Daily Album Digest: May 31 - June 13, 2015

Carrying on February's Music Writer's Exercise (#MWE), each day I listen to a new album and tweet a brief review of it. Then every two weeks compile those tweets here with some extra thoughts.

5/31: The Unicorns' Who Will Cut Our Hair When We're Gone?: Very rough, lo-fi, silly, a bit morbid, and so charming.

Why? It was in my Spotify recommendations. I wish I knew how it got there.

Additional Thoughts: Much of this album feels like it came from an alternate universe where the Beatles were never under the tutelage of George Martin. Definitely not something for everyone, but I find it charming.

6/1: FFS' FFS: Unless I misheard, this album contains the line "Carrying a Hello Kitty oozie." How could I not love it?

Why? NPR streamed it a week prior to release and I just couldn’t help myself.

Additional Thoughts: I’m going to go deeper into this album in its own post, but for now I’ll say this: Just as Tonight put into relief all Franz did wrong on You Could Have It So Much Better, FFS shows just how much they were coasting on Right Thoughts Right Words Right Action.

6/1: Blur's Modern Life is Rubbish: Could've used some edits, but a definite improvement from their debut, nonetheless.

Why? I have a list of discographies I want to get through; after The Magic Whip I’ve decided to go through Blur.

Additional Thoughts: I feel like that tweet just about said it all. Maybe I just need to spend more time this album and/or Blur, but I’m not grooving with them as much as I thought I might. I do really like “Star Shaped,” though, so there’s that.

6/2: Zella Day's Kicker: A bit of a slow start, perhaps, but promising. "Jameson," in particular, is quite moving.

Why? New release. I read about her on witchsong and quite like “1965,” so I figured I’d give this a shot.

Additional Thoughts: Zella’s been compared to Lana Del Ray and I don’t know enough about Lana to agree or disagree. I do know that the vocalist she reminds me of is Stevie Nicks. I can’t put my finger on it exactly; it’s something about her lower register, like on “Jerome.” Does she have the exact same weight and bewitching quality that Stevie exhibits? Not quite, but this is only her debut, she may get there in time.

6/3: Mount Eerie's Clear Moon: Romantic (in the literary sense), atmospheric and challenging. Highlight: "Over Dark Water"

Why? I saw it reviewed on the Needle Drop.

Additional Thoughts: I’ve said before that I hesitate when music is described as “challenging,” but I really know no better way to describe this album. It’s a hard listen. One reason for that is, as I tweeted, the lyrics are very Romantic as they are very focused on nature and the way one interacts with it, which might seem obtuse or strange to some. It’s also challenging because the obtuse lyrics are delivered with vocals that are often quite meek and get buried in the mix.

6/4: Mariah Carey's Emotions: Impressive vocally, as always, but how is "The Wind" not more well-known?

Why? I’ve always loved Mariah, but there are some gaping holes in my knowledge of her work. I’m going about rectifying that.

Additional Thoughts: The tweet was mostly rhetorical, by the way. I know why “The Wind” doesn’t get much attention. It’s a jazz influenced tune about death/possible suicide – not really a good topic for the pop charts, even (or especially) if you’re Mariah Carey.  

6/5: Unknown Mortal Orchestra's Multi-Love: Some fantastic and funky psychedelia that is really a joy to listen to.

Why? Recent release; I dug the title track when I first heard it, so I figured I’d give it a listen.

Additional Thoughts: There’s been a lot of psychedelia influenced work coming out this year that I just love. I don’t why that is, but I’m going to ride the wave. This album also reminds me a lot of Stevie Wonder, such as tracks “Like Acid Rain” and “Ur Life One Night,” which are also pretty damn awesome. I feel like I should dig into the album on its own. We’ll see.

6/6: Mariah Carey's Merry Christmas: Wasn't going to mention it, but "O Holy Night" gave me too many goosebumps not to.

Why? I’ve always loved Mariah, but there are some gaping holes in my knowledge of her work. I’m going about rectifying that.

