The Cribs
Selling A Vibe
If there’s one thing that Selling A Vibe does exceptionally, it’s prove that first-gen indie-sleaze is far from a bustling enterprise all these years later. Granted, the Brothers Jarman have been as second-string as the come for most of their tenure; their last (and, really, only) spike of notoriety was Men’s Needs, Women’s Needs, Whatever in 2007. Even the addition of Actual Johnny Marr to their ranks afterwards wasn’t much of a stim-pack. So, when Selling A Vibe feels plucked from the indie landfill that it’s been The Cribs’ God-given purpose to languish in, are you surprised? Does it shock you that, in 2026, they bear the greatest likeness to a piece of dead wood—stiff, unvarnished, dehydrated and totally unreliable for structural use?
This completely sauce-free garage-rock platter seldom even has the good graces to kick and scream and make itself known. Even the worst of the them will still do that, instead of clamming up and ensuring any impression dissipates on impact. Selling A Vibe is allegedly more pop-leaning, though, in a way that requires more explanation than given. If ‘pop-leaning’ means employing these tiny progressions sapped of all power and left to live as rheumatic husks…well, you have to wonder what definition of ‘pop’ The Cribs are actually using. It’s the wrong one, if it encapsulates the unmoving grunt of guitar that floods out the title track, or the clanky, unflattering compositions that seem set as standard.
And yet, even with that tone established, unshakable and insufferable, The Cribs still expect to achieve something. Just take Brothers Won’t Break as a closer, a walk into the sunset that feels it’s earned its fraternal whimsy, only for shoddily multi-tracked vocals and an incessant clap to replicate antiseptic, faux-sunny indie-pop that’s never as cheerful as it thinks it is. By comparison, the skippy anachronisms Never The Same and If Our Paths Never Cross are anthems for the ages; they’re blatant Inbetweeners-core, but at least those songs were earworms. More often than not, the rest of Selling A Vibe—with its puffed-out demeanour and consistently shabby singing from Ryan Jarman—leaves you with total emptiness. Back to the landfill with you.
For fans of: The Libertines, The Pigeon Detectives, We Are Scientists
‘Selling A Vibe’ by The Cribs is out now on PIAS.
Beyond The Black
Break The Silence
Break The Silence plays out like it wants to be Beyond The Black’s Hydra. Why? Not too sure, honestly. That album arguably represented the beginning of Within Temptation’s slump after the fantastic The Unforgiving, and depending on who you ask, they’re yet to fully get out of it. Beyond The Black, on the other hand, have the added sky-high hurdle of not being among symphonic-metal’s top brass. So in the instances where they’re obviously trying to make themselves known through new pivots and a bevy of global guest stars and musical cues, this is still a Beyond The Black album.
Not a bad one, per se, which might be the solitary edge it has on Hydra. Its much-memed Xzibit collaboration notwithstanding, that album really was a clunker in terms of staying power, especially compared to what Within Temptation had done directly before. Break The Silence is a lot more even-keeled; there’s no banner team-up pushed beyond belief, but the average is at least steadier. Let There Be Rain might read as more on paper with its feature from The Bulgarian State Television Female Vocal Choir, but they’re little more than a vehicle for added support. As for Lord Of The Lost on The Art Of Being Alone or Lovebites singer Asami on Can You Hear Me, the latter’s top layer of J-rock fizz is the extent of adequate (and short-lived) outreach.
But just in general, the power-metal pop that sugars up the likes of the title track and The Flood gives Beyond The Black a good bar to work with. Slick production, strong solos and an expectedly powerhouse showcase of Jennifer Haben’s voice are the additional staples met with no bother. That said, it wouldn’t hurt Beyond The Black to go grander. The best stuff of this sound always tends to, and Break The Silence fitting the mid-range status of its creators doesn’t do anything but kneecap it. Getting rid of these off, chopped-up vocal samples would be a good start; it’s a bad introduction to the album when Rising High’s use of them sits as naturally as a balaclava would on the artwork’s hollowed-out head.
Ultimately, there isn’t a lot outside of ‘power-metal stuff’ that’s achieved with Break The Silence. Even in dalliances with French and German on (La Vie Est Un) Cinéma and Weltschmerz respectively, a genre as dyed-in-the-wool as this transcends language. It’s also not egregious, though, and probably does stack among the better works in Beyond The Black’s catalogue. Even if a Hydra-shaped harbinger of terrible things to come might’ve been more interesting, what we get is less objectionable from a standpoint of taste, and that’s still something. Even so, give it, like, a week, and there’ll probably be an album just like this released by a band you actually care about.
For fans of: Within Temptation, Delain, Ad Infinitum
‘Break The Silence’ by Beyond The Black is out now on Nuclear Blast Records.
I Promised The World
I Promised The World
Long-suffering metalcore fans sick of the fact that your genre hates itself—this one’s for you. Potentially, anyway. At the very least, it’ll have you glad that Bad Omens / Dayseeker propaganda isn’t so pervasive that everything else is blocked out. The stipulations with I Promised The World are certainly there, though. You have to be comfortable with a lot of 2000s emo and post-hardcore ground up in there, and a singer with a penchant for sounding like he’s more fringe than man. Imagine an intersection of Midwest emo, Myspace metalcore and Madina Lake, with plenty of connective tissue bringing it together. Compared to their last release, 2024’s Fear Of The Fall, I Promised The World’s self-titled EP definitely goes further with its intentions. It’s more precise and less raggedy, the kind of thing that floods every nostalgia receptor you’ve got with a swift Killswitch-ism or Finch-like chorus.
But even beyond its myriad of insta-grat dopamine hits, there’s real, tangible craft behind I Promised The World. The production is excellent without even a fleck of overt datedness, while still sounding true to the desired era. It, along with a genuinely fantastic command of what makes these sounds work, is what gives Proud and Bliss In 7 Languages so much lift and might. It’s a dense listen, too; I Promised The World aren’t ones for taking the easy route, or slapping themselves into predetermined metalcore structures that leaves this all feeling routine. When it’s all driven by the loss of vocalist / guitarist Caleb Molina’s father in 2020, sounding boxed-in is quite possibly the worst thing that could happen, and it never does. This is the sort of bold, anxious material that’s rooted in obvious past stimuli, but is never immovably beholden to its reverence. From that alone, the benchmark for 2026’s metalcore and post-hardcore is already pleasingly high.
For fans of: From First To Last, Underøath, Finch
‘I Promised The World’ by I Promised The World is released on 16th January on Rise Records.
Words by Luke Nuttall
