Not long to go until Squid unleashes their third album. After the great progress made on O Monolith, the sky is truly the limit for Cowards. All we can do until then is wait. Replay Crispy Skin and their latest single, Building 650, and wait. Remind yourself of Crispy Skin before heading into Building 650. It was and still is a song of varying genres, of twisted instrumental approaches and based on the bold avenues of literary charm. It was an album contained in a song and more credit to Squid for finding a way to do this over just six minutes. Remarkable, truly. Building 650 hopes to continue these ambitions, not by cramming those unquestioned feelings of confusion making up the core of their message on Cowards’ lead single, but in maintaining a fine form which served them so well on Fugue after O Monolith.
This is a song influenced by the successes of the band. Their fame and reach for festivals across the globe has directly influenced Building 650 and it makes all the difference in the outlook presented by Ollie Judge. A tourist without challenge, without a sense of difference to his view of the world or where he comes from. It makes for a fascinating topic at the best of times and for Building 650, its sense of post-pandemic isolation still feels raw. We are years removed from it, now, which is a time skip not observed by Building 650 as it festers in the early days of a cultural rebirth. An eerily quiet, bustling city is not far from many doorsteps. Just look at London. It is a cold yet crazed city, frothing at the mouth with no heart or brain to pummel with new ideas. Building 650 does not have that problem.
A desire to be shown all the sparkling cultural masses but being disappointed by the everyday sense which is underlying all those tourist traps is what comes through on Building 650. Exciting, punchy guitar works punctuate those fears of the unknown, the massive buildings and the masquerade of the everyday. Squid aims for a slower burn with this one, a calmer contrast to the volatility of their lead single from Cowards and a spectacular, necessary cooldown where the demands of being shown around soon recede into apologetic tones of realising the surface had nothing to offer. Dig deeper into your surroundings, and find something to be fascinated by, to be proud of. Such is the desire of Building 650.
Those empty gazes heard towards the end of Building 650 are not ones of awe. They are stagnant glowers at a part of the world not yet understood. This is not through a lack of assimilation to the culture but a fear of the everyday, the sense of isolation presented by being on the lookout for moments of spirited, life-altering variety in a place so usual to those who live there. From Tokyo to Reykjavik, this can happen, will happen. Building 650 is just another building, another place where life moves on for so many but makes all the difference to the few who take the time to stop, look, and appreciate. That slower tone is a massive help, the instrumentals packing yet another punch for Judge and the boys to cruise on towards the Cowards album release. A song which feels softly unnerving in the best of ways, those instrumental flourishes prove towering against a first exposure to a new land.
