The release of Franz Ferdinand (#84) in February 2004 made Franz Ferdinand global superstars. It was listed in 1001 Albums You Must Hear Before You Die; it won the 2004 Mercury Prize; and it spawned 5 hit singles, including 'Take Me Out' which hit #3 in the UK. Faced with such a monolithic success - something not usually accorded to debut albums - the band spent the remainder of 2004 consolidating their success on the live circuit, playing festivals and touring at a frenetic pace. In 2005, having stated in interviews their intention to follow up rapidly, the band retreated to the studio, demoing new material at the V Festival in August.
We open this much-anticipated follow-up with 'The Fallen'. At once, all the characteristics of Franz Ferdinand at their best are there: Paul Thompson's dynamic drumming, razor-sharp riffs, art school sensibility and a sense of humour. Here the lyrics are cleverer than before: Some say ya' troubled boy/ Just because you like to destroy/ All the things that bring the idiots joy/ Well, what's wrong with a little destruction? This is a brilliant, vibrant and lively start, which entertains you enough to make you dance, but treats you as an erudite human being instead of just some thug in tight jeans.
'Do You Want To' is another fine example of bombastic pop-rock, something which Franz Ferdinand do better than most in the 21st century. As on 'Take Me Out', there is a monumental tempo change part way through, but once again it's completely seamless. Alex Kapranos simplifies the lyrics but his delivery comes with a sense of purpose and sophistication, hidden behind a cheeky smile. Nick McCarthy's riffs are excellent and Bob Hardy's bass work on the verses is very effective. It's an intelligent pop song, one which flatters you as you bounce around the room.
Having made you dance incessantly until now, you are barely given time to breathe before it starts all over again. 'This Boy' begins with some lightning-quick snare work from Thompson over McCarthy's guitar, before cutting out as Kapranos strides up and drawls Yeah into the mike. It's effortlessly cool and yet relentless - while Franz Ferdinand carries you along at a steady pace, this feels like you're being kicked along like a football - and, unlike in real life, it feels good.
'Walk Away' is the second single culled from the album, and again it's a very fine effort. This has a 1960s feel to it; Kapranos is singing like his hero Ray Davies. McCarthy and Thompson are again on fine form, and leave sufficient space for both Kapranos and the acoustic part which creeps into the mix under all the electric paraphernalia. The final lines are quite strange, mind: The stab of a stiletto on a silent night/ Stalin smiles and Hitler laughs/ Churchill claps Mao Tse Tung on the back. I'm sorry?
'Evil And A Heathen' continues the promising trend set by its predecessors, as bombastics and heavy as the others. However, it's perhaps a good thing that this is only 2:05 long, as this is the first song in which we see the effect and the mood of the song overtaking the actual content. Because it's such a short and punchy song this doesn't really matter; had the band chosen to make this one of the longer track, it would have run out of steam pretty quickly.
'You're The Reason I'm Leaving' falls into a different kind of trap. This may have all the guitar- and drum-based ingredients of a Franz classic, but it has nowhere near enough substance. Many of the lyrics are padded out by repitition, and the riffs are a lot less eye- (or ear-)catching. McCarthy seems to have detuned his guitar because his solo from 1:27 onwards sounds terrible. This track is like a lot of modern indie music - all about looks and prancing around in an arty pair of skintight jeans, with no room for proper musicianship.
No matter, though, because it's soon over. Now we come to something completely different. 'Eleanor Put Your Boots On' sees the introduction of a piano alongside the acoustic. This creates a down-toned mood, which is brilliant for two reasons. One, it demonstrates the range of Franz Ferdinand as a band - it shows that they are not all about snazzy pop music. And two, this creates the perfect space for Kapranos' voice, with its Glaswegian tinge and inherent awkwardness. It becomes tender. This is like a better, more sophisticated version of 'Move On Now' by Hard-Fi, not just because Kapranos can sing better, but because it's completely unexpected. It's a marvellous track.
'Well That Was Easy' is yet another 3-minute indie pop song. They may well be trying harder here than on 'You're The Reason I'm Leaving', but throwing in a token change in time signature won't do it alone. As before, it feels way too casual - you can't dance to this one. But the worst bit about this track comes in the last minute - the repetition of that was easy, but I still miss you becomes so stependously garbled that you want to rip the CD in half as if it had been rinsed.
'What You Meant' is heaps better, returning us to the killer licks and lyrics of Franz at their best. Hardy is brutally strong on the bass, Thompson's drumming is energetic and the whole band is tight and flamboyant at the same time. The chorus may well be simple, but sometimes being overcomplicated spoils things. The third verse is a cracker: If we were feckless we'd be fine/ Sucking hard on our innocence/ But we've been bright enough to climb/ Been left as bleckened filament. Kapranos drawls these lines out with such grace and brio, it's a joy to listen to.