Additional Thoughts: Yeah, you could probably put Christmas albums in the same “difficult for me to discuss” category as live albums and greatest hits compilations. Christmas albums have the added difficulty of overcoming the possibility of blending together in a mush of sleigh bells. Of course, any album can run into same-song-over-and-over territory, but since Christmas albums have to stick to one theme/subject it’s especially easy for it to happen to them. Does this album fall into that? A bit. For example, “All I Want For Christmas Is You” and the arrangement of “Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town” are very similar. Is that on purpose or an oversight? I don’t know. That said, man, I still love “All I Want For Christmas Is You” and I’m a sucker for a good “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing / In Excelsis Deo.” Plus, Mariah made me briefly forget my I-don’t-ever-need-to-hear-this-again twitch in regard to “O Holy Night,” so I consider the album a success.

6/7: Jacaszek's Glimmer: A beautifully melancholy experimental mix of classical and electronic music.

Why? I saw it reviewed on the Needle Drop.

Additional Thoughts: It’s very reminiscent of Danny Elfman scores or Wind In The Wires era Patrick Wolf, so it’s right up my alley. One thing that does bother me, though, is that sometimes the use of distortion doesn’t seem to add anything interesting to it and seems like just noise. I suppose that’s part of the point in mixing seemingly opposed things such as electronica and classical, to also mix beauty and melody with sometimes dreadful noise. Still, I enjoy it.

6/8: Mariah Carey's Mariah Carey: Her rap(-ish) verse in "Prisoner" makes me wonder why 97's Butterfly shocked anyone.

Why? I’ve always loved Mariah, but there are some gaping holes in my knowledge of her work. I’m going about rectifying that.

Additional Thoughts: I will say one thing (besides the seemingly random rap verse) did shock me about this album - how poppy and upbeat much of it was. Music Box and Emotions are quite heavy on the soft rock and ballads, so I expected move of that here. “Prisoner” also ended up taking precedence over the track I thought I’d highlight through most of the album, “Vanishing.” I could be wrong, but I seem to recall Mariah once listing it as a favorite and I can see why.

6/9: Tove Styrke's Kiddo: Ironic the voice of this strong personality often feels buried in the mix. Highlight: "Decay"

Why? New release; I didn’t want to crack into Muse’s Drones yet and I already listened to FFS, so I decided to go with someone I’d never heard of before.

Additional Thoughts: Apparently buried vocals are a theme among this grouping of albums. No idea how that happened. Anyway. A good example of Tove’s strong personality is “Even If I’m Loud It Doesn’t Mean I’m Talking To You,” which contains the line, “I know you feel that pop doesn’t really have a clue.” 

6/10: Alpine's Yuck: The sweet, sometimes breathy harmonies remind me a lot of Janet Jackson. Highlight: "Come On"

Why? NPR featured it as a “First Listen.” I figured why not?

Additional Thoughts: While Alpine is described as “indie-pop” much of this album feels more like R&B. As I said, vocally it recalls Janet Jackson’s sweet and breathy moment, but musically it also feels like her track “Empty”; minimal yet full. 

6/10: Frog Eyes' Tears of the Valedictorian: Some see it as a toning down of their "manic" style and I doubt I can agree.

Why? It was in my Spotify recommendations based on the Unicorns.

Additional Thoughts: When I said “some” I was mainly referring to this review. Admittedly, this is my first exposure to Frog Eyes, so I could be wrong. However, given what the album sounds like, it feels like nitpicking. To my ears, this album is crazed and frenzied. It’s also frustrating, because (like Mount Eerie) the lyrics are quite wordy and involved yet buried under the instruments or the often incomprehensible singing. I can see how it relates to the Unicorns (manic, lo-fi, Canadian band, experimental, etc.), but it lacks any of the charm that made me like their record.

6/11: Alpine's A Is For Alpine: Bit repetitive lyrically, but the sweet harmonies and disco vibes make a pleasant listen.

Why? I really dug Yuck, so I wanted to give their first album a listen.

Additional Thoughts: I realize given what I’ve said about Sparks’ Lil’ Beethoven and Hello Young Lovers that me criticizing an artist for being repetitive lyrically might seem inconsistent or some such. But, as with anything, it depends on how it’s done and why. In a track like Sparks’ “The Rhythm Thief” the repetition builds rhythm for the track the way a beat would. While other times repetition just feels lazy or like an artist didn’t know what else to say. I wouldn’t categorize A Is For Alpine as lazy, but while perhaps they might have been going for something minimalist in the writing, it does sometimes feel like they just ran out of words.

