On its face, Squid seems like an odd fit for Warp Records. The Brighton-bred, Bristol-based post-punk and experimental rock quintet doesn’t necessarily align with the electronic vision of the legendary London label. But the group, consisting of lead singer and drummer Ollie Judge, guitarists Louis Borlase and Anton Pearson, bassist Laurie Nankivell, and keyboardist Arthur Leadbetter, honors Warp’s tradition of bravery and willingness to explore the unexpected.
The group, which eschews traditional post-punk ideals in favor of something equally indebted to the precise chaos of math rock, is a perfect fit on a label that continues to expand its scope and core mission. Alongside acts like Yves Tumor, Danny Brown, and Battles, Squid fits nicely into a roster of current and graduated artists that place the utmost importance on pushing boundaries. On Squid’s new album O Monolith, they reframe these rock subgenres in new and fascinating ways—as heard on “Devil’s Den,” which features a stirring suite of woodwind instruments. Placed beneath Judge’s vocals, the dichotomy between his pacing snarl and the melodic arrangement makes for fascinating counterpoints. It helps that only moments later the song explodes into post-rock cacophony.
To celebrate the band’s new album and their place in the lore and history of Warp Records, we asked Judge to pick five favorites from the label’s hallowed discography, and to explain why they stand out amongst all the classics and forebears from Warp Records.
Yves Tumor, Safe in the Hands of Love
I was super into Yves Tumo’rs early work and may have even crossed paths with them in the early ’10s SoundCloud chillwave community (RIP). They’d been long teasing a release with Warp before Safe in the Hands of Love came out, and I was expecting some kind of chopped-and-screwed ambient album. I was working an office job when Warp did a Beyoncé-style surprise drop of the album and had to do a double take when I listened to Noid whilst I sat at my desk eating a tuna sandwich. I remember turning round to my friend who was also listening and just saying, “Have you heard the new Yves Tumor? What the fuck!” For me it’s the most insane and satisfying left turn I’ve ever seen an artist take. In 2018 I don’t think anyone was asking for an experimental, guitar-soloing glam-rock superstar, but I reckon Yves knew exactly what we needed.
Broadcast, Tender Buttons
Tender Buttons really reminds me of being at uni. My housemate had it on CD and I thought it looked interesting, so I went and bought it from Resident Records. I love how minimal it is—unlike us, they use a small pallet of sounds which makes it instantly recognizable. “Tears in the Typing Pool” is one of the most beautiful break-up songs ever written. The lyrics are just perfect and relatable to anyone who’s been in a relationship that’s doomed to fail. When I was at uni experiencing lots of different things for the first time, this album was a real rock for all my highs and lows.
Aphex Twin, Come to Daddy
My parents used to rent a room in our house to a revolving cast of lodgers, and one stayed for a long time and kind of became part of the family. We used to play Resident Evil late into the night and talk about wah-wah pedals a lot. He was really into everything on Warp and gave me the Come to Daddy CD when I was about nine or 10. He told me to skip the first track because he thought it might scare me, so I put the CD on in my room and obviously didn’t skip the first track. I remember this being the first time I was terrified by music. But that fear quickly disappeared when “Flim” came on. I’ve completely lost touch with our old lodger, Tom, if you’re reading this, get in touch!
Oneohtrix Point Never, R Plus 7
I was pretty obsessed with OPN’s album Replica when it came out. It felt like a real turning point in the kind of music I found enjoyable—suddenly texture and process was becoming more appealing to me. I loved hearing where OPN sourced his samples. When I’d make electronic music on my own at that age it was all about finding a good R&B acapella to try and plagiarize the latest post-dubstep bangers, so OPN opened up a new world of sampling possibilities for me. R Plus 7 just blew my mind when it came out. It was around the time I bought The Redeemer by Dean Blunt as well, and hearing these artists use artificial MIDI samples front and center in some of their tracks felt really fresh and, at the time, slightly wrong. “Chrome County” is just one of the most beautiful pieces of music ever written, isn’t it? Listening to the organ and piano come in together at the end on good headphones or speakers is transcendental.
Chris Morris, Blue Jam
I still don’t really know what mood I have to be in to listen to Blue Jam. I watched the TV show Jam for the first time whilst deathly hungover, feeling sorry for myself, and that was definitely the wrong time to do it. Blue Jam is unflinchingly dark and sometimes I doubt that it’s even funny. Behind all the madness there’s some kind of realism there that’s becoming more and more relatable to me and my friends as we get older. Saying this, I wish I was a little bit older so I could have experienced Blue Jam when it came out. I love the weird intersection between British comedy and downtempo, comedown-adjacent music that happened in the early noughties. I can’t really think of any comedy since then that’s been so intertwined with music (maybe apart from Green Wing). Chris Morris is an incredibly talented writer who I think I’ve definitely been influenced by. It’s absurdist and I often don’t know what he means by any of it—i think that’s the aspect that I like to take the most influence from. The monotonal confusion.
