Chasing an escape from the family’s shadow, Cruz Beckham delivers debut EP ‘Wear & Tear’
Taking lessons from ‘60s psych and ‘90s Britpop, baggy indie swagger soundtracks Euro ‘96 nostalgia, but stops short of the sharp highs of those glory days.
Photo: Liberty Adams
Cruz Beckham. A name already familiar to many. Simultaneously, he’s got nothing and everything to prove. Not an easy gig, regardless of his beginnings.
Beckham reckons he’s been writing since he was eleven years old, estimating a backlog of over one thousand self-penned songs, though just six have made the cut for debut EP Wear & Tear. He’s had some help with these, of course, enlisting support from songwriter-producers Justin Raisen and Lewis Pesacov (bridging the industry gap from FIDLAR to Charli XCX between them).
Don’t forget about the Breakers, either. Though Cruz is carrying the weight of his last name, the backing band are doing most of the heavy lifting when it comes to the music. In terms of equal spotlight, they are, to Beckham, what the High Flying Birds are to Noel Gallagher. Still, as a complete outfit, they drew crowds at last month’s Reading Festival, gifting the audience with acoustic and electric material.
Dumb Down kicks things off. Answering fan questions on Instagram after its launch, Beckham said this track was very nearly left off the EP. Though it’s the opener, it’s definitely one of the weakest offerings. Guitar solos are deliberately fuzzed and tinny, in short but sweet bursts. At times, vocally, Beckham is yet to make up his mind whether he’s trying to be Liam Gallagher or Harry Styles. The Britpop-rock theme we’re confronted with gets a little cheesy, but the music video’s psychedelic imagery is a nice nod back in time to his retro (and very telling) influences.
Convincing and catchy, the title track is undoubtedly the EP’s strongest entry, beginning with a woozy, Stone Roses-style guitar-and-drums arrangement. Beckham’s softer vocals are better suited to this type of track, borrowing heavily from the more wistful tones of John Lennon and Oasis.
Its video has an effective, ‘90s-reminiscent vibe, not least because it sees him whack out the Jarvis Cocker charity-shop get-up (unforgivably pairing flip-flops with the dressed-down vintage trousers and shirt-and-patterned-tie combo) and — between lots of sleepy, Bez-like head-nodding — attempt all kinds of dodgy dance moves to prove he can be just as awkward and goofy as everyone else. He seems to be enjoying himself, anyway.
Better Times (with its sleepy Happy Mondays intro, emotive singing and guitar break palate cleanser) and Loneliest Boy (the acoustic number and the Half the World Away of the record) both have a general appeal that grows on you, but neither break any new ground. Beckham jokingly declared the latter as his favourite track to perform live because it gives him a breather from an otherwise lively set. Loneliest Boy feels autobiographical, more emotionally mature and, although nothing exceptional, a chance for him to show off his (mostly) serviceable vocals and guitar-playing.
The last two tracks try to do things differently — not entirely successfully, it must be said. WANNABE teases us with its title (a clever marketing ploy) but reveals itself to be a very on-the-nose homage to his musical heroes and a rejection of conformity, rather than anything close to the better-known ‘90s hit that shares its name and runs in his family.
In a recent interview, Beckham expressed that he’d always felt like an “old soul” and maybe name-checking Bowie, Jagger and Lennon here is his way of expressing this. It’s some of the more straightforward lyrics that take the most ambiguous stance: “If there’s one thing I’m not gonna be / It’s like you”. It’s interesting to hear some more attitude, but he needs to work out whether he’s speaking or singing. Eventually, it transforms into a Liam-does-Lennon performance, in time for a somewhat soulful ending.
Again, Seeing Red tries to be edgier, featuring a non-committal, rap-meets-spoken-word verse and some cringey drug slang. The overall sound will appeal to a lot of pop-rock fans, but the vocals are weaker, and the lyrics aren’t as effortlessly clever as they’d like to be.
Ultimately, whilst ticking all the boxes of a Britpop cliché, the EP is trying a bit too hard to be deliberately reminiscent of the era, but it still makes for an interesting angle that, at times, is executed pretty well. Cruz Beckham is going to have to come out with at least a few more unique releases before fully shedding that weighty, nepo-baby skin. But, even if the EP’s latter half significantly dips in quality, it’s also the half that shows him actively trying to find his own footing, and you can’t knock him for that.
Wear & Tear is out now via Republic Records.