6/13: Zhala's Zhala: She describes her music as "cosmic pop" and that's especially true of the gorgeous "Right Way's Wrong."

Why? Recent release I’ve been meaning to get to for a couple weeks (I think), because she’s the only other artist signed to Robyn’s label and that intrigued me.

Additional Thoughts: Something I found interesting about this record is that, overall, the first half feels very high energy that kinda climaxes with “Prophet”, while the second half is mellower (by comparison) and feels like a good comedown. At present, I think I like the second half better than the first, but that could change. As noted, “Right Way’s Wrong” is great, but another track I found noteworthy is “Prince in the Jungle.”

All albums available to stream on Spotify. Except Yuck, which can be streamed at NPR.

If you'd like to suggest an album, comment on this entry or tweet me. 

"The Molten Veins": Franz Ferdinand’s “40'” (Singled Out - Back Catalog Edition)

One of the marks of a great song is it allows for multiple interpretations that build with listens, over years, and across people. But then there are those songs that staunchly resist any solid interpretation, those songs that move you and mean something to you that you can never quite verbalize and that fact keeps you going back to it. While I’m sure many other songs fill this category, “40’” by Franz Ferdinand is a big one for me. I’ve been trying to get a handle on this song for ages, yet like the foam forty feet beneath the narrator’s feet it’s always out of my reach.

Early on in their collaboration, Nick McCarthy and Alex Kapranos planned to form two bands; a pop group (which became Franz Ferdinand) and a more folk-orientated group (which never really came to be.) However, a vestige of that folk group exists in the work of Franz Ferdinand in the form of “40’.” According to Kapranos, they “thought the other band would probably do that one” as the song’s main riff draws influence from rebetika (Greek folk music.) Kapranos also claims it’s about “trying to catch the emotions you feel when you’re faced with an incredibly immense decision” and I think that comes through in both the lyrics and music. Decisions can be paralyzing, especially when you build them up in your mind. The musical surges in “40’” perfectly encompass how that anxiety feels and the outro is the sweet calm that follows finally taking the leap.

My attempts to glean clear meaning from the song have over the years led to different lines holding most of my focus while obscuring the rest. Personal phobias are the likely reason behind my initial focus on the aspects of height and distance. More recently, though, the line that really grabs me is “Salt scales upon my drying arms.” Scales as a metaphor came up a lot in interviews Kapranos did during the promotion of Franz’ last album, Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action. In the context of RTRWRA, the scales mask vulnerability and shedding them can allow one to find strength in that vulnerability. By contrast, “40’” appears to be about building them up, even if only temporarily. The image of salt scales implies that the narrator has been standing at that precipice for an extended period of time, because (and I could very well be wrong) salt would likely make skin raw first and then prolonged exposure would draw out moisture. Skin care and other logistics aside, the larger point is that the narrator waits for these scales to build before he leaps the forty feet (if he leaps) and the scales are protection from what comes after.

Another thing I find interesting about the lyrics are the references to “cold,” “cooling,” and “calm,” which stand in contrast to the surging nature of the music. The narrator says, “Burn my back beneath the sun, but I am cold beneath the burning rays.” One could take that literally, his focus is so concentrated on the impending decision that even the sun can’t affect him. Cold also denotes a lack of emotion, which could be seen as a negative. However, in this case, the “coldest calm” seems to suggest clarity and resolve. He’s stood long enough to know what he wants to do. Perhaps this is projection on my part, but despite my frequent anxiety and tendency to drag my feet, when I do come to a decision I tend to feel that matter-of-fact about it. Clear cut and cold; this is what’s happening.

Franz Ferdinand is loaded with contradictions and “40’” might be one of their starkest with its heightened and calm emotions. I doubt this analysis has fully bridged that gap for me (only time will tell), but I do think it’s been lessened at least a few feet. 

