During the mid-noughties, the Cribs brought punk theatrics to the UK’s indie scene – vocalist Ryan Jarman roly-polying on to a table of glassware at the 2006 NME awards being perhaps the most notorious example. The Wakefield band also seemed keen to position themselves as industry outsiders, both prioritising grassroots fandom over rock-star glamour and maintaining a healthy cynicism about hipsterism, as encapsulated in songs such as Hey Scenesters! and Mirror Kissers. The droll title of their seventh album, 24-7 Rock Star Shit, neatly brings these tropes together, but it’s also a record that proves that the band’s reluctance to be swayed by fame and fashion can seem like stasis: Jarman’s whiny, distinctively-accented vocal and the loose, lo-fi guitar rock (invariably heralded by a blizzard of feedback) are the ingredients in a recipe that has barely changed in a decade. Still, this consistency has won them both longevity and loyal fans – it’s clear that the Cribs aren’t going anywhere, in more ways than one.
