The Cribs, Electric Ballroom, London

“They say London crowds don’t like to dance, but you’re fucking great”, exclaims a gangly Ryan Jarman somehow managing to stand spread eagle between the stage and the crowd…“The Cribs fans are a different breed.”

As the crowd turn ‘Another Number’ into a football chant, the Jarman brothers begin flinging their guitars around the petite stage and stomp on the drum set with an air of sloppy sophistication. Ever the showman, Ryan aggressively pins down the introduction to fan favourite ‘Mirror Kissers’ whilst screaming the chorus in his iconic Wakefield growl and performing jumping jacks as bassist, Gary uses vocal overlaps.

The trio’s new material from ‘For All My Sisters’, out next month, is sincerely received. Usually a point when moans would bellow across a venue, in this instance, the crowd are so excited that it doesn’t particularly matter. The new songs sound genuine and concise, like eating marmite straight from the jar. As the audience willingly comply to the demands of a mosh pit for ‘An Ivory Hand’, ‘Summer of Chances’ and ‘Burning For No One’, all possessing idiosyncratic Cribs qualities that still work eleven years after their self-titled debut.

As Ryan apologies for nearly messing up parts of the new material, ‘I’m a Realist’ and ‘Come On and Be A No One’ rile the crowd up as some kind of audio anthem for the youth, whilst the emotional phantasmagoria of ‘Cheat on Me’ sounds as invigorating as it did in 2009. Slamming the mic and mic stand onto the floor during ‘Our Bovine Public’, Ryan commands the entire stage, as he does during the entire performance, in possibly the deepest V-neck t-shirt ever made.

If you had any doubts, don’t, The Cribs definitely still work.