Mens Needs, Womens Needs, Whatever
After two promising indie albums, the Cribs enter major label-dom with *Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever*, a brittle yet bouncy collection of abrasive pop tunes. Lead singer/guitarist Ryan Jarman guides the British foursome into the trenches of romantic warfare with a mixture of annoyance and delight. Twitching tempos and nagging guitar riffs lend a prickly energy to “Girls Like Mystery,” “Moving Pictures,” and “I’m a Realist,” setting off Jarman’s dissections of dating culture and urban alienation. “Love is a lie/attraction an instinct,” he declares in a typically aggrieved tone in “I’ve Tried Everything.” At times, a self-pitying mood (especially in “Women’s Needs”) threatens to dampen the fun. But when all else fails, the Cribs’ affection for classic Britpop shines through, infusing tunes like “Ancient History” and “Our Bovine Public” with a mocking sort of joy. Adding balance is the sprawling “Be Safe” (featuring a spoken vocal by Sonic Youth’s Lee Renaldo) and the softly acoustic “Shoot the Poets.” As producer, Alex Kapranos (from Franz Ferdinand) dresses the band in more presentable sounds without obscuring their soiled charm.
The UK band follows its 2005 Edwyn Collins-produced breakthrough The New Fellas with a major-label debut helmed by Franz Ferdinand's Alex Kapranos and mixed by alt-rock heavyweight Andy Wallace-- and it features perhaps the unlikeliest indie-celeb cameo since Laetitia Sadier showed up on a Common album.
Rock-buff tolerance for smart, laddish guitar-pop may be waning, but the more forgiving fans should still find room in their hearts for Yorkshire's brashly hooky trio The Cribs. On the band's third album, Men's Needs, Women's Needs, Whatever, the three Jarman brothers focus on short, bouncy, sing-song anthems, mostly…
The Cribs should, according to 99 per cent of the NME office, their crazily loyal fanbase and Forseti the Norse god of justice, be absolutely stonking massive by now.
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Wakefield's finest family band, the Cribs' long-awaited return under the much-publicised watchful ear of a certain Mr Kapranos is a hit and miss affair, with patches of brilliance let down by weaker efforts, often suffering from slightly bizarre lyrics and disjointed melodies.