One of the more over-used tracks on here, 'I'm Your Villain' has a great, if now hackneyed intro. Again the bass is more prominent than before; again it's dragged along by McCarthy's razor-sharp strumming; and again it packs a few surprises along the way. No sooner have you gotten used to the snails'-pace verse than the 'chorus' comes at you at machine-gun speed, knocking you back about two feet. Drumming connoisseurs will notice that Thompson gets a lot more room to improvise his fills here, and while they don't always work, they do at least add variety.
The title track is yet another punchy, stricken number. The lyrics are like a drawn-out version of '(I Can't Get No) Satisfaction' in the way that Kapranos decries the media and advertising: Because she wears this and/ He said that and/ If you get some of these/ It'll all be alright. But while that had an ostentatious air to it - it was the 1960s, remember - at the heart of this track is an arty sense of humour; the very way Kapranos says the word earpiece is bizarre.
'Fade Together' takes the successful musicality of 'Eleanor Put Your Boots On' (i.e. acoustic guitar and piano) and combines them again in a slightly different proportion. This creates another wonderful song, but not just because it's against type. Taken outside of the album, the song is an outstanding testament to British music. It has the eccentricity and tenderness of Nick Drake, with the melodic qualities of Paul McCartney at his peak. 'Outsiders', meanwhile, is overblown, over-complicated and over-long. The very production of this feels sprawling and drawn out, and the wierd, annoying electronica touches are just plain... stupid.
Although it received nowhere near as enough critical acclaim as its predecessor, You Could Have It So Much Better is an improvement from Franz Ferdinand. Partially, this is because the sound which made them a success in 2004 has been consolidated and nailed down, making the outfit as tight as possible. The big danger with bands at this stage is that their output tends to become formulaic, with albums becoming more about mood and style, and less about good songs. It happened to ELO, it's happening to Hard-Fi, but here it is avoided. Just. If this album did not have such brilliant tracks as 'Eleanor Put Your Boots On' and 'Fade Together', then listeners would feel cheated of Franz' real quality, and the album would live up to its name. In all, though, this is a bombastic, brilliant effort from Kapranos et al, which only goes to prove how much British music needs them to bring out a new album soon.
The Wall tour of 1980-81 had taken a serious toll on Pink Floyd. But it wasn't physical exhaustion - the cumbersome nature of the show had meant only 32 performances over two years. Financially, the tour had made a huge loss which was footed by the three remaining band members (Rick Wright, fired during recording, ironically made a profit after being hired back as a session player). The group spent the remainder of 1981 and most of 1982 working on the film version of The Wall, directed by Alan Parker and starring Bob Geldof as Pink. Pink Floyd The Wall went on general release in July 1982 to the bemusement of many in the film industry; to this day it remains as divisive as the album which spawned it. Throughout all this the feud between Roger Waters and David Gilmour grew, and as clamour for a new record grew, the situation did not look promising.
After the success of The Road To Hell (1989), Rea sought to consolidate the sound that had made him a transatlantic superstar. Both Auberge (1991) and God's Great Banana Skin (1992) sought to replicate the dark, rocky sound; however, while Auberge barely deviated from the dark formula and subject matter of The Road To Hell, God's Great Banana Skin was a lighter, more pop-oriented effort that divided the critics. The following year Espresso Logic (1993) continued his foray into pop, just as had done with dance in the mid-1980s, and while it produced two hits singles it was not as well received. The next five years saw Rea in ill health, with no new material beyond a soundtrack album, La Passione (1996), and a greatest hits compilation in 1994.
First off the top of my head, many of you who have been following this countdown (and I hope there are more than I imagine) will have been bemused by my choices on a number of occasions. Only the only day, I got into a discussion with a Dylan fan after I reviewed Time Out Of Mind (#53) quite scathingly. Why, he asked, if I am so critical of Dylan's work, did I plump for that album instead of something like Blonde On Blonde (1966) or Blood On The Tracks (1975)? A few of my choices have been compilations, and there are a few more to come, which many would not count as proper albums and therefore not eligible for the chart.
Kraftwerk formed in 1970 out of the wreckage of the quintet Organisation, who released their only album, Tone Float, before splitting. Comprised originally of Florian Schneider-Esleben and Ralf Hütter, throughout the first four years the band reheased in a rented loft. It had a constantly fluctuating line-up, recruiting many sessions musicians for their sporadic live performances. After being introduced to producer-engineer Konrad 'Conny' Plank, the band began recording at his studio in Cologne. After producing the first three, largely forgotten albums, Plank left after their breakthrough Autobahn (1974) over a contract dispute. By now the band had a steady line-up of Wolfgang Flür, Karl Bartos, Schneider and Hütter. Over the next three years, the quartet steady toured and produced two critically acclaimed albums - Radio-Activity (1975), a concept album about radio, and Trans-Europe Express (1977), about Europe and the disparities between imagination and reality.