Daily Album Digest: March 1 - 14, 2015

Carrying on February's Music Writer's Exercise (#MWE), each day I listen to a new album and tweet a brief review of it. Then every two weeks compile those tweets here with some extra thoughts.

3/1: The Killers' Battle Born: The title track and "Be Still" are great, but cramming it with aspiring anthems makes it fall flat.

Why? After liking Day & Age so much I decided to charge ahead to this album. It… didn’t work out well.

Anything else?  I’m not a fan of when the Killers get their Springsteen on, but it’s not really that aspect that tanks the record for me. It’s a matter of pacing. The standard edition of the album has twelve songs, only two of them don’t go into lighters-in-the-air anthem territory. After a while they just have no punch anymore. Not every song has to be or can be “Born to Run.” 

3/2: Janet Jackson's Damita Jo: Its best moments are the old school turns ("I Want You") or just plain fun ("Just a Little While.")

Why? I wanted to go the opposite of the Killers’ record and have been criminally behind on Janet.

Anything else? I doubt this will ever be among my favorite Janet records, but it has some great moments. As something of a junkie for the genre myself, “R&B Junkie” speaks to me. I love the old school vibe of that track and “I Want You.” Speaking of “I Want You,” I think that track and the other Kanye West collaborations (“Strawberry Bounce” and “My Baby”) are really good.  His verse on “My Baby” is another matter, but that’s to be expected from him. The Babyface produced  track “Thinkin’ Bout My Ex” is another highlight and quite moving.

As for the negatives, no matter how sexy the singing, no matter if it’s Janet Jackson whispering it breathily, there is nothing sexy about the word “moist.” Or “erect.” I have no problem with Janet (or any artist) exploring her sexuality, but tracks like “Moist” and “Warmth” prove there’s a limit, at least creatively. I wouldn’t go as far as someone from AllMusic and call it embarrassing, just say that there are diminishing returns in that area.

3/3: Purity Ring's another eternity: In a word: dreamy. Carries you through lovely and strange images, but not much sticks out after the fact.

Why? Tuesday release. I’ve seen the name around a lot recently and dove in.

Anything else? No. I didn’t really connect with this record and feel no great desire to go back.

3/4: Sparks' Whomp That Sucker: I'm partial to the song "Funny Face" if for no other reason than it reminds me of book "Invisible Monsters."

Why? Still working through Sparks’ discography.

Anything else? This album came after Terminal Jive and is more rock than that or No 1 In Heaven, but it’s a better rock record than Big Beat or Introducing Sparks probably due to it sounding more early 80s new wave than generic 70s rock.

3/5: The Strokes' Is This It: Seminal works can be difficult to discuss, but alt. rock of the 2000s owes this album a debt and for good reason.

Why? I was originally going to listen to Room On Fire, but decided on this instead.

Anything else? As I said, it’s difficult to talk about albums like this one, because they have been so influential. I may not have ever heard this album in its entirety until recently, but I’ve still heard it because so much of rock in the 2000s wouldn’t exist without it. That sort of status can sometimes work against an album, though since they inspired a lot of the 2000s rock that I like, I dig it. In fact, this album is such a big deal that it landed on the Rolling Stone 500 Greatest Albums of All-Time, so while I would like to dig deeper in this, it’ll have to wait.

3/6: Coheed & Cambria's The Afterman: Ascension/Descension: I hesitate to use this phrase, but really, this is a return to form. Magnificent.

Why? Why not?

Anything else? I held off from this double album for a long time, because I was not big on Year of the Black Rainbow (and parts of No World for Tomorrow, but mostly YotBR.) The band has always had a metal edge, but those records seemed to be carrying them even further into that direction and frankly, that just isn’t for me. However, The Afterman feels more somewhere in between Good Apollo Vol.1 and In Keeping Secrets of Silent Earth: 3 without feeling like they regressed. It’s eclectic, gave me chills, made me tear up, so I loved it. 

3/7: Ariana Grande's My Everything: Her sweet and lovely voice saves songs that otherwise would be just middle of the road pop/r&b.

Why? I really liked her Grammy performance last month and have had this album in the queue, so to speak.

