Spiritual Cramp isn’t playing it safe anymore. The Bay Area band is going for it on Rude, their new record for Blue Grape Music. The comfort of San Francisco’s hardcore scene, their home base and safety net, is something frontman Michael Bingham pointedly rejects. “I don’t wanna go, go back home, where I belong, all the skinheads sing my song,” he shouts on the album’s second track, rejecting nostalgia and comfort.

Their 2023 self-titled debut was Bingham’s vision almost entirely. A sharp, dub-heavy record that wore its Clash-inspired punk proudly. Those songs had a pulse but followed a blueprint. Rude is what happens when a band stops following and starts defining. Now a fully collaborative group, they expand on that foundation, pulling from every era of punk and leaning further into rock.

Produced by John Congleton (Mannequin Pussy, Angel Du$t, The Menzingers) and mixed by Carlos de la Garza (Paramore, The Linda Lindas), Rude is cleaner without losing intensity. The production highlights how naturally Spiritual Cramp move between punch and polish.

“Automatic” shows that shift early. It’s fast and melodic, pushing toward pop without losing bite. “You’ve Got My Number,” featuring Sharon Van Etten, finds the band at their most tuneful. The feature is unexpected — on paper, it shouldn’t work, but it does. Her voice opens a new dimension for the band, showing they can be vulnerable without losing their bite. The duet recalls Against Me!’s “Borne on the FM Waves of the Heart,” not as imitation but for its emotional reach.

“I Hate the Way I Look” snaps everything back into motion. Its percussive intro echoes The Damned’s “New Rose,” quick and unfiltered. It’s self-aware and energetic, connecting punk’s earliest chaos to the present without leaning on nostalgia.

“Violence in the Supermarket” takes another turn. Built on a reggae groove, it carries the bounce and humor of The English Beat. The rhythm is sly and offbeat, the sound of a band unafraid to wander into punk’s stranger corners, where tension and groove live side by side. “Young Offenders” follows with the record’s biggest grin, a love letter to the Bay Area that channels the wit and chaos of Dead Kennedys-era San Francisco punk. Together they underline how wide Spiritual Cramp’s reach has become—pulling from punk’s playful, political, and downright odd traditions without sounding like tourists in any of them.

Across Rude, Bingham sounds more assured than ever. He’s aware of how the band is perceived and uses that awareness to sharpen the music. There are still traces of hardcore, Oi!, and post-punk, but they are part of the larger canvas now.

Rude proves that Spiritual Cramp can touch every corner of punk without losing their pulse. They sound fearless, fully formed, and ready for whatever comes next.

Order RUDE by Spiritual Cramp HERE