes are like moons
its just like looking
in two empty rooms
she's looking so fragile
as thin as an eel
what's wrong with this picture
what does it reveal

beauty speaks
there's so much to say
tell me what's wrong with this picture today

what's wrong with this picture
she's lighter than air
life seems to be happening
but she is not there
the late night temptation
the eyes on her skin
what's wrong with this picture
there's nobody in

what's wrong with this picture
location withdrawn
its empty without you
your face so forlorn

shake yourself
sweep your head away
tell me what's wrong with this picture today

DOMINO

i knew that i had drunk too much
i had passed my drink degree
i climbed into my rented car
i was happy as could be
then i pulled out of the driveway
and the lights began to blur
within a mile the car was stopped
by a police officer she said
'did you see the light was red?
did you see the light at all?
' then i fell into her open arms
and that's all that i recall

i knew that i had danced before
but it never made the news
surprised to find my two left feet
in john travolta's shoes
i hogged the space around a girl
i found so full of verve
then i moved in slowly for the kill
and watched her body swerve,she said
'did you know i'm not impressed
with the way you dance at all'
then i fell into her open arms
and that's all that i recall

blacked out and wasted
i had to be persuaded
with my view a little jaded
that i was about to go
down like a domino

i knew that i had said too much
but tact was not my way
tears were on her bottom lip
she had nothing more to say
except 'did you know this love we have
has made me feel so small
then i fell into her open arms
and that's all that i recall

TO BE A DAD

i lost the children
but they can be found
home in a red house just across town
sitting in boxes of opened up toys
watching the simpson's
and making some noise
i lost the children
but they're in great hands
when i cook the dinners
right out of tin cans

i lost the children
and i have to pay
some heavy duty on life everyday
cupboards need filling
with deadlines to meet
here in my cheque book
my fountain pen weeps
i should be thankful
and thankful am i
i went to the cleaners
and came back with my life

for a moment it all looked so grim
it looked like i would not get a thing
for a moment it all looked so sad
but now its so good to be a dad

i lost the children
they haven't lost me
we're still together
and happy to be
out in the summer
on beaches in parks
home in the winter
and up with the larks
i should be thankful
and thankful am i
i went to the cleaners
and came back with my life

from pushchairs to games of football
my back was against every wall
for a moment it all looked so sad
but now it's so good to be a dad

for a moment it all looked so grim
it looked like i would not get a thing
for a moment it all looked so bad
but now its so good to be a dad

i lost the children
they haven't lost me

DONKEYTALK

donkey talk
i can hear the donkey talk
words chained out in a line
loads of reason not much rhyme
finger drumming beats behind
donkey talk most of the time

the conversation peters out
so you stare down at your shoes
there's not much more to talk about
when the silence is confused
then our eyes suddenly meet
and we choose to look away
that's just where we are today

there's no sense in hanging round
but we stand there all the same
you find a verb i pluck a noun
as the patience starts to strain
then our words suddenly clash
as if there's so much to say
that's just where we are today

we used to stay up all night
with our eyes all bloodshot and wonky
we would hold each other tight
and talk the back legs off a donkey
but now i'm wearing it's hat
we can't even laugh at that

SLEEPING WITH A FRIEND

hand me a tissue
hand me your hand
i feel like crying please understand
i have been foolish
i crossed that line
that borders friendship
in this bed of mine

we slept together
and it felt so wrong
now i know forever
that that friendship has gone

she wore the night shirt
you would have worn
if you'd been there
if i had've tried
to stop myself acting
like i chose to do
is this the end
need we pretend
i slept with a friend
and hurt you

hand me your pencil
hand me your heart
i feel like writing where do i start
we drank together and jumped into bed
i had the pleasure
then i lost my friend

we slept together
and the guilt's so strong
now i know forever
that that friendship has gone

WITHOUT YOU HERE

i feel so empty
as the plane takes off
i see the ground below
i know that one day
it won't be long
that you will also know
just how it feels
to leave you now
a hollow shell
a broken bow

i feel so empty
high up in the air
where heaven's meant to be
the distance gets me
when i'm on my own
without you here with me

my world is turning
but it's upside down
now you're so far away
while you are learning
how this world spins round
i'm in some other day
what can i do
but give my heart
from far away
a distant spark

I feel a challenge
for both you and I
that's how it has to be
in life there's balance
I hope time will fly
without you here with me

