Franz Ferdinand, the Glasgow rock band formed in 2001, has always done what it wants with little regard for precedent. In fact, it turned its abandoned warehouse of a practice arena into a venue for a series of underground raves that specifically incorporated art. After the band was busted for its illicit parties and thrown in jail for a short period, it released its first EP, Darts of Pleasure, on Domino records. The EP garnered critical acclaim and drew a healthy fan base promoting its reputation as a Scottish Interpol. Darts of Pleasure showcased the band’s propensity for witty satire and aggressiveness.
The new self-titled LP takes Franz Ferdinand’s music a step forward in complexity of arrangement, offering the fullest version of its sound. The new album demonstrates that Franz Ferdinand is firm in its sound and will not compromise to persuade tentative listeners.
The opening track, “Jacqueline,” starts with a down-tempo, gloomy guitar blanketed with breathy romantic lyrics suggesting a quiet, reflective tone. However, when the funky drums and crunchy, bouncy bass enter the track, Franz Ferdinand’s dance-inspired aggression shines through. Later, whirling, razor-sharp guitars lash out at the listener in a declaration of hedonism. This song sets the tone for an album that is dark in its own esoteric fashion. It’s not introspective or sentimental, but it is brutally honest. Franz Ferdinand embraces darkness by enveloping it in dance beats and guitar duels which splash the album with decadence. Darkness has never been so fun.
And that’s what separates Franz Ferdinand from Interpol. Interpol’s music sounds disaffected and ominously moody, while Franz Ferdinand thrives in the darkest region of its music and aggressively harnesses that darkness into a tantalizing, hedonistic treat. Even when Ferdinand singer Alex Kapranos explores hopeless, lusty romanticism on “Auf Achse,” singing: “You want her / You can’t have her / You want to / But she won’t let you,” his voice does not reflect fruitlessness of his desires. The keyboards that begin the song suggest a turn to sentiment, but only for a second, as the song is quickly transformed into a disco groove bearing high-hat-riding drums that beg you to dance no matter how inappropriate it may seem.
Franz Ferdinand’s ability to approach brooding lyrics in an unconventional, peppy fashion is both a strength and a weakness. On the one hand, the juxtaposition of pessimistic lyrics and manic, rock-driven dance music creates an energetic catharsis allowing for a sweat-soaked embrace of matter that could easily depress. On the other hand, this juxtaposition prevents Franz Ferdinand from communicating a rounded perspective. The band’s consistent musical treatment of its lyrics seems limited. Its up-tempo, ferocious music is appropriate when Kapranos sports wit or satire, but when the same music is set to darker lyrics, it’s not exactly clear what the band is trying to communicate.
Whether or not the album seems appropriate, it suggests major potential for the band to flourish within its unique, unclassifiable sound. Franz Ferdinand is already blowing up the charts in Britain, which will likely solidify a future release. Hopefully any future projects will give a clearer understanding of exactly where this band is coming from.
Grade: A/B
