The Cribs

They deserve that much at least. Because, frankly, The Cribs are a national treasure. Particularly now they've fully assimilated Marr into the ranks. At a couple of the shows this year it couldn't help but feel that he was only there for novelty value, but now, he's a fully integrated part of the Jarman clan.

No longer The Cribs featuring Johnny Marr, it's just The Cribs, and you can't spot where the Jarman ends and the Marr-man begins. What you can feel is the added weight and bite he gives some of the tricksier guitar lines.

It's billed as a warm up gig for their performances at Leeds and Reading, but given that they've spent the entire summer carting round festivals all over Europe it's hard to see how they couldn't have been pretty well-stretched already. Still, it's been a while since they've played somewhere as cramped as this and for the 600 or so people crammed in tonight there was a celebratory feel in the air.

But then again, when is there not at a Cribs gig. The usual opening one-two-three of Our Bovine Public, Hey Scenesters! and Don't You Wanna Be Relevant? might be as predictable a triumvirate as could have been expected, but when you've got songs that ace you don't really need surprises.

Which is good, because as aside from the unfinished, untitled new one deposited three-quarters of the way through proceedings there weren't any. But it doesn't matter, because what we did were the best bits of Men's Needs, Woman's Needs... Whatever and The New Fellas delivered with unstoppable gusto and immense charm.

So, for any Live Nation accountants who happen to be reading, what the fuck are you doing? Forget Madonna, forget U2, and definitely forget Nickleback. Do us all a favour and look towards Wakefield.

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