The Cribs - Night Network (LP) - Blue Translucent Vinyl

Night Network feels like a comeback that remembers why you fell for The Cribs in the first place. Wakefield’s Jarman brothers have always made tuneful racket with a stubborn heart, but this eighth album carries a different kind of charge. It landed on 20 November 2020, after a long spell of legal limbo that stalled the band’s momentum. The lifeline came from Dave Grohl, who invited them to record at Foo Fighters’ Studio 606 in Los Angeles. They took him up on it, self-produced the record, and cut it on the famed Sound City Neve console that lives at 606. You can hear that desk’s warm bite right away. The guitars have a rounded crunch, the bass sits thick in the midrange, and the drums feel like they’re breathing in the room rather than trapped in a laptop.

Lead single Running Into You is the greeting at the door, all serrated hooks and a rhythm section that sways then snaps. It’s classic Cribs: ragged harmonies, an earworm chorus, a melody built to be shouted in a venue that smells like beer and new paint. Never Thought I’d Feel Again plays the other side of the coin, sweetened with a yearning vocal and a chiming guitar figure that flirts with jangle pop before the fuzz barges back in. The brothers have long balanced snarling energy with pop smarts, and that balance is intact here, tightened by time and loosened by freedom.

There’s a reunion of sorts tucked into the middle of the album. Lee Ranaldo returns to the fold on I Don’t Know Who I Am, years after his beloved “Be Safe” cameo turned into a cult anthem. His spoken-word presence still works like a lighthouse, casting light across the band’s stormy guitar lines. It’s a small detail, but it underlines the record’s theme of community and persistence. Friends showed up when the band needed them, and the music answers with open arms.

If you’ve followed The Cribs from Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever through the Johnny Marr era of Ignore the Ignorant and the raw blast of 24-7 Rock Star Shit, you’ll hear echoes of each phase without any museum-glass nostalgia. Night Network moves. Screaming in Suburbia lives up to its title with a sprinting tempo and gang vocals that feel like a chorus of mates at the front of the stage. This Brush with Life takes a breath, letting the melody ring while the rhythm section pushes quietly from behind. Even the deep cuts have those little Cribs trademarks, like Gary’s bass stepping out of the guitar’s shadow for a counter-melody or Ross snapping the snare just a hair ahead of the beat.

The production is unfussy in the best way. No overworked sheen, just careful mic placement, good rooms, and the confidence to keep takes that feel alive. That’s why the album stands up so well on an actual system. Spin the Night Network vinyl and you get body, not just volume. The cymbals bloom instead of fizzing out, and the low end carries the songs rather than smothering them. It’s the kind of record that makes you start checking shop sites to buy The Cribs records online, then wander into a Melbourne record store to see if they’ve got a copy tucked behind the new releases. If you’re browsing The Cribs albums on vinyl, this sits comfortably beside The New Fellas and For All My Sisters as a keeper.

The story behind it gives the songs extra gravity, but the music doesn’t lean on that backstory to make its case. It doesn’t need to. You can come in cold, drop the needle, and get pulled along by choruses that cling and guitars that don’t apologize for being loud. Night Network sounds like a band who remembered that the work is the reward, that friendship is a renewable resource, and that three musicians in a good room can still make a bigger noise than any trend. If you collect The Cribs vinyl, this one earns shelf space on songs and spirit alone. And if you’re crate-digging somewhere in the world of vinyl records Australia, give this a test spin. You’ll hear a tight-knit band shaking off the dust and getting back to the thing they do better than almost anyone: smart, heartfelt, scruffy pop songs that make you want to sing with strangers.