On my annual album wrap-up, I coyly hinted that Franz Ferdinand may be my favorite band. The truth is, they really are, and I’ve started to understand why.
First, their music is fun. A little kitschy, a little campy, and…are they queer?
“Michael you’re the boy with all the leather hips,
sticky hair, sticky hips, stubble on my sticky lips
Michael, you’re the only one I’d ever want
only one I’d ever want, only one I’d ever want
Beautiful boys on a beautiful dancefloor
Michael, you’re dancing like a beautiful dance whore
Michael, waiting on a silver platter now … and nothing matters now,”
(“Michael,” Franz Ferdinand)
“Well he’s a friend and we’re so proud of ya
Your famous friend well I blew him before ya”
(“Do You Want To,” You Could Have It So Much Better)
Yes, it’s a little unclear at times, but that’s part of the fun.
What I truly love about Franz Ferdinand is that when I first listen to their albums, every song sounds the same to me. This is not usually a good thing, but on continued listenings, each song cracks open and becomes something amazing—all the little nuances that go into each track come alive, become clear, and instead of becoming boring and familiar, the songs deepen. It’s hot.
Franz Ferdinand also experiment a lot with drum beats. I have a thing for drummers, it’s true; but still—I love a band that will radically change the song beat mid-song. This is a playful band, an experimental band, and a brave band.
Alex Kapranos is a great frontman. His vocals sound like a dirty, sexual blend of David Bowie, Mel Torme, and Dr. Frank N. Further of Rocky Horror fame.
Delicious.
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