Anything else? Twitter’s limitations strike again and force me into backhanded compliments. Given more room let me put it like this: the songs themselves are not that striking or impressive on their own, but Ariana has such a beautiful voice that I wanted to listen to anything attached to it. I just wish the songs had more personality and more of her. She has a writing credit on the title track and that’s one song that feels true and not just a character she’s donning for a song. Maybe in time she’ll become more involved in that area. Her voice is a joy to listen to, so I want her to stick around and hopefully grow.

3/8: fun.'s Aim & Ignite: Reminds me of Panic! At the Disco's Pretty. Odd. in that both hit every right button to make me ridiculously happy.

Why? Another album that’s been sitting in my Spotify queue for ages.

Anything else? I liked Some Nights, in particular the introduction and title track. Something I really like about them is this drama and sense of scale that I don’t know the rest of that album lived up to. Aim & Ignite, however, completely revels in desires of Queen’s grandeur happily the whole way though. There have been critics who bemoan how much is going on musically and it certainly isn’t for everyone, but I can’t help bask in the strings and horns and harmonies. And Nate Ruess may not be Freddie Mercury, but when he sings, damn, I believe every word. Some current frontmen could really take a lesson from him. 

3/9: Janet Jackson's 20 Y.O. : Many blame this album's failings on Jermaine Dupri. That's unfair. The Jam/Lewis tracks don't fare well either.

Why? Playing catch-up with Janet.

Anything else? For anyone else this might be a decent or good album - not for Janet. I can cut her slack though. She has made some of the greatest dance/pop/r&b albums of all-time and frankly, not every album an artist makes is going to be great. It’s just not possible. That said, 20 Y.O. is still a letdown, because it’s the first Janet album that I disliked. “Call On Me” is sweet and breezy, but there’s not much here I feel the need to revisit. Even Damita Jo, which I was mostly lukewarm on, has more to offer. The Dupri-produced tracks feel messy and jumbled, while the Jam/Lewis-produced tracks wear out their welcome quick. Time could soften me this album, but as I said, I don’t feel a desire to go back to it anytime soon.

3/10: Laura Welsh's Soft Control: There's an edge to her captivating voice that recalls Annie Lennox. Highlights: "Ghosts" & "Break the Fall"

Why? The new releases that week were made up mainly of singles and Madonna’s Rebel Heart and I really didn’t want to touch that one.

Anything else? Along with having tones like Annie Lennox, the way she sings the word “cynical” in “Break the Fall” also reminds me of Fiona Apple. Anyone who can remind me of those two women possesses a voice that I can’t help but love. Unfortunately, though the album starts quite strong it starts to peter out about halfway through. The lyrics stay interesting throughout, but musically it blends together. Still, as I said about Ariana Grande, I enjoy her voice so much that I’ll take what I can get. I want to root for her and since this is only her debut I’m quite comfortable in doing so.

3/11: Janet Jackson’s Discipline: Tracks like opener “Feedback” and the evocative “Rock With U” make this the dance record 20 Y.O. wanted to be.

Why? I wanted to finish catching up with Janet.

Anything else? Apparently Jermaine Dupri made statements about 20 Y.O. being the most dance record Janet had done in a while. I don’t believe that to be the case. If you define a dance record as one that makes you dance, well, it didn’t make me want to dance. Discipline, however, does make me want to dance. The record also manages to give Janet a modern sound (such as on “Rock With U”), unlike 20 Y.O.’s clumsy attempts at contemporary r&b.

And yet, for all the goodwill Discipline builds with its dance tracks, the title track nearly throws it all out the window. Of course, Janet discussing sex is not new nor does the track represent her first foray into BDSM themes (see The Velvet Rope’s “Rope Burn”), but I find the track disturbing. Maybe I’m naïve or overreacting, but lyrics such as “Make me cry” and “Take out your frustrations on me” really, really rub me the wrong way. If nothing else, hundreds of thinkpieces on Fifty Shades of Grey prove the handling of BDSM in media is a murky area indeed. 

3/12: Dirty Pretty Things' Waterloo to Anywhere: With dark themes and rough but catchy sound ("Bang Bang You're Dead"), they were aptly named.

Why? It’s been sitting on my backburner for a long time.

