Abel Tesfaye's dark, twisted album is at odds with the glossy pop world he's been thrust into
The brothers bring the city's prodigal son back home. The Ritz, Manchester, Friday, February 6
Marr could easily have upstaged them tonight, this being the scene of the first ever Smiths show. But that isn’t the case, despite the rapturous reception that greets him. If the shows they did together last year on the Shockwaves NME Awards Tour showed nerves on both sides, the chemistry here could hardly be more fizzing. Marr even looks like an Uncle Jarman.
The Scrappy-Doo strop-punk that always marked The Cribs out, though, remains the same, as does the chaos. About four songs in, the screen that should, at the end, be used to flash up Lee Ranaldo’s guest monologue on ‘Be Safe’ lowers down a good hour too early, causing Ryan to catch the neck of his guitar on the bottom, lose his footing and pull the whole thing crashing down on top of him. A louche Marr opines, “It’s a Manchester thing. It’s a Lancashire thing. It’s a dickhead thing!”
This five-date mini-tour serves as a road-test for the new songs they’ve all been writing together before heading into the studio. We get five tonight: pounding opener ‘We Were Aborted’, the acrobatic rumble of ‘We Share The Same Skies’, the heroically no-fi ‘Buzz’ and the manic stop-start tourniquet that is ‘Hari Kari’. They’re all classic Cribs songs, maybe even something better than that. But the one ringing in Manchester’s ears is ‘Cheat On Me’. It will be doing the same in yours before the year is out; it’s a gargantuan orgasm of a pop song with a chorus as wide as the February skies. It’s destined to be insanely huge. And as the rest of the room always knew, whoever’s on rhythm guitar, The Cribs’ moment was always going to come.
The Cavan teenagers attack album two with abandon, largely at the expense of quality
A still-vital John Lydon rages towards retirement on a saucy, scuzzy new album
10 Tracks You Need To Hear This Week (26/8/2015)
Oxford's finest flit between gnarly rock and frustrating slickness on an often-brilliant fourth album