What I am hoping for
as life moves on
and we reach finer years
we wont be thinking
of the time that's gone
or wading through our tears
we'll smile as one
and speak with pride
how life has swung
back on our side

i feel tomorrow
can't come by too soon
to bring you back to see
that love will follow
like the red balloon
and you'll come home to me
i want you here with me

IN THE MORNING

in the morning
it is raining
and umbrellas block the pavement
in the caf�
people waking
with a cigarette and coffee
and she sits there with her paper
half asleep into a picture
in the morning

in the morning
it's all over
that's another night of business
with the punters
on the corner
of estates around the river
and she adds up all the takings
hid behind her wilting paper
in the morning

in the morning
soaked in bath oil
dressed in pink towels
and a sweater
looking out at all the people
walking under their umbrellas
in the morning
there's a feeling
of resentment and expectance
it's a fear that comes with working
on the dark streets for a living

she's attending
to her wet hair
at the window in the evening
getting ready in a short skirt
with her stockings around her ankles
its a flame that gets attention
in a darkness without light
and the children need a cuddle
as she walks into the light
of the morning

A MOVING STORY

she moved from clapham
and didn't look back
her life was changed in an instant
the van was filled up
and tied to the rack
her home that now seemed so distant
kissing goodbye
to her friends on the stairs
she felt a loss deep within her
sat in the front seat
with stuff everywhere
the neighbours said they would ring her

they moved to the sea front
and loved their new view
of tides coming in on the shingle
she and her daughter
found new things to do
at last it was good to be single
and in the summer
the place came alive
lights on the pier in the evening
the fresh sea air
you could cut with a knife
such a wonderful feeling

she worked in a pub
where bands would appear
on a tiny stage in the corner
she watched them load in
with tattered old gear
the place would get like a sauna
london had gone now
her new life was strong
she found herself a new karma
she fell for a man
who played with a band
and took her life from it's drama

she moved from clapham
and didn't look back
the past was neatly extinguished
he was much younger
but she lived with that
he struggled hard with his english
she felt his loving
and proudly reclaimed
all of the warmth she'd been lacking
they lay in bed
looking out at the rain
no more moving or packing

she moved from clapham
and didn't look back
her life had changed in an instant

LITTLE KING

when the little king
rode on his horse
into the darkened wood
no one believed
that he'd return
they thought he'd gone for good
as he looked down to see the lake
he found a secret key
the little king he couldn't wait
and he rode off nervously

in a stolen car
on busy streets
he spun the leather wheel
he was burning
oil in second gear
as the tyres loudly squealed
and the bouncers on the kerb
jumped right out of the way
he smashed into a superstore
and he didn't feel a thing
just a quiet night where the fun begins
for the little king

once life was merry going round
then time began to rub
the future looked as clear as day
but it quickly turned to mud
it stuck to him like glue
what can anybody do
for the little king
for the little king

now the little king
is locked away
to mix with the elite
in the doghouse now
he learns new tricks
from other pedigrees
its small town front page news
the fairy tale young king
has scratched his head looking for clues
he found splinters there
but one day soon the latch will swing
for the little king

SHORT BREAK

he raped her with his eyes the minute she walked into the office
as she stretched to hang her coat behind the door he beamed a smile so big
she could have filled it with helium and flown off across the countryside
he tried very hard to invite her out for lunch
but like most women she could sense the underlying note of danger
her instincts kept him at a safe distance
and then he made her a cup of coffee
and the steam rose across her face

it could be you it could be me
we'll have to wait we'll have to see
its all for sale now that its time
to take a short break

the sensation of safely driving like a little boy ambition
going around and around the mountain side makes a woman mad for attention
she hides the car keys he turns the place upside down he looks out the window
to see her driving off in the distance a cloud of country dust feathers the sunlight as she smiles into the windscreen all he can do is fold a coin through his fingers

it could be you it could be me
we'll have to wait well have to see
its all for sale now that its time
to take a short break

there she is again this time with a pair of jeans being pulled slowly up over the curves of her body
he plays guitar in the rocking chair they are the jeans of our fore fathers
these are the jeans of the 21st century this is the new world where television and eye become one as we look down the digital telescope into the future and now its time for a short break

it could be you it could be me
we'll have to wait well have to see
its all for sale now that its time
its lighter than air whiter than white
draft in a can the price is right
save as you go the drive of your life
its good to talk we say hello
we say goodbye deep frozen days
it could be you it could be me
its all for sale now that its time
to take a short break