7/10 Nobody’s asking for sympathy here, but a quick pan of some of the other pieces about Bright Green Field reveal a common problem. At one level it’s quite easy to describe, lending itself comfortably to the sort of dense, metaphor-heavy appraisals which feel a bit like critical onanism, but what’s equally true is that you have to be an accomplice, a significant other, at its table, because without that there’s simply no way to embrace it in a meaningful way. Nearly always experimental and in places chaotic, Squid have made a record with which it’s impossible to have a casual relationship.