Any English band that claims to not have struggled to survive under the avalanche that was the Arctic Monkeys' record breaking rise to power, is either so out of touch that they're not worth listening to, or just really good liars. Because lets face it, a lot of "looking good to make it this year for sure" bands like Hard-Fi, Ordinary Boys, or Dirty Pretty Things, to name but three, lost a lot more then their shirts when those northern simians hit it big in 2006. They lost their fan base. But while many lesser media hopefuls (like, oh I don't know. . . Razorlight) responded by putting out sophomoric works full of paltry riff-rock in an attempt to deny their own part in the dance rock revolution; others viewed the changing indie landscape as a call to arms. They stockpiled hooks and melodies, consolidated power, and shuffled back to the studio to prepare for all out fucking war. The Cribs are clearly one of these bands.

Certainly, sailing away from the continent altogether and touring the globe with Scottish super-stars Franz Ferdinand last year seems, in retrospect, to have likely been phase one in a battle strategy. For since then, the band has found allies in Warner Bros., and Ferdinand's own Alex Kapranos, to complete an album that, for my money, might just launch The Cribs into the heady role of "band most likely to give the Monkeys a run for their bananas in 2008."

To be fair though, Men's Needs, Woman's Needs, Whatever is The Cribs' third album. They'd already overcome their sophomore slump with the release of New Fellas in 2005, and have since had major publishing success (remember the Telus "Bird Commercial?") as well as many accolades from on high (Kaiser Chiefs front man Ricky Wilson even went so far as to publicly call them Britain's most underrated band while guest hosting Never Mind the Buzzcocks on BBC 2). So when "Our Bovine Public", the album's first track, snarls out of gate and kicks you square in the junk, don't act too surprised. This threesome from Wakefield, West Yorkshire has been at it for a while.

In fact, regardless of their new mainstream home (and I'm sure much to the relief of indie pundits all over the world) The Cribs have heard the call to "keep it real" and so MNWNW follows New Fellas in utilizing the same slacker, low-fi aesthetic that gave the band their offbeat hooligan edge in the first place. For better or worse, this gives the album a decidedly more American sound, placing it somewhere between The Strokes' Room on Fire and some dusty old track off Weezer's Pinkerton. It's a wonky combination sure, but smooth as bare ass garage pop offset by angular guitars and sometimes talky, anglophile vocals, makes listening to The Cribs a wholly original experience. In terms of lyrics, be prepared to get slapped with the same love hate relationship with the music biz that characterized earlier hits like "Hey Scenesters" and "Martell" along with some old rubbish about MTV being responsible for the downfall of relationships. Oh yeah, and the American release comes equipped with all the videos and tour docs needed to make you feel like your getting your allowance worth. Great stuff.

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"Men's Needs"