Franz Ferdinand, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand
Featured Album
The fresh-faced boys start going dissolute - it becomes them
Somewhere in a rise to pop stardom that began with the breakout success of the sexy, slow-grinding "Take Me Out," Franz Ferdinand started going a little … dark. Not profound, mind you; they still aren't thinking much beyond how they look with their cigarettes dangled at this rakish angle. But the innocence of that fresh-faced debut has faded. Then, they were fresh-faced young prep school lads full of giggling flirtation, harmless boys playing at being leering wolves.
Now, well…what a difference a couple years can make. On Tonight: Franz Ferdinand, the marquee attractions look decidedly worse for wear — 5 'o clock shadows, whiskey on the breath, yellow-rimmed, bloodshot eyes. Alex Kapranos' arch flirtations have turned creepily direct: "Come on, let's get high," he whispers on the opening track "Ulysses," and it's enough to make you instinctively shout "I need an adult!" The music, too, is darker and sleazier — "Ulysses" comes adorned with the kind of squelching synth line that recalls the heart-hammering queasiness of a bad hit of coke.
Luckily, dissolution becomes them, and in any case they are pretty clearly just playing another game of dress-up. The scare quotes in their world-weary posing become visible as early as first single "No You Girls": "Ohhh, kiss me/Lick your cigarette, then kiss me/Kiss me where your eyes won't meet me" Kapranos moans, and the ripeness of the moment is worthy of burlesque. The song itself is yet another bald rewrite of the "Take Me Out" chorus, and it feels a bit like the pro forma Franz Ferdinand First Single. They save their best, and weirdest, moments for the rest of the album: on the "weird" end, there's "Lucid Dreams," an eight-minute pileup of Ed Banger drums and keyboards with an extended, hammering outro. And then there's "Katherine Kiss Me," a disarming three-minute acoustic breeze late in the album that sounds like the airy intro to "Jacqueline" expanded to song-length. If they ever decide to stop peering down the length of the bar, they could re-camp out in the fields and make one hell of an acoustic album.
