Now that new music is only a download away (legal or otherwise), any given one-trick-pony can be guaranteed to sell-out Brixton Academy at least once. “Take Me Out” alone could have done the job for Franz Ferdinand but, as tonight’s show pleasantly proves, the Scottish quartet have everything it takes to be in this for the long haul – and indeed to sell out three consecutive nights. (They could probably have gone for four to rival the Pixies but those wily Scissor Sisters had already booked up Hallowe’en.)
So the show begins with a vast white safety curtain draped across the front of the stage, bearing the grainy face of their insurgent student namesake. Appropriately (if tastelessly), it drops at the sound of a gun firing – the shot heard around the world, ushering in the hit heard around the world – and immediately any fears about this being some crazy fluke are allayed. You couldn’t hope for a more assured and confident sight.
More ironic than arrogant, from the off the Franzes are evidently enjoying themselves almost as much as the crowd even if anyone expecting the sparse clip of the album is disappointed. It’s a muggy mix, making each song sound as if it was being bellowed through a wall at 2am; Alex K’s witticisms are mangled into mumbles.
None of this matters. Everyone present tonight is witness to a perfect pop moment, bringing the same sense of pride and joy as when Blur broke big and “Nevermind” started to sell by the bucketload mid-1992. With a world-class lightshow behind them, Alex et al obviously can’t quite believe their luck but are savouring, devouring every iota of adulation after thankless years of false starts in other, lesser bands.
It’s perfect, then, that the song that made all this possible is itself the ultimate false start. The fifth song played tonight, “Take Me Out” is afforded the kind of alchemic reaction that “No Surprises” and “Angels” received at Glastonbury festivals past – a rabid euphoria in which the entire crowd simultaneously dances and looks around in disbelief at everyone else doing exactly the same thing.
But then Franz Ferdinand aren’t merely a band, they’re showmen (shy bassist Nicky respectfully excluded) driven by applause to ever bolder and more iconic poses. Surging forward en masse like an offside trap for the singles, they present a united front, bound by their success and loving every second.
Even with two support bands to bolster the bill and offset worries about the dreaded only-one-album syndrome, the set is lengthy with three new songs alongside the album and b-sides. “This Boy”, “I’m Your Villain” and “Your Diary” are, of course, the acid test, the proof that the bubble will either burst or swell. More considered and less choppy than previous releases, the new tracks sound to have regressed back from ’80s art rock to the warmer, wider sounds of the ’70s. “I’m A Villain”, with its mixed tempos and furious chorus, is the standout track, not least for its hypnotic chorus of “See you later/Baby, see you later” that will surely echo round a thousand student discos this time next year like the intro riff to you-know-what.
Finally, the momentum of the main set is lost a little for the encore but by now no-one really cares. No other band could comfortably claim this year as their own but Franz Ferdinand, and surely no other band has such a bright future ahead of them either.