Anything else? I’ve loved “Bang Bang You’re Dead” for a long time and was concerned that the rest might not live up to it. That concern was mostly unfounded. “Bang” still stands out the most sonically (mainly due to the inclusion of horns), but lyrically I was really struck by “Blood Thirsty Bastards” and “The Enemy.” The album’s not as rough as I recall (frontman Carl Barat’s previous band) the Libertines being, which works for me and makes it a more pleasant listen than they could sometimes be.

3/13: Box Codax' Hellabuster: How do I process an album full of grooves, that one minute reminds me of Oingo Boingo and 60s girl groups the next?

Why? Another that’s been on a backburner.

Anything else? That tweet was a play on recurring lyric, “How do I get your bullet out of my head” and also very much the truth. I’m still so flabbergasted by this record that I might end up writing a full post for it. But to be brief (for now): I know of this band because one of the members is Franz Ferdinand guitarist/keyboardist Nick McCarthy.  As with much of Franz, McCarthy composes the music of Box Codax  and what really struck me initially is how funky it gets at times. Trying to describe it is difficult for me, because something that vaguely reminds me Oingo Boingo and then throws out Motown strings by all accounts shouldn’t work. But it has so many great grooves that anchor it and it commits so hard to every seemingly mad musical idea that I can’t help but be on board. ...Even if it did break my brain.

3/14: Franz Ferdinand's Live at Roundhouse London: I likely won't discuss many live albums, but this "jolly bit of desolation" is the exception.

Why? Needed a break, so I cheated a bit.

Anything else? I try to steer clear of live albums or compilations for this daily album stuff. It feels a bit like cheating, because a greatest hits compilation doesn’t have the same purpose as a legit album. But, of course, if I’m going to make an exception for anyone it’ll be Franz Ferdinand. If nothing else Franz is a great live band and I really think anyone who doesn’t get a chance to see them should at least give this a listen. They have tremendous energy and when they hit their stride (“The Fallen” through “Auf Achse,” for instance) everything flows almost seamlessly.

All albums available to stream on Spotify. Except for Franz Ferdinand’s Live at Roundhouse London which is available here. 

“And This Is How I Fell”: "Franz Ferdinand" by Franz Ferdinand (Back Catalog)

January 2004 and my interest in contemporary music is severely lacking, bordering on nonexistent. Too distracted by newfound love of Tolkien, recurring depression, and lacking faith that anything could grab me the way music had in my preteen to mid-teen years, I stopped caring. If I listened to the radio at all, it was to listen to talk radio or maybe CBS.fm in New York. I’d even fallen behind on many artists I did care about.

The first time I heard Franz Ferdinand, I didn’t really hear them. One morning I happened to have MTV on in the background and caught a You Hear It First news segment, which profiled the band. Whether due to quick editing or morning lethargy, I couldn’t make out the music in the live footage or much in the interview beyond a floppy fringe. But I did catch one very important thing, their desire to make "music for girls to dance to" and in an instant I knew they could easily become a problem for me. As "Take Me Out" gained notice and popularity here in the States, I did all I could to avoid them. Not an easy task with a single so monstrously catchy and two friends of mine being deep into the band. I held out until that September when my first listen of "The Dark of the Matinée" confirmed my instincts. Franz Ferdinand stole my heart and, soon, restored my faith.

Academic integrity commands me to share this personal history and be upfront. The internet just loves to groan about biases, so I feel putting this context out in the open should squash that. Besides, as the saying goes, write what you know and I know Franz exemplifies so much of my musical philosophy that a retrospective of their work to date acts as the best introduction for this blog. They are my favorite band for a reason, after all, and this post (and the three to come) will provide a small glimpse into why. Strictly speaking, these posts aren’t meant to be reviews of their work. They could be seen as analyses with Franz Ferdinand as the jumping off point, but I would say they’re somewhere in the middle. Also, the discussion will only cover the four albums, the core of the band’s catalog; no b-sides, no covers. Most discussion will be grouped by album, but some tracks might be discussed out of that sequence. With that in mind…

A key component to understanding my musical philosophy and, incidentally, Franz’s predominant musical philosophy also, is an interest in pop music that works on multiple levels. Music that triggers an emotional response first and foremost or, according to front man Alex Kapranos, "bypasses your brain completely and makes you get on your feet," but can hold up to deeper scrutiny and be enriching if you let it. There are examples of this throughout pop history, from the Beatles to the Clash, Bowie to Gaga, but another distinct example is Franz’s own "Take Me Out."

