Favorite Albums: 2000-200410. Franz Ferdinand, Franz FerdinandOriginal position on my Stylus ballot: n/a God, do I love an assured, self-titled debut. “Hi, we’re this. Boom.” Bob Dylan made one, Van Halen made one, Franz Ferdinand made one. FF were the cute British guys dishing out jaunty, jagged guitar-pop about hunting, charades and ever so many delightful romantic misunderstandings. Period. SPIN’s “Hot 20” or whatever cracked that Franz felt like a greatest hits comp after six months or so, and that’s even truer now. With the exception of “Do You Want To?” nothing they’ve done since has lived up to the blueprint. You’d think modern new wave bands would realize getting slower and more obtuse with each album is the cliche, but noooo…. While the important UK rock debuts of the last twenty-odd years tend to open with ridiculously drawled songs about the group’s desire to be famous, Franz cheered “we only work when we need the money” before skipping off to the club to see what trouble they could get into. It was an all-inclusive party, with “Dark Of The Matinee” giving flirtation tips to kids, “Michael” toying with homoeroticism and “This Fire” reducing the message to pure hubba-hubba. I don’t know if they felt like hi-hat-humping jesters or what, but I wish they’d risked losing our respect more in the years that followed.

Favorite Albums: 2000-2004
10. Franz Ferdinand, Franz Ferdinand
Original position on my Stylus ballot: n/a

God, do I love an assured, self-titled debut. “Hi, we’re this. Boom.” Bob Dylan made one, Van Halen made one, Franz Ferdinand made one. FF were the cute British guys dishing out jaunty, jagged guitar-pop about hunting, charades and ever so many delightful romantic misunderstandings. Period. SPIN’s “Hot 20” or whatever cracked that Franz felt like a greatest hits comp after six months or so, and that’s even truer now. With the exception of “Do You Want To?” nothing they’ve done since has lived up to the blueprint. You’d think modern new wave bands would realize getting slower and more obtuse with each album is the cliche, but noooo….

While the important UK rock debuts of the last twenty-odd years tend to open with ridiculously drawled songs about the group’s desire to be famous, Franz cheered “we only work when we need the money” before skipping off to the club to see what trouble they could get into. It was an all-inclusive party, with “Dark Of The Matinee” giving flirtation tips to kids, “Michael” toying with homoeroticism and “This Fire” reducing the message to pure hubba-hubba. I don’t know if they felt like hi-hat-humping jesters or what, but I wish they’d risked losing our respect more in the years that followed.