Liz Fitzgibbon was born and raised in County Cork, Ireland. Through her early years she became an in-demand soloist, and began writing songs in 1997. She first came to the attention of the Christian music industry through her involvement in worship at her local church. Her synthesis of traditional Celtic motifs with modern worship attracted the powers that be at Kingsway Music, as did her sweet, pure voice. She got her big break appearing on The New Celts Volume 2 (2002). This recording helped to lay the groundwork for both the resulting albums and her work across the UK and USA, joining the likes of Iona at the forefront of contemporary Celtic Christian music.
The 1980s had not been kind for Bob Dylan. After converting to Christianity, which spawned the album Slow Train Coming (1979), he went through a 'gospel phase', releasing albums which won him audiences in the Bible Belt but few critical plaudits elsewhere. Throughout the rest of the decade his output oscillated from the acclaimed Infidels (1983) to the tiresome Knocked Out Loaded (1986). While the 1990s saw a continuation of Dylan's hectic touring schedule, it saw no new material, only endless compilations, a live album for MTV and a brace of albums containing covers of traditional roots and folk songs. This lack of new material led many to questions whether the sun had finally set on Dylan's career.
Morcheeba formed in the winter of 1995 by brothers Ross and Paul Godfrey, former griddle chefs from Kent. Teaming up with session vocalist Shirley Klarisse Yonavive Edwards, better known as Skye. Their debut album, Who Can You Trust? (1996) came at the height of 'the Bristol sound' (also known as trip-hop), pioneered by Massive Attack on their album Blue Lines (1991). Critical reception was warm but sales dragged while more established acts, like Massive Attack, continued to dominate. Feeling that trip-hop posed a dead end, the trio retreated to the studio to dream it all up again.
Chris Lyons was born in Dalkeith, Scotland in 1987. A child progidy, he began winning national composition competitions at the age of 7, and by age 10 he was performing his work for the Edinburgh Contemporary Arts Trust. Outside of music, he won the acclaimed Pushkin Prize for Poetry. After he graduated from the City of Edinburgh Music School - the youngest person ever to do so - he began working on a novel. His fascinations with jazz and the state of modern music in general has made him a bright young hopeful in the jazz scene, as proved by the performance of his Trio at the Edinburgh Jazz & Blues Festival in July 2007.
Ziggy Stardust, both the album and the personality, had turned Bowie into a glam rock superstar. Having had some small flirtations with fame in the three years preceding - 'Space Oddity' and 'The Man Who Sold The World' being singles highlights - he had until now remained a kooky figure, sought after by producers but on the commercial sidelines. Ziggy Stardust changed that, producing five hit singles and a series of extravagant, sell-out tours, featuring Bowie in his now-trademark red hair and androgynous, flared outfits. Between tours, Bowie turned producer on Transformer (1972) - Lou Reed's solo breakthrough - and The Stooges' Raw Power (1972), both artists being icons of Bowie. After frenetic touring, the Spiders from Mars finally returned to the studio after Christmas.
Having reached the apex of his cocaine-induced madness on Station To Station (1976, #100), Bowie relocated to Berlin to dry out and live with Brian Eno. Over the next three years Bowie produced a series of albums with Eno as producer which became known as the Berlin Trilogy. The first offering, Low (1977), was a introspective onslaught, showcasing Bowie's fears of addiction and repeating himself ('Always Crashing In The Same Car'). "Heroes", which followed later in the same year, combined jagged rock songs with unhinged, edgy soundscapes, utilising Eno's love of ambient music. The final album, Lodger (1979), was more pop-friendly and combined the innovations of the last two records with the pop edge which would be embraced by the New Wave in the early-1980s. Having battled his demons and won, Bowie sought to draw together this new, edgy sound with the modified glam rock which had made him a star.
After graduating from the University of Liverpool, Sale-born Gray began his career as a folk rocker. In the early days of obscurity, he relied on his fanbase in the Republic of Ireland, which he had earned thanks to the patronage of comic playwright Pat Ingoldsby. In 1993 Gray signed to EMI and released his debut, A Century Ends. Both this and its successors, Flesh (1994) and Sell, Sell, Sell (1996), were folk-rock albums which received a lukewarm reception from the critics and sold relatively poorly. Following this poor showing, Gray was dropped from EMI. Over the next two years he signed to Iht Records before going in hiatus.
Born Francis Turner in Bahrain, Turner was educated at Eton and entered the music business in 2001 as the vocalist for hardcore punk band Million Dead. The group, which included Turner's old friend Ben Dawson on drums, lasted four years and released two albums. But after the loss of guitarist Dean Cameron in late 2004, the band's fortunes and finances dwindled, and they parted ways at the end of a tour in September 2005. Capitalising upon well-received solo gigs in 2004 - intended to expose Million Dead rather than undermine them - Turner began a full-time solo career and relocated to Oxford to compose material for an EP.
