Squid, photographed by David Barrett
“Guitars, cellos, trumpets, synths – everything your heart could desire to create an ethereal yet neurotic sound. This raw and undeniably confrontational style conflicted with the centuries old walls.”
Brighton’s up-and-coming experimental post-punk tyrants, Squid took to the ethereal setting of the former chapel – Saint Lukes, celebrating their 2025 album release ‘Cowards’. Accompanied and supported by the complex and alluring London singer/songwriter, Martha Skye Murphy, both acts utterly devoured the historical stage and left the audience stunned and awestruck.
A shoal of Squid fans entered the musical kirk – awaiting the siren that is Martha Skye Murphy. In all honesty, I was unsure of what could lie ahead in regards to the support. However, this concern dissipated as Martha graciously walked onto the stage.
Silence – the room was muted bar the echoing of heeled shoes, pacing, back and forth.
The eerie atmosphere grew more apparent as time progressed. Taking a courteous sip of red wine before proceeding, the singer fluently transformed into a melodramatic performer, filled with unabridged noise, passion and skillful looping.
What completely seized my attention was Martha’s use of pre-recorded tracks – she proceeded to play a nostalgic intricate sample with a synthesizer mimicking sounds of an out of tune piano, furthering the feeling that she was scoring her own track. Her progressive style felt like an argument with the instrument, growing severely more intense and aggressive by the second.
Martha elected to address her audience after presenting her avant-garde 2024 release album, ‘Um’, in addition to the curiosity and ominous atmosphere she projected through her time on stage.
I would consider this a subtly theatrical performance rather than a set – capturing the keen attentiveness of her audience. It was by far one of the best support acts I’ve witnessed play for a while.
Squid, photographed by David Barrett
The cannibalistic track ‘Crispy Skin’ opened their set – akin to Squid’s album release. Hearing this album opener live completely encapsulated and mirrored the enthralling yet uneasy listening experience. It felt like my soul shifted from my body – it was an orchestral symphony of delirium. When Ollie Judge’s vocals broke in, my partner who accompanied me to the venue immediately grabbed me, exclaiming “The lead singer is the drummer?!”. His dual role as lead vocalist and drummer is something that always feels unnatural yet is led by pure intricacy, emotion, and unreal talent.
Squid, photographed by David Barrett
An important mention is the impressive amalgamation of percussion and other finely tuned instruments Squid presented on stage. It’s a collection that you would have to take a glance (…or two) at, maybe even ask a few questions before fully understanding the soulful power they project. This collective was mostly orchestrated by Arthur Leadbetter, whose skillful talent is visually and audibly uncanny. It allowed the music to transcend the typical concert experience and become something altogether more immersive.
Squid’s interactions with the crowd were kept very short and sweet – Ollie had made a comment on Saint Luke’s locally famous organ, claiming that the band “wanted to use it but it’s broken… apparently.”
Although there weren’t many crowd interactions, the audience was incredibly focused and attentive – applauding even erupted into rhythmic time patterns, led by the serenade of ‘Fieldworks II’.
Squid, photographed by David Barrett
A section of this concert that I couldn’t get my mind off was when ‘Blades’ began to play. This 2023 release was beautifully captivating live. Featuring fluent movement and gestures, Ollie stood in reverie whilst a graceful, yet eerie quartet formed around him. Guitars, cellos, trumpets, synths – everything your heart could desire to create an ethereal yet neurotic sound. This raw and undeniably confrontational style conflicted with the centuries old walls.
Squid, photographed by David Barrett
This was a glorious 90 minute set that later ended on a 2 part encore, walking back on stage to perform an interlude that fell into ‘Narrator’ and ‘Well Met (Fingers Through The Fence’. I felt like the ending to this set felt borderline melancholic and presented a downbeat spiral into a close. It was smart and very natural finishing off the show with the album’s closing track – full circling with their ‘Crispy Skin’ opener. Overall, this gig felt very hallucinatory and liberating in a slightly uncomfortable, surreal manner. I would highly recommend it to any who have not had the pleasure.