With a new Squeeze album and tour on the way, one of South London’s best-loved musicians is more driven than ever

By Ben West

When I press the buzzer at the entrance to Glenn Tilbrook’s recording studio, hidden in the depths of a nondescript Charlton industrial estate (that looks like the backdrop to an episode of The Sweeney or The Professionals when they have the predictable altercation with the criminals at the end) I reflect on how he’s never left the Charlton, Blackheath and Deptford areas since his Woolwich birth in 1957.

His band Squeeze has been touring America since 1978 and so he could have easily ended up living there, or indeed anywhere in the world he’s toured that took his fancy.

Pinning him down for an interview has been rather difficult. True, being, with his Squeeze partner, lyricist Chris Difford, one half of one of Britain’s most revered songwriting teams in one of its best-loved bands, he’s a busy guy. If he’s not touring the UK or countries like Japan or Australia, and of course America, either solo or with the band, he’s engrossed in recording.

Indeed, we meet a day after Squeeze have been recording for a couple of weeks at his studio, and he appears a tad knackered on this overcast March morning. However, he perks up when I ask how the recordings have gone.

“I think it’s going to be the best Squeeze record ever,” he says, reclining in a chair by his black baby grand and a gaggle of microphone stands. “We finished doing the tracks yesterday and it’s the most incredible bunch of songs we have ever written. Our last album, Cradle to the Grave, was very much set around Danny Baker’s tv series of the same name, so it gave us a very specific thing to write about. But this one is lyrically far wider in its brief. Musically also. It’s event aware, about what’s happening today.”

With a back catalogue that includes such intelligent and melodically audacious enduring hits as Take Me I’m Yours, Cool for Cats, Annie Get Your Gun, Tempted, Pulling Mussels from a Shell, Another Nail in My Heart, Labelled With Love, Hourglass and Up the Junction, for the next Squeeze album to top such classics must surely be a pretty tall order.

(By the way, if you’re thinking of moving to the area, one of the prerequisites of being a south Londoner aged over about 45 is being able to sing the lyrics of ‘Up the Junction’ word for word).

Glenn’s studio is crammed with memorabilia accrued over the four decades he’s been in the music business, as well as comfy sofas that swallow you up, a wall of vinyl LPs and another of cassettes (kids: ask your parents what cassettes are).

Squeeze formed in 1974 after Glenn answered an ad placed by Chris in a sweet shop window. Hard to believe now, but for the first two years together, they couldn’t get any bookings at all as a band. Early gigs were at the Morden Arms in Greenwich and the band found its first commercial success during the new wave era in 1978. It was a roller coaster ride from then on, with great chart success, members coming and going, highs, lows, depression and divorce, breakups and breakdowns, solo careers and reunions. What’s for sure is the band’s in some fantastic place right now.

“With all this recording, the band is my world at the moment,” says Glenn. “It’s a fantastic line-up we have right now.”

As well as Glenn and Chris, the current band consists of Steven Large, Lucy Shaw and Simon Hanson. Past members have included Jools Holland, Paul Carrack, Gilson Lavis, Jools’ brother Christopher Holland, John Bentley, Steve Nieve and Harry Kakoulli. A while ago Glenn even enlisted his mate Johnny Depp to do a narration and his then wife Vanessa Paradis sing vocals on his album Pandemonium Ensues made by another of his projects, the band Glenn Tilbrook and The Fluffers.

I mention that in Squeeze’s early days I remember hearing an announcement on Capital Radio that they were looking for a keyboard player, and giving a telephone number on air to get in touch. I found it rather bizarre, this band in the charts auditioning so publicly like that. Glenn laughs.

“When we auditioned in those days we had no idea. We’d give keyboard players an hour each. And honestly, all it takes is two minutes each, and you sort of know they’re in the running or not. And the other 55 minutes can be rather taxing…”

Whilst Glenn’s always lived in the area, Chris hasn’t lived in town for 30 years or so and currently resides in Brighton.

“He’s been having to commute here every day, poor love,” says Glenn mischieviously. “I’ve always loved it here. I love to see the changes that have happened. Not all of it good. I remember with Squeeze we did a photo session in 1975 right down the riverfront and at that point it was still a fully functioning river. It wasn’t always pretty, but we never anticipated the changes that would happen.

“Canary Wharf is a fantastic development. The economics of the way things have happened have great benefits but also terrible drawbacks. I fear for my own childrens’ ability to stay in the area because of being outpriced, and that can’t be good. There should be more state intervention on that front.

“I used to have my studio in Blackheath Village, in Royal Parade Mews. I was renting there and it was an early signal of what was to come. It was sold off in 2004 and redeveloped – so I myself am an example of a person who’s been driven out of a place that I’d created for myself over years. I’m fortunate that that expulsion made me think to buy wherever I went next, and indeed this whole site is going to be redeveloped but as I own this studio I can stay here. I’m happy here.”

So does he like touring?

“I adore playing live – but I don’t like being away from home so much. I’m incredibly lucky to see the world on a regular basis, I never lose sight of that, but I also never lose sight of how much I want to be at home.

“Touring solo and with the band are very different things. The band is such a wonderful musical palette, and we keep getting better and better, and that’s a dream position for a band of this age. I know how easy it is to get complacent, because I think that we were at some point in the past. I don’t want to be like that ever again. It’s about pushing forward.

“Audiences are different around the world, but essentially we’ve always been a band that writes about our lives, or lives like ours. I wouldn’t compare us to Chuck Berry, but whereas he intrigued with stories of American life, we can intrigue with stories of London life. It’s just as exotic to different people.”

Music has very much become the family business of late, with his sons, Leon, Louis and Ted all currently making their way in the industry. Louis and Ted will soon be releasing an e.p., while Leon is performing in a fundraiser Glenn is doing on May 18 at the Blackheath Halls.

