By rights the 90s generation of Northern indie rock Gods should indeed have run out of steam by now. There are plenty of mid life crises out there, buried under costly string sections, but Squire appears to be an exception. Stepping out from behind his guitar (which he guillotines in the video) the former Roses frethead comes on like a frothing poet escaping from Guitar Workshop Hell. In a pleasingly curdled accent, he spits lyrics about climbing mountains and pre-war heavweight boxers over the kind of tumbling riffs not heard since peak period Roses. The re-born, railing, fiery and focussed Squire is one old heavyweight the new contenders don’t need to elbow from the ring.
Roger Morton