The Cribs

It’s a glorious evening inside the beautiful courtyard of Somerset House, as Gary Jarman bemoans the fact that it’s taken 21 years for The Cribs to be invited back to perform. When the crowd descends into raptures, egged on by 2005’s ‘Hey Scenesters’, you have to wonder why the wait was so long. 

Musically, The Cribs sound near-identical to their noughties heyday. The merry band of brothers are so tight that they somehow keep in time with the increasingly emotional and inebriated crowd screaming the riff of fan favourite ‘I’m A Realist’ back at the stage and into their mates’ faces. I wouldn’t be shocked if the noise escaped the imposing walls of Somerset House and drifted across the Thames, to be heard by tourists on duck-boat tours. Though The Cribs were never known for perfect vocal performances, the feeling of passion when Gary and Ryan harmonise on the anthemic chorus would put a smile on the face of even the most jaded indie cynic. It is remarkable that this clearly adored and special band was ever lumped in with the general macho, inauthentic dirge that constituted much of the British 2000s indie scene.

Though the band lean heavily on 2005’s The New Fellas and 2007’s Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever throughout the set, some of the night’s highlights are the outings of songs from 2026’s Selling a Vibe. The longing single ‘Summer Seizures’ particularly excels, with the live performance benefiting from a raw vocal more befitting of the band’s classic style, compared to the polished record. The smooth ‘Brothers Won’t Break’ also goes down well, with the song touching on themes of brotherhood and belonging, two tenets central to The Cribs manifesto. The song is particularly poignant as the band has remained (bar a brief Johnny Marr interlude) a trio of brothers since their inception. Whilst Gary and Ryan bear the brunt of crowd interaction, drummer Ross Jarman relentlessly drives the songs on, ensuring the duelling guitars and vocal melodies are kept in time. The Cribs’ greatest strength is the bond and connection between the three brothers, and it’s easy to see why on a night like this.

The only criticism of the night, through no fault of the band, is the slightly muddy vocal mix. It makes some of the lyrics a struggle to decipher, particularly on the acoustic number ‘Shoot The Poets’. This is a shame, as the song contains some of the band’s best lyricism. 

Any review of a Cribs gig that only talks about the music is missing the point. The real story is the impeccable community of fans they have built throughout their two decades as Britain’s favourite cult band. A late Monday evening and the impending threat of a week of work doesn’t stop the crowd from dutifully singing every single word of every single song. Friends hug in jubilation when deep-cut ‘Housewife’ is performed. People of all ages crowdsurf during the Lee Ranaldo-assisted ‘Be Safe’. The crowd embrace in the middle of mosh pits like old friends, despite being complete strangers.  It truly is a community that only a band with the committed DIY ethos of The Cribs could’ve built.

It’s hard to imagine a band more deserving of their devoted community than The Cribs. After being treated to the raucous ‘Pink Snow’ as a set closer, the foam-drenched crowd spilled onto Waterloo Bridge. Even though the sun has long set, paradise doesn’t feel too far off.