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Franz Ferdinand

 
Franz Ferdinand
Franz Ferdinand

This is how music works in Vancouver: a basically unknown band from unknown parts of the world starts getting a little bit of buzz in the 'indie world.' They start showing up in tiny magazines that people with tight jeans and Converse wear and they quickly make a name for themselves. So the band tours and they rock the place at certain venues and there's a date for Vancouver on their tour, and then all of a sudden, like a giant tsunami, before people who actually like the band can get tickets, the show sells out and people who are too busy listening to the album don't have a chance to get tickets to the show. I had been listening to Franz Ferdinand's ass-kicking debut before I knew they were even touring, but by the time I heard there were tickets, every wanna-be hipster in this damn city snagged them up and I couldn't go. SOOO, seeing as I didn't wanna torture myself, I stopped listening to the CD because I didn't want to hear what I was missing. This worked for about 2 weeks, but like a fool, I was dancing away to "Darts of Pleasure" quicker than I could say I LOVE GLASGOW. This debut from these Scottish art-students gone wrong is, simply put, great. It's not a musical breakthrough in any sense, seeing that its basically a HOW-TO for the 80s, but there's nothing wrong with that. Kapranos' voice is often too ripped off to sound genuine, and the guitar often fails to really break new grounds; but for its minor inconsistencies, the album gets the kids up and dancing and in today's obese times, we can't ask for much more. That said, this review has 2 motives. One, get people to hear this record. Two, get people in Vancouver to stop trying to look so damn cool by going to see bands that they don't know and leaving tickets for people who know the band and are just not as keen to scoop up tickets, but I'm ranting now so this review is over.

Darren Susin

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