Though unfair, one can see why "Take Me Out" casts such a shadow over the rest of their output in the eyes of some. The combination of the song’s ear-catching opening, the main guitar riff, and the force of that driving beat are simply undeniable. If this song can’t make you dance, it’s hard to imagine what could. As for the song’s meaning, interpretations vary, including the idea that the narrator is the Archduke Ferdinand. I, for one, have never subscribed to that particular thought. Yes, it’s about pulling a trigger, but a more metaphorical one. Put plainly, it’s about sexual tension and flirting, but unlike what passes for flirting in much of recent popular music the narrator of this song isn’t bragging. In fact, the narrator seems pretty inept, which makes the song more about the fragility of sexual tension than unfailing swaggering bravado (looking at you Jason "Talk Dirty to Me" Derulo.) Lines like "If I move this could die / Eyes move this could die" and "If I wane this could die / I wait this could die" illustrate this ineptitude quite well. The slightest misstep (or lack of step) could ruin any chance the narrator has with the target. Even if they were to simply look away from each other the tension could fall apart or disappear. And yet, despite knowing that he’s doomed if he does nothing, he resigns himself to that failure ("I know I won’t be leaving here with you") and continues to awkwardly wait on the other person to pull the trigger. Franz revisits this theme of sexual tension-meets-romantic-awkwardness later on in their work with "No You Girls"/"Katherine Kiss Me."

If "Take Me Out" represents fumbles on the road to seduction, "Darts of Pleasure" and "Michael" represent the flair. "Michael"’s narrator has no qualms about giving into the immediacy of the moment ("Nothing matters now") and making his desires abundantly clear. According to Kapranos, "The most enjoyable thing about songs and sex is the flirting… the way sparks go flying. It’s good to write about love, but it’s more exciting to write about the suggestion that love is about to happen, being on the cusp of that passion." "Darts of Pleasure" encapsulates such excitement with its narrator’s promises of "fantastic passion" and "tense anticipation" and, of course, its musical climax. A fascination with such tension is one I have as well, but that isn’t so much about musical philosophy as it is something I have an affinity for, like horn sections. The same could be said about my love for Franz’s tendency for contrasts, particularly in music and lyrics, as seen in "Take Me Out"’s driving, bouncy music paired with fairly downer lyrics or even how Franz Ferdinand consists mainly of dance tracks, but begins and ends in softness.

In addition to making music that works on multiple levels Franz’s desires to make music that, to quote Kapranos, "communicates the most complex of ideas in the simplest way." One of the best examples of this put into practice is Franz Ferdinand’s opening track, "Jacqueline." The first verse recalls an incident between the titular Jacqueline and Ivor Cutler, wherein Cutler’s romantic advances were rejected. His response, "You see me just as an old man, but I’m looking at you with the same eyes that I had as a young man" became "Sometimes these eyes forget the face they’re peering from… and how in the return of the gaze she can return you the face that you are staring from." With time, that line has become a favorite of mine for the beauty in its deceptive simplicity. In a way the verse reminds me of the Beach Boys’ "Caroline, No," which at its heart mourns the loss of innocence. Both are about what you lose with age, whether internally or externally, and how the loss often happens so gradually it goes unnoticed until something or someone forces you to remember. Hearing "Jacqueline" for the first time at the age of twenty, I mostly understood the opening verse intellectually. Its emotional impact didn’t truly strike me until much later. The ability of a song to unfold with time ties back to the idea of music that works on multiple levels. In the sense that a work that is lasting and enriching should give the listener something new with subsequent listens and almost evolve with the listener.

