Interpret the name of the new Cribs album how you like, but it all becomes oh so clear when on the Jarmans command, the crowd yell it's a shame that we just cant ignore the ignorant.
With a band like the Cribs, theres no faffing. They erupt with a piercing panel of white lights and the Marr-led riff of We Were Aborted and end abruptly with the same fist-in-mouth attitude, disappearing off the stage like the band members suddenly got teleported - quicker than the temper of the fat bouncer.
The support acts tonight are a carnival of oddities, which compared to the last tours of indie fodder (simply there to direct attention to the headliners) is surprising.
An audience of frozen-to-the-spot trendys survey Lissy Trullies coons and woops with a motionless apathy, contrasting then with Adam Green's poppy gypsy songs that spark a sense of energy into Cambridge; as Indie Bohos gradually start to twist their stick-legs and sparky-Adam swaggers to and fro like a macho Mick Jagger.
Adam Green delivers a captivating set, busting Pulp Fiction dance sequence moves with a slinky suave manner throughout, delivering his curious booze-tinged pop-songs with a stiff head and a pill-faced alertness, matched to an idiosyncratic style - which is surprisingly charismatic; then his set closes with a crowd-pleasing song about Jessica Simpson.
Finally then to a flash of white light - The Cribs canter into hulky
lad-rock with a smooth charm. Progression or not; this is a Cribs gig
and every teenie-boho and Marr-revivalist is here to be a realist-
checking their fringes and giving a little pout while they're at it-
there is no denying however that a widespread passion emerges from the
crowd tonight and that the reception to the new album is much bigger
than before : whether this be because of Marrs presence or not,
it seems impossible not to love it.
: by Valerio Berdini http://liveon35mm.wordpress.com
Particular highlights are the hypnotic City Of Bugs where Ryan Jarman spits with Joe Strummer fury Im a messed up baby, Im a Berlin wall tonight then propelling into My Bloody Valentine skydives of reverb-greased guitar, leading then later into the resonating old track Be Safe which features a projected video of Sonic Youth guitarist Lee Roneldo booming like the voice of Orwell's Big Brother over the uplifting music.
The cynics are critical of Marr's part in the band; publicity stunt, excuse to sell records and so on. But compared with Morrisseys major-label pop records twinned with tight-arsed tours to seated audiences, it seems that Johnny Marr's presence is actually anything but a stunt - more a revival of the feeling he felt in boozey rock in sweaty small venues just like the old days, except of course - well hes now an icon.