The Cribs: Selling a Vibe
With their ninth studio album, The Cribs prove once again that longevity doesn’t have to mean stagnation. Selling a Vibe finds the Jarman brothers refining the sound they’ve spent two decades shaping, blending their familiar distorted guitar energy with a subtle gloss that nods toward 80s pop textures – without losing their raw, indie backbone.
The band have always existed in a strange space: close enough to the mid-2000s indie explosion to be associated with it, but never fully absorbed into the hype machine. While many of their contemporaries chased mainstream visibility, The Cribs carved out a more self-contained path, prioritising independence, consistency, and identity over chart dominance. That approach has given them something rarer than trend-driven success: durability.
That sense of survival runs through Selling a Vibe. Lyrically, the album feels reflective without becoming sentimental. There’s an unmistakable awareness of time passing, of lessons learned, and of illusions shed. Several tracks carry a quiet bitterness toward industry struggles and past battles, while others deal more personally with growing up, disillusionment, and the slow fading of youthful certainty. It’s not nostalgia; it’s perspective.
Sonically, the record feels confident rather than experimental. The production is cleaner and more streamlined than some previous releases, adding light electronic touches and a faint retro polish in places, but the core remains unmistakably Cribs: driving guitars, tight rhythms, and punchy songwriting. Nothing feels bloated or overproduced. The songs are compact, focused, and direct – built to hit quickly and leave an impression.
What stands out most is how balanced the album feels. It doesn’t chase reinvention, but it also doesn’t feel tired. The melodies land, the choruses stick, and the arrangements feel purposeful rather than formulaic. This is a band that clearly understands its own identity – not trying to rewrite it, just sharpening it.
Selling a Vibe doesn’t scream for attention, and it doesn’t need to. It’s the sound of a group comfortable with where they stand: no longer chasing trends, no longer proving themselves, just making strong records with clarity and conviction. The closing moments of the album lean into themes of brotherhood, endurance, and emotional honesty, reinforcing the idea that the Cribs’ real achievement isn’t hype or headlines – it’s staying power.
In an industry obsessed with novelty, Selling a Vibe offers something quieter but more lasting: a band still standing, still sharp, and still capable of writing songs that connect.
