Spiritual Cramp

Spiritual Cramp aren’t looking for a soapbox. The San Francisco‑born punk experimentalists are here to flash a big smile, flip you off, deliver a burst of musical adrenaline, and then keep on walking. “But at the same time, that's something that I'm working on,” vocalist Michael Bingham knowingly grins. On their upcoming sophomore album, RUDE (due TK via Blue Grape Music), Spiritual Cramp discover a newfound balance between impish cheekiness, emotional vulnerability, and rabid energy. “When you focus on yourself and the people around you, you can keep your side of the street clean,” Bingham says. “And when I see the opposite of that, I get kind of offended, which is what a lot of these songs are about.”

From the very first seconds of RUDE’s opening track “I’m an Anarchist”, Spiritual Cramp make it clear what their side of the street is. The record is framed with the tuning of an FM dial and the voice of DJ Crash (played by percussionist Jose Luna), introducing Wild 87 Radio and the “San Francisco rude boy sound.” The fictitious radio station takes its name from the band’s original moniker prior to renaming themselves after a song by Christian Death, and it recurs on the album as a way to keep the band grounded in their SF roots. “My foundation is in San Francisco, California, and from there I can go anywhere and be who I am,” Bingham says. The song that follows the radio intro grounds listeners in the Spiritual Cramp musical language, Bingham delivering tongue‑in‑cheek sloganeering (“I’m an anarchist, so leave me alone”) over clap‑along sunshine punk.

While Spiritual Cramp have refined their kaleidoscopic take on rock over nearly a decade, RUDE marks the start of a new era for the band. Bingham and bassist Mike Fenton have been the band’s constants and wrote the majority of the group’s songs across several lineup changes. After touring in support of their 2023 self‑titled debut, the new lineup — Bingham, Fenton, percussionist Jose Luna, guitarists Nate Punty and Orville Neeley III, and drummer Julian Smith — gelled enough that the co‑founders brought everyone into the room for the writing process. “It really helped give color and energy to the whole record,” Fenton says. The results bound between new wave burn, indie rock swagger, old‑school punk, and even dub and hip‑hop flourishes.

The thumping rhythm and chunky guitar riffs of album highlight “At My Funeral” showcase that evolved fusion and Bingham’s self‑deprecating humor: “At my funeral/ Nobody came/ Everybody knew/ My shit was lame,” he deadpans. The following track, “Automatic”, uses similarly muscly, Clash‑indebted guitars with a neon dance‑punk swagger and a soaring chorus.

A major factor in RUDE’s amplified genre experimentation was working with a producer for the first time. After talking with a few potential collaborators, the band connected with Grammy‑winning producer John Congleton. “I didn’t know if it would be a good fit. I’m a high‑intensity guy and he seems pretty mellow,” Bingham says. “I like working with other insane people, but I learned he’s crazy in the studio. When we met he started talking about Stiff Little Fingers, the Stranglers, and Public Enemy, and I know he’s done everything from indie rock to hip‑hop. We’re basically a ’70s punk band inspired by rap, so it was a perfect match.”

That collision shows up on the DEVO‑addled “Young Offenders”, where pulsing electronics and a stuttery bridge underpin a fist‑pumping punk chorus: “Expensive clothes/ Explosive fights/ There’s no better place everything will be just fine/ Just another warm San Francisco night/ Where everyday is the best day of my life.” The tracks on RUDE feel dense and lush, but full of light and life. “We got crazy in the studio this time,” Fenton says.

One notable guest appearance is Sharon Van Etten on the slow‑burning “You’ve Got My Number”. Bingham and Van Etten trade lines in the smoky verses and build to a thunderous blend of staccato vocals and thumping percussion at the chorus: “You’ve got my number/ But you won’t call me.” Bingham says he pictured “a reggae song with a big rock chorus” for Van Etten and that she “sounds incredible.” “I’ve always said I want to be the Sharon Van Etten of punk,” he adds.

Whether it’s the riotously fun self‑loathing anthem “I Hate the Way That I Look” or the dubby “Violence in the Supermarket”, Spiritual Cramp keep pushing their musical boundaries while maintaining a witty, fun‑loving heart. “Sometimes we’d write something and everyone in the room would think it was totally nuts,” Fenton laughs. “And then we’d finish it, and it was great to realize we weren’t crazy.” “As a band, we have a cool thing that people like, but we can always get better,” Bingham says. “People who listen know where we stand, and this record paints a picture of what it feels like to be in Spiritual Cramp.”

24Tix Spiritual Cramp - at Kilby Court (Salt Lake City)