franz ferdinand
...hanges and mid-song tempo drops, yet its solidity prevents it from consignment to the gratuitously quirky bin. If you feel that the Rapture lack a sense of drama and Interpol lack joy and energy, then Franz Ferdinand are the boys for you. Their stated ambition is to erase the Archduke Franz Ferdinand from the annals of history and replace him in the collective consciousness with themselves. Every once in a great while, a group comes a long and makes the standard rock format of guitars, bass, drums and voice sound completely new. Franz Ferdinand are not that band. No, this is a far more familiar proposition. You may have heard phrases like "new-wave" and "punk-funk" and "1979" cropping up in discussion of the band, and fair play: their raw, rattling sound is not unfriendly to the current iteration of revivalist zeitgeist. But it's perhaps an indication of how unfunky rock music has become that Franz Ferdinand have been talked about as dance-rock fusionists. They do have an excellent drummer in their midst, and he does enjoy opening his hi-hat on the downbeat in the way that disco drummers used to … but, ya know, that's about the extent of it. To their credit, Franz Ferdinand seem to recognize that rock'n'roll is already quite danceable when it's played well. The Rapture they are not. Their lineage really extends well beyond post-punk, and as early as last year's Darts of Pleasure EP they were showcasing the kind of stomping rhythms, sticky choruses and predilection for looking daft and talking bollocks that have been the hallmark of great British artrockers from The Kinks to Blur via The Smiths. (Indeed, the post-punkers they recall most may be quintissential artschoolers XTC). With album-teaser "Take Me Out" finding a deserved place in the upper regions of the pop charts in Britain, their (inevitably) self-titled debut now has a question answer: do they have the songs to match their obvious ambition? Looking good, lads. Franz Ferdinand is a very confident debut, not least because it shuns two of the stellar b-sides from Darts of Pleasure. They've added subtlety without sacrificing their boundless energy or taste for the absurd: Indeed on the gay dancefloor-cruising "Michael" they prove they're still willing to take an hilarious step too far. The arrangements are splendid, wearing British Invasion pop, disco, punk and indie like so many lived-in jumpers, and absolutely everything packs a tune. Most songs have two or three. Franz Ferdinand's weakness, if they have one, may be their archness, and the fine line they walk between enjoyably daft artrock and ironically-mustachioed ridiculousness. "Cheating On You" is a great tune undermined slightly by its nasty smirk, "Darts of Pleasure" is -- well, it's called "Darts of Pleasure," ferchrissakes -- and "Michael's" lisping German homoeroticism is just silly. But all three feel at home here, and it would be a mistake to sacrifice their spirit of adventure for a further taste of the chart action afforded by the comparatively straight (if absolutely ferocious) "Take Me Out." If they're going to take their place next to their forebears, they'll have to do it on their own terms. Franz Ferdinand is a good start. Every once in a great while, a group comes a long and makes the standard rock format of guitars, bass, drums and voice sound completely new. Franz Ferdinand are not that band. No, this is a far more familiar proposition. You may have heard phrases like "new-wave" and "punk-funk" and "1979" cropping up in discussion of the band, and fair play: their raw, rattling sound is not unfriendly to the current iteration of revivalist zeitgeist. But it's perhaps an indication of how unfunky rock music has become that Franz Ferdinand have been talked about as dance-rock fusionists. They do have an excellent drummer in their midst, and he does enjoy opening his hi-hat on the downbeat in the way that disco drummers used to … but, ya know, that's about the extent of it. To their credit, Franz Ferdinand seem to recognize that rock'n'roll is already quite danceable when it's played well. The Rapture they are not. Their lineage really extends well beyond post-punk, and as early as last year's Darts of Pleasure EP they were showcasing the kind of stomping rhythms, sticky choruses and predilection for looking daft and talking bollocks that have been the hallmark of great British artrockers from The Kinks to Blur via The Smiths. (Indeed, the post-punkers they recall most may be quintissential artschoolers XTC). With album-teaser "Take Me Out" finding a deserved place in the upper regions of the pop charts in Britain, their (inevitably) self-titled debut now has a question answer: do they have the songs to match their obvious ambition? Looking good, lads. Franz Ferdinand is a very confident debut, not least because it shuns two of the stellar b-sides from Darts of Pleasure. They've added subtlety without sacrificing their boundless energy or taste for the absurd: Indeed on the gay dancefloor-cruising "Michael" they prove they're still willing to take an hilarious step too far. The arrangements are splendid, wearing British Invasion pop, disco, punk and indie like so many lived-in jumpers, and absolutely everything packs a tune. Most songs have two or three. Franz Ferdinand's weakness, if they have one, may be their archness, and the fine line they walk between enjoyably daft artrock and ironically-mustachioed ridiculousness. "Cheating On You" is a great tune undermined slightly by its nasty smirk, "Darts of Pleasure" is -- well, it's called "Darts of Pleasure," ferchrissakes -- and "Michael's" lisping German homoeroticism is just silly. But all three feel at home here, and it would be a mistake to sacrifice their spirit of adventure for a further taste of the chart action afforded by the comparatively straight (if absolutely ferocious) "Take Me Out." If they're going to take their place next to their forebears, they'll have to do it on their own terms. Franz Ferdinand is a good start. Scotland, the home of kilts, haggis, football hooligans and ... indie dance rock? Well, let's not go that far, but Franz Ferdinand is putting Glasgow on the modern-day garage-rock disco map. Emerging from Glasgow's art school scene, the four boys in Franz Ferdinand (Robert Hardy, Alexander Kapranos, Nicholas McCarthy and Paul Thomson) wanted to make music girls could shake to, and they don't deny that. Shortly after, both boys and girls began hearing the call of the bass lines and started rushing t...