Show Preview: The Cribs
Live @ The Crocodile
April 4, 2012
By Nick Minnott
“You aren’t allowed to say that you’re better – you aren’t allowed to say that ‘cause you’re the hipster type.”
“That type?” Whoa!
So I’m not exactly sure of the best way to begin this article. There can’t possibly be some clever or interesting way of introducing my intimate love for English band The Cribs. Not enough clichés, at least.
I haven’t heard their brand new record In The Belly Of The Brazen Bull yet, but I have been listening to every one of their previous four albums as I walk to work in the mist. For whatever reason, it really gets me fired up to sit at my desk for eight hours a day.
“Take drugs, don’t eat, have contempt for those you meet. Take drugs, don’t sleep, have contempt for those you meet.”
I really wish I had been on The Cribs train (no doubt from Wakefield) from Day One, but the truth is they happened to be opening for Death Cab for Cutie on my birthday freshman year of college in Chicago. Hurray for sentimental music!
I may (OR MAY NOT) have been under the influence of a certain controlled substance when a trio of ripped-jean wearing lads briskly walked to their prospective instruments. The dorm-mate I had taken to The Metro that night was all like “These guys suck at their instruments” and I was all like “Holy shit, this is amazing.” (That’s pretty much verbatim dialogue.)
“To those who’d never exist withou being generic, you’ll have to impress our bovine public.”
Sure, they were raw, but they were intentionally raw. And they were more drunk than I was, which appealed to me.
Even if my Fall Out Boy-loving guest couldn’t get into their rawness, he was still singing “Martell” when we got back to the dorms and I was able to look up their YouTube videos. Way to go, Alan (he’s a lawyer now, for the record).[youtube:http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCHFaRULk9Y]
“And although it makes no difference, I still know that it’s got nothing to do with the way I’m without you.”
I guess the main thing that appeals to me about The Cribs is the way they span the spectrum from sentimental punk to existential rock (see “Hey Scenesters” and “Be Safe,” respectively), and I can see myself in both of those categories. I’m a white kid with no real problems and, at the same time, all the existential problems that come with not having immediate problems (sorry Africa). It makes my fervent walks through downtown Seattle more angst-filled and subsequently angst-ridden once they’re over. Everyone should have an ‘outlet for emotion stockpiled, an arsenal, an armor.’ The Cribs give me that every damn morning.
“I have always had a real problem with getting down, but it’s alright you know – I really don’t mind that you know.”
Sure, I’ve only seen them live five times, but it feels like more than that. I can tell Gary from Ryan (they’re twins) and I’ve played in some crappy college bands that have covered their easier songs. (Yes, they’re all pretty easy to play, but still…)
“When I’m drunk I can be an asshole, but that don’t mean I’ve got no class, no. Why can’t we have something going on?”
I wish this had been more deep, introspective and interesting – but I’m not sure that would have been appropriate.
I’m sad Gary chose to live in Portland over Seattle; I would be looking for him every day. He’ll back in town with the rest of the Cribs April 4, at least. They play the Crocodile.