For clarity’s sake, I want to make a distinction between being exemplary of my musical philosophy versus being formative in said philosophy. Certainly over the last decade Franz Ferdinand has helped hone it and influenced artists I’ve listened to or revisited. It’s not much of a coincidence, for example, that deeper explorations of Duran Duran and Depeche Mode ran parallel to my initial dive into Franz. However, the first artists that I clearly remember discussing the duality of their work, the people who planted that seed in my mind were the Spice Girls. We’ll dig more into them another time, but suffice to say, their part in shaping my expectations and ideals for pop music is impossible for me to overstate. And if you want to find another root of my unabashed defense of pop look no further than that second verse of *NSYNC’s "Pop."

Another major formative influence for me is the Beatles. I speak Beatle. Fluently. So much so that when I found out Kapranos/McCarthy’s intent behind "Cheating on You" was to write their version of an early Lennon/McCartney, I wasn’t the least bit surprised by it; that "eeeeee" after the chorus is classic ‘64 Macca. Unfortunately, while they succeed in their imitation, it feels more like early Beatles filler; "Hold Me Tight" as opposed to "I Feel Fine." Of course, it follows the emotional gut-punch that is "Auf Achse," so perhaps that accounts somewhat for it falling flat. Admittedly, I quite dig "Cheating on You" when done live, but obviously, we’re not here to talk about anything beyond what is committed to the record.

This leads to the other major low point in Franz Ferdinand, "This Fire." The live version is untouchable, but that doesn’t change that what ended up on Franz Ferdinand is less than satisfying. The band wasn’t satisfied with it either, which eventually led to the re-recorded single produced by Rich Costey, "This FFFire." In Helen Chase’s An A – Z of Franz Ferdinand, "This Fire" and "Tell Her Tonight" are given as examples of creative friction between the band and the album’s producer Tore Johansson and it shows, really. There are portions of "This Fire" that are meant to be restrained and it works. During the verses when the slow burn of Alex’s vocal is center-stage, restraint works, but when it comes time for chorus to explode it falls flat and limp. What ultimately makes the Costey produced track superior comes down to a feeling, a surging, strong feeling that the album version lacks. Perhaps the reason for that lies in the difficulty in fully capturing the band’s explosive live energy and something getting lost in translation from live performance to demo to record, a problem that resurfaces later in Franz’s second album.

I mentioned earlier that Franz Ferdinand’s desire to make "music for girls to dance to" grabbed me in a big way before I ever heard a note of their music. It was refreshing to see a band declare that they were about the listener having fun and unashamedly labeled themselves pop when too many treat pop and artistry as diametrically opposed. Their rejection of the snobbery that often plagues artists and fans was music to my ears and "The Dark of the Matinée" brings that idea right into the forefront. The student narrator attempts to "charm" someone by listing everything he hates (people, clothes, words), seemingly surprised by the response, "You smile, mention something that you like, oh, how you’d have a happy life if you did the things you like." The line serves as a clever dig at what often passes for clever to the cynical teen mind. And, damn, is it brilliant. I could go on for hours about the beauty of its melody and wit of its lyrics, but in the end, "Matinée" fills me with joy just as it did the first time I heard it. And after all, isn’t that the whole point?

Next time, more Franz Ferdinand and personal musical philosophy! More specifically, discussion about the myth and reality of the so-called sophomore slump and beginning to explore an idea Michael Nesmith calls "Releasing the Boone." Then we’ll delve into authorial intent, authorial regret, ambition, and Pinkertons.

Thoughts, Words, Action (Right)

I haven't been able to give this blog the attention I've truly wanted to so far this summer. There are many reasons for that, but they are mostly irrelevant. I should have made more effort. No excuses this time.

To make up for lost time, I am introducing a series, of sorts, that (within reason) will become a regular occurrence here. For the remainder of this month, I will be posting parts of an artist retrospective.

What does that involve, exactly? Well, each Friday I will be posting a review of an album until I make my way through the entire discography of an artist in release order.

So, who am I starting with? The inspiration for artist retrospectives came from the fact that I am really excited for the release of Franz Ferdinand's Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action on August 26th/27th. Anyone who knows me knows that I absolutely adore this band and since I will be spending much of the next few weeks buried in their past work, I figured I should put it to good use.

Here's to a month of memories, gushing, and slacken ties.