Chris Difford
and
Glenn Tilbrook
reunited in 2007, but for the first few years the revived
Squeeze
were nothing more than a touring act, ducking into the studio to re-record their hits in 2010 (the perfectly fine
Spot the Difference
) but taking their time to write a new batch of songs. That long-awaited reunion record, entitled
Cradle to the Grave
, finally appeared in the autumn of 2015, eight years after the reunion started and 17 years after
's last album,
Domino
. Remarkably, especially given its mortality-obsessed title,
doesn't play like a revival, nor does it seem concerned with modern fashion.
Difford
Tilbrook
simply pick up the thread they left hanging in the '90s, acting as if no time has passed. Happily, the pair does not seem as knackered as they did on
, a record where they seemed to limp along out of habit. Without consciously reviving any specific
era -- the closest companion this album has may be the early-'90s efforts, such as
Play
Some Fantastic Place
--
relies on the sharp melodic construction of
's diffident wit, a combination the crackles throughout this lean 44-minute record. Although there's little doubt this is first and foremost a pop album constructed almost entirely out of tight three- to four-minute tunes, what
celebrate is classic pop aesthetics, not sound: perhaps the
Tamla
-
Motown
bounce of the title track is expected, but the glitterball disco that follows on "Nirvana" is not, and the record is filled with such sly curveballs, finding a bit of earthiness in the majestic contours of
the Beach Boys
and splendor within boozy singalongs. When applied to such sturdy songs, these grace notes make
feel nothing less than celebratory, an affirmation of
's special chemistry as songwriters and bandleaders. ~ Stephen Thomas Erlewine