It was difficult to know what to expect from an interview with Ryan Jarman, frontman and recognisable face of The Cribs, a band of three brothers who throughout their careers have gained both fervent praise for their quasi-punk sounds and a certain amount of vilification for what some critics perceive to be a kind of ‘lad rock’. On meeting him in one of the York Barbican’s unusually large dressing rooms, he appeared surprisingly slight, humble and edging on nervousness, very different to the Ryan Jarman I knew from watching live performances and videos, in which he appeared a man in control of his rock star image – confident and ironical, with just the right amount of surliness to top it off.
I naturally opened the interview with a question about their latest album, In the Belly of the Brazen Bull, inquiring about whether he felt it was more mature since the days of their debut album and The New Fellas. Jarman winced at the word ‘mature’, stating that it was “just another way of saying you’re becoming boring.” However, he concedes, “I definitely connect more with this record. Our first album held a certain kind of naivety, and our second was very angry, the result being very much a knee-jerk reaction to this. The new album is certainly more comfortable and representative of who we are.” This can certainly be seen in the calibre of their latest output – they are unafraid of creating brilliant pop records, disregarding any need to create something overtly experimental. This can be seen in the first single off this album, ‘Chi-Town’, a pumping, poppy, shouty track which captures just the right amount of raucous fun The Cribs are so praised for.
A wry smile comes across Ryan’s face when I ask about the pleasingly alliterative title of their latest record: “I got the idea from a book I was reading on tour back in 2006 about certain methods of torture, and this brazen bull thing was the most sinister. People were roasted inside these things! I was just amazed at how people could be that twisted and that f***ed up.” A slight dissent from some of the upbeat vibes of the album then, but an interesting one and typical of the great imaginations of the Jarmans. Ryan takes some pleasure in adding that “Johnny [Marr] hated the name. He couldn’t understand why you’d want the word ‘belly’ in an album. But now he’s gone we just decided to go for it.”
The recent departure of Johnny Marr (of The Smiths and Modest Mouse fame), is something the band are clearly taking in their stride. I ask whether it is sometimes hard to fill the guitar parts Johnny played in their live shows. “It’s nice to have an extra guitarist,” he muses, “but we’re used to having two now and we have an extra guitar player on the road with us if we need any filler bits.” It seems to me that as long as the Jarman brothers are together then The Cribs are strong. On asking whether the siblings get along well together considering how much time they spend together, Ryan ardently replies, “We’re so emotionally invested in the band now and we have so much empathy with each other that it makes the running of the band very easy. If anyone were to slag off one of my brothers, I’d want to defend them.” This rather sweet sentiment is something that seems fundamental to the band’s success – the music they have produced over their as yet decade long career has been consistently good, and supporting each other through the touring and writing process has inevitably helped this.
The fame of The Cribs has undoubtedly reached new heights of late, proved by their sold out shows and increasing media attention. Because of this, I ask whether they miss the days of relative anonymity, when they played shows without people recognising them. Ryan sighs slightly and nods, “It’s quite annoying now we can’t go out after shows. We used to go straight to club nights after a show but now if we did that people would think we had certain motives – as if you’ve gone out simply for people to recognise you.” Despite this, Ryan still speaks fondly of some of his most avid fans: “There’s this guy with my face tattooed on his arm. I mean, that’s pretty cool. Fans can get too protective, though. When Johnny joined officially there was quite a lot of uproar from fans on the internet.” This protectiveness is what seems to come with the territory with a band like The Cribs – a tight group of brothers with a penchant for punk, they cannot be replaced by anyone, which is perhaps essential to their success.
I ask Ryan what the future holds for the band, as, despite the success they are currently riding on, it presumably will not be easy to keep their material fresh and hold on to all of their fans: “Well, we’re carrying on with playing shows for the moment, and there is some material left over from the last album for us to do something with. I’m working on a solo album as well.” In this way, there’s plenty for the Jarmans to be getting on with, while at the same time pursuing new projects. My instinct tells me that Ryan’s solo material will be a pleasantly unexpected surprise, as his demeanour suggests perhaps he is holding back a more gentle side to his music, something that is often known to come out in solo pursuits. Either way, there is no stopping The Cribs, a band who have surely earned their place in the rock and roll canon.