Pared-down Squeeze still proves tempting
With just one original member, band delivers punchy New Wave classics

By Jon M. Gilbertson
Special to the Milwaukee Journal Sentinel

It's hard to believe Squeeze, as a generally functioning unit, is older than "Star Wars." The former has aged rather less badly than the latter.
At least that was the impression given off by the U.K. band Monday night at Shank Hall, during a show in which the current lineup's sole original member, Glenn Tilbrook, came across as a more convincing actor than Mark Hamill circa 1977. In fact, it was possible to believe he enjoyed fronting a collective that might often seem a hair's breadth from oldie-act status.

'Twas not always thus: Back in the day, Squeeze perched atop the New Wave crested by the likes of fellow secret traditionalists Elvis Costello and Nick Lowe. Collaborating with Chris Difford, Tilbrook made Squeeze a contender for godhood, but in the intervening years, the music produced by the Difford/Tilbrook partnership has, in terms of quality, fluctuated more wildly than that of their idols, Lennon and McCartney. The personal relationship has been just as heated.

Still, Tilbrook diplomatically explained Difford's absence - the guy doesn't care for touring or its concomitant lifestyle - and put himself and three backing musicians (including keyboardist Chris Holland, son of original Squeeze ivory-tickler Jools) through their paces. The result was a solid if ultimately familiar set.

Tilbrook's voice, sweet and utterly suited for rock-inflected pop music, hadn't aged badly; actually, it had barely aged at all. Newer songs like "Domino" held up fairly well against cult classics like "Tempted" and "Is That Love."

The band functioned with a chemistry and energy not unlike that of the original, "real" Squeeze. Even lightweight material, like Tilbrook's recently penned and self-explanatory "Interviewing Randy Newman," moved with a rakish bounce that it normally might not have deserved.

After a while, the lack of Difford's slightly more dour presence and any sense of artistic progress did begin to tell in the set: It became monotonous, albeit in a multicolored sort of way. Nevertheless, selections like the soulfully melancholic "Tempted," a less brittle version of "Take Me, I'm Yours," and the defiantly catchy "Annie Get Your Gun" disappointed no one in the modestly sized crowd. Squeeze wasn't what it could have been, but neither was it as bad as it could have been.

The opening acts provided a mixed bag. New Zealand expatriate Julia Darling looked like an Ani DiFranco disciple, but her songs resembled nondescript, if lovely, alternative rock. On the other hand, Nick Harper - a Squeeze pal who joined the headliner for a few numbers - came across with an earnest and powerful voice not unlike Ron Sexsmith's, and wailed on his guitar enough to break a few strings.

In a decidedly old-fashioned evening of entertainment, the basics shone through. No special effects needed.