A NIGHT OUT WITH: Difford and Tillbrook

WHERE : Town Hall, Birmingham
WHEN: 11.11.14

       I had thought long and hard about this one, Squeeze having been a huge part of my late teens and then all the way up to their 2nd dissolution a decade and a half ago, in 1999, but something inside me was somehow struggling with the reliance on past glories that seems to belie the Spot the Difference record and tours. Hell, it all seemed a bit Sex Pistols, and I had read they could barely be in the same room as each other. But time mellows, and I watched the documentary on BBC4 and a concert filmed in New York and, you know, they looked good. And John Bentley, bassist from my favourite part of their journey, was back in the fold. OK, this show wasn't the full band, but I knew Tillbrook was excellent on his own and had seen for my own ears that Difford was, actually, so-so, so the chances were reasonable. Plus, I had blagged a freebie on the basis of recording my thoughts for Afterword, where this would have appeared had it not been resting to restore the drupal grainstore free from cybercrime.
       First appearances were promising, the stage set up like a Morecambe and Wise bedroom, with double bed and breakfast table, so it was no great surprise they began in bed, before launching into Take Me, I'm Yours, pyjama clad, with a background screen depicting vintage, very, views of the band. The electronica of the original suited the dual acoustic treatment, but no sooner had they finished it than Difford disappeared, albeit leaving Tillbrook to perform an exquisite solo Black Coffee in Bed. Back together again, the anecdotes around how they met were trotted out, much as one might have expected. And that was how the first half continued, duo and solo versions of various hits, to either arty backdrops or nostalgia gurnfest promos. It was all a bit polite, really, and sadly forced the audience into seeing only too well the difference in their performance strengths. Tillbrook sings and plays guitar (and piano) like a dream, whilst Difford, as we were repeatedly reminded, writes the words. Of course those words are brilliant but this made for imbalance, as Difford sang his own solo songs, largely unrecognised, whilst Tillbrook sang the ones everyone knew. I for one was happier when they were both together on stage, even in the somewhat uncomfortable sequences when questions were taken from the crowd. It's possible the same questions are asked nightly, but the biggest smile came as one wag asked how they felt about a certain Mr Hollands fame and fortune. A short pause, a smirk and it was asked whether the questioner had seen "the advert."

      Into the second half and the pair seemed slightly less stilted, maybe as a result of audience alcohol, Difford now resolutely TT. A magnificent Some Fantastic Place opened proceedings and, apart from a couple of new, something they have been promising for yonks, it was a brisk caper through most of the expected. (On a surly note, I later noted it was almost the entire make-up of Spot the Difference that was played, rather than any less well explored nuggets, so good for those who had that or the more conventional hits collections, less so for completists. Hey ho!) Cool for Cats was inevitably the finale, before an encore of another new one, followed by Labelled With Love and Goodbye Girl. Somehow the two were already signing in the foyer before  I was even out of my row.
Good in parts, then, and sometimes very good, but it smacked of a marketing exercise, maybe dreamt up by management looking wistfully at the Eagles retrospectathon and similar. Did the performers seem on automatic pilot? In truth, yes, I thought, a little. Having said that I suspect the vast majority of the appreciative audience will have felt otherwise. Maybe I'm just picky.

P.S. Mr Tillbrook no longer has his beard, but it is apparently folded up in his wallet.