Also featuring rhythm and blues heroes Nine Below Zero and The Lewisham and Greenwich NHS Choir (who not only notched up a Christmas number one single but performed at Wembley for the FA Cup Final), and compered by skilful comedian Nick Wilty, the event is to benefit Thorntree Primary School in Greenwich – which Glenn’s children attended.

“Music is a precarious way to make a living and like all businesses has its sharks, so my kids have got to be careful,” he says. “But they are very fiercely independent, as they should be.”

When I ask him what the best moment in his career has been, he’s in a quandry, for there have been so many of them: performing at countless iconic venues such as The Royal Albert Hall in London and Madison Square Garden in New York; along with Difford, as songwriters, being compared to Lennon and McCartney, Elton John and Bernie Taupin, Ray Davies, and Elvis Costello. Or what about winning an Ivor Novello Award for Outstanding Contribution to British Music, a Nordoff-Robbins Icon Award or a Mojo Icon Award?

“Most recently, playing the main stage for the first time, at Glastonbury last year, was very special,” he says. “It was a field of people going crazy, a fantastic thing to do at my age and get that response. It was awe-inspiring. I never lose the enthusiasm for playing, or for what the band is capable of delivering. And I know that’s what people see in us because I think it’s something you can’t fake. You can be professional but you can’t fake when you’re excited. Prince said that, Prince had that gift of communication. We as a band have that.”

And the worst moment?

“One that always sticks in my mind was a solo gig I did at Salt Lake City in 2004. I’d sprained my ankle onstage and was on crutches and could hardly walk. Then the bus broke down and I had to fly on to do this gig on my own, while Suzanne, my wife, had to deal with the bus, 1,500 miles away. There were 10 people at the gig, the promoter left early, and I had to pack up everything myself, limping along, looking for a cab, while on crutches. I did think, at that moment, ‘so, this is where my career’s ended up.’”

Glenn met Suzanne when they were touring together: “It was the right time for us. We’ve been together a long time now.

“Weirdly, I found the years I was having the least success – and this happened in the middle of my life – were almost more enriching than being successful. I really believe that. I’m not in that place now, so I can look back and say it really did me a lot of good. To see how strongly I believed in what I do, and how strongly my passion for doing it. It’s never been about money for me.”

Does he think people assume he simply lives a luxury lifestyle, effortlessly going from one five star hotel to another while touring, when the reality may be very different?

“People can think what they like. It’s not something I think about, it’s not up to me what they think.”

He finds it hard to single out people he’s especially liked working with over the years, having played with everyone from Aimee Mann to Keith Richards. He mentions Dennis Greaves and Mark Feltham of Nine Below Zero, and also veteran record producer (and Greenwich resident) Laurie Latham, who has worked with artists including Ian Dury, Echo and the Bunnymen, The Christians, Manfred Mann, The Stranglers, The Maccabees, Stereophonics, Robert Plant and Ray Davies, as well as Squeeze.

“Working with Laurie is great. He has such a great mind, he’s very sharp, he’s lost none of his passion either.”

Glenn still has a great appetite for new music, for example listening to BBC 6 Music, getting suggestions from his kids, and from people sending him new stuff.

“I very much try and discover new music all the time,” he says. “I DJ every Wednesday night at the White Swan pub in Charlton when I’m at home, and play all sorts of music. It’s great when something new and exciting leaps out at you from the radio – ‘Dressage’ by the Dutch Uncles recently, for example. I like the Sleaford Mods, Kate Tempest…”

I mention that when I’ve met him occasionally over the years, he’s seemed a bit uneasy. He explains that, despite having the ability to perform to thousands of people, he’s a bit shy.

The first time I met him was in Squeeze’s early days, when our bands were rehearsing in different rooms at the long-defunct Wood Wharf rehearsal studios in Greenwich, which at the time were run by the industrious musician – he’s recorded more than 40 albums, including I am a Man from Lewisham – Billy Jenkins, and used by Kate Bush and Dire Straits, amongst others.

Alas, my musical career was rather less successful than all of theirs: although I was good at various aspects of drumming, like hitting the skins and the odd cymbal, I lacked one quite important ingredient for a drummer, an ability to play in time.

Glenn’s not shy enough to not burst out laughing and tease me for my eccentric one- or two-fingered method of typing.

“It’s because I’m self-taught,” I explain.

“I’m self-taught too – I don’t read music,” he says.

For one of the UK’s most celebrated musicians to not read music is really quite a thing to hear. He obviously has a really instinctive feel for music that you’re born with, that you simply can’t train for.

“I came to realise what I have is a gift. I could always hear music, but early on I was frustrated no one else could hear it in the same way. I’d get stroppy with people. But it’s an incredible gift, and has provided me with a lifelong passion, and the ability to see my way and my family’s way through the world.”

I ask him whether he thinks the music business was better during the heyday of Squeeze, where a few thousand sales of CDs or records would generate more income for a musician than many thousands of plays on Spotify may do today. Indeed, when Up The Junction reached number two in 1979, Squeeze were selling 15,000 records a day. An artist selling 15,000 records a day now would be Adele.

“I don’t think there was a particular golden age, most people who say that there was always say that it was during their time. It’s easier to build a fan base now, but the major labels still have the muscle to make it happen – that has not changed.”

Would he have any advice to someone contemplating a music career?

“Be careful. Just follow your heart and be honest. And if you don’t have a passion for it, don’t bother.”

What would he have changed in his career if he had started out again?

“I don’t think I would change any of it. It’s been a marvellous journey. And I hope there’s a good many years more of it to come.”

This interview appeared in Black + Green Magazine in 2017