Franz Ferdinand - The Fallen / L. Wells

(Domino, 2006)

I watched the Grammys tonight in between trips to the laundromat, and I was both pleased and a little depressed to see my old buddy Paul McCartney performing “I Saw Her Standing There” with a graying Dave Grohl behind him on drums. If Paul had a better sense of humor, it seems like he’d consider changing the word “seventeen” to “seventy” when croaking out that moldy chestnut these days in order to minimize the creepiness of his saggy yappings. Maybe next time; I’ll hold my breath. Still, big congrats, Paul, on getting two nominations for a limited-edition live 12” EP that trickled out via Amoeba Records. I’ll sleep easy knowing that heavy behind-the-scenes, glad-handing lobbying on the part of your label had nothing to do with that.

Hey! Franz Ferdinand!

Credit where due: This 7” has THREE non-album tracks, and that ain’t hardly bad a’TALL in these days of value-free singles galore. Thanks F. Ferdinand! And believe me now when I accuse YOU of someday in the past or future enjoying the rump-roast out of ONE side of the record, that being side B – the lead track is, sad to say, a worthless Justice remix of “The Fallen” that reduces an otherwise swell F.F. hit to tired, skittery dancefloor dum-dumminess while adding nothing of any musical or ass-shakin’ interest. HARUMPH. Buh buh buh but… newie “L. Wells” on the flip is a treat for sure, a mid-tempo love-fest that bridges the gap between the band’s standard all-out slink-fests and the sentimental slow’uns like “Eleanor Put Your Boots On.” Xylophone, bursts of harmony vox, and an unmistakable sincerity give it the heft it needs in order to achieve buy-me meritoriousness. Next up, “Brown Onions” is a dirty, slightly bluesy instrumental jam that offers a peek at the less-polished side of the group. Whether we need to see that side or not, I dunno, but here it is anyway… AND IT’S FINE ’NUFF.

Franz Ferdinand - Do You Want To

(Domino, 2005)

The first single from Franz Ferdinand’s second record is just the sort of glammy and obnoxious posturing that suits the band perfectly – they pull off the reptilian, hyper-entitled star thing with ease (“Lucky lucky! You’re so lucky!” is the amusing lyrical come-on to prospective groupies), and the music, hooky as ever, features beefier guitar and a groovier rhythm section than the rather streamlined, same-y debut LP. Pop trash as unabashed as it oughta be! “Get Away” is a short, Kinks/Pebbles-esque outtake that cues up the requisite pounding, plinky piano rhythm and la-la-la’s that mark it, yeah, as a formal exercise, but it’s still a fun throwaway that would’ve done its job well enough in the old days as mix-tape filler.

Franz Ferdinand - Matinee

(Domino, 2004)

“Take Me Out” was a huge bar-hit back in 2004, and its inescapability that semi-employed summer eventually led me to give in and seek out a physical copy after hearing my thousandth late-night play of the song. Luckily, I had a friend doing grunt work on the floor of the Virgin Megastore in Union Square at the time, so I was soon able to satisfy my curiosity by getting it and a handful of other Franz Ferdinand CD and 7” singles at steep discounts (as was necessary when living on babysitter wages). And while this one, “Matinee,” isn’t quite as towering a pop achievement as the half-Strokesian, half-disco-strut hybrid of “Take Me Out,” it’s yet another example of the band’s rather shocking ability to churn out songs that ALL SOUND LIKE HITS. No joshing: these guys were and are SMART and HOOKY as heck, what with those hi-hat boogie beats and stabby guitars, all wrapped in a crooning, fashion-conscious smarminess that is, I think, a wink-and-sarcasm-spiked update on the Duran Duran pretty-boy model. An excellent record. Absolutely! The B-side, like many of the extras on the early singles, is an alternate version of a song from the debut LP, this time a live recording of the gay-tease fave “Michael” on American radio that doesn’t differ enough from the regular to make it of any real worth. Not bad, however, and fine proof that the group can pull its shit off in concert, for those who care. And yet: the larger tendency towards Franz Ferdinand seems to be dismissal and/or an easy total-ignore due to the obvious chart-whoring and teeny-bop appeal. I’m not of that mind; for the most part, this is a guilty pleasure worth indulging. And if not now, certainly when the inevitable – and inevitably quite OK – best-of comes out. Might as well stay ahead of the curve, I reckon.

Flying Saucer Attack - Coming Home

(Domino, 1997)

One more! “Coming Home” is a cover of a band called the Prisoners, done here in a very space-rock fashion, much like the Boston and Philly groups of the late ’90s, and not too far from what Spacemen 3 was up to in the early days. A terrific, repeating guitar part keeps the song in hypnotic head-nod territory while the ultra-basic toms and untreated voice give us a grittier and more human Flying Saucer Attack than we’ve heard in years past. And? Searing guitars and a languid tempo characterize the less satisfying “Hope,” which would exist as semi-aggressive filler on an LP had it been compiled – unlike all other FSA singles, these songs appear nowhere else, so you’d better pony up for this one if you want to walk proud among the Initiated.

After this, Pearce would put out one more album – Mirror – and then retire the group name, seemingly for good. As far as I know, there have only been his Clear Horizon collaboration with Jessica Bailiff and VHF’s officially-sanctioned tape-scrounging live/rehearsal CDR (PA Blues) since then. Even if it’s only gonna be further archival whatsit, let’s keep those fingers crossed for more releases in the years to come; FSA’s material didn’t vary too widely, but it was/is consistently satisfying and exhilarating stuff that hangs together awfully well – aesthetically? vision-wise? – as a body of dense, lo-fi, post-psych work. Where you at, Dave Pearce?! COME BACK!

Beautiful New Born Children - Do The Do

(Domino, 2005)

I feel guilty and dopey comparing a garage rawk single to both the White Stripes and the Strokes, but sit back now and watch as I do it anyway. Here we’ve got two short bursts of fast, trebly, guitar-based rock ’n’ roll with bash-bash-bash drumming; very American! Seeks simple transcendence through anyone-can-do-it boneheadedness – though no hints of rock brutality, unfortunately – and the lead vox wail away atop everything with a definite Jack White-style nasal twang. Golly, it’s hard not to get wrapped up in those misty memories of the class of ’01, especially as the over-saturated vocals also seem to employ the same recording technique used on the early Strokes records. And such comparisons only hurt Beautiful New Born Children, cuz their elders, though their faults were many, simply wrote better songs than these (Granted: B-side “Paper Mill” does have a jaunty, choppy rhythm that is itself rather Strokesian and rather pleasant). This single’s not quite a dud, but really, you’ve heard it all before, and none of this is catchy enough or wild enough (no wacky coconuts, no wacky loco-nuts here) to make any of it matter. For fetishists only.