Franz Ferdinand : London Covent Garden Africa Centre

German/Glaswegian fops' Weller-baiting indie-gloom

With the garage rock revival on the wane, what we need is something a little, well, arty. Something to really piss off those Campaign For Real Rock-types who prop up bars up and down the country and whine on and on about ‘proper’ music. Those curmudgeons are armed with a crushing earnestness that’ll make you weep.

Sure, there’s signs that it’s changing, but these shoots of arch smartness in the form of [a]Yeah Yeah Yeahs[/a] and [a]Interpol[/a] have been stateside. Enter Glasgow’s Franz Ferdinand. Pretentious name. Suits. Silent movies projected onto a backdrop. God, this lot are Noel and Kelly’s worst nightmare.

But, of course, posing is only a small aspect of what Franz do. Tonight they’re raiding the music playroom for some flattering stuttering guitar riffs that’d make [a]Interpol[/a] gambol with delight while Alex and Nick tart it up with utterly mannered vocals. However, they always making sure that there’s a princely post punk tune to overshadow the masquerade. God, they’ve even got the nous on ‘Shopping For Blood’ to splice together the DNA of [a]Fall[/a] and the drumming of Adam And The Ants. Not to mention the sense to look a 1,000 times prettier than both.

Forthcoming single ‘Darts Of Pleasure’ is inevitably the highlight: a vaudevillian confection of eyebrow-raised danceability that’d make you frug your legs down to the knees. Franz Ferdinand: set to annoy a dullard near you very soon.

Anthony Thornton