Friday 12/09/03 Franz Ferdinand, Ladytron @ Carling Academy, Liverpool

With all the current hoo haa about all things garage punk, it’s worth remembering that we Brits tend to do things differently to our Stateside and Antipodean cousins. Where the current vogue for Ozzie punks seems to be based around age old clichés of drinking, ODing and crashing ones car (thanks Jet), back in Blighty we like to mix in more high brow subject matter, literary references, manifestos and the like. Let’s call it the "Art School" effect, for it’s these seats of learning that are responsible for that mile wide streak of intelligence that runs through British music and has given us The Who, The Kinks, Ian Dury, Wire and Blur. 

With their historical name, tight nylon shirts and slick side partings, Franz Ferdinand are as art school as they come. In fact their studio is rumoured to be some kind of art deco warehouse from which the Glasgow four piece are alleged to have run an illegal bar. Of course all this would be pointless mythologising, if it weren’t for Franz Ferdinand’s wonderful knack of mixing The Doors, Talking Heads, XTC, Sparks and Blondie into a glorious, spiky whole of new wave pop brilliance. Tinny organs, ecstatic hand claps, bizarre time shifts and German lyrics all contribute to a sound which is both excitingly clever and downright silly at the same time. It’s a nigh on perfect mix of art punk funk as sampled on their ‘Darts of Pleasure’ single which hints at great things to come.

Another band who seem too clever for their own good, Liverpool’s Ladytron, tonight seem to relish the challenge thrown down by Franz Ferdinand’s brilliance. This is after all their back yard and there’s an undeniable swagger in their step as they take the stage to a rapturous reception. It’s all such a refreshing change from the Ladytron of old who seemed weighed down by nerves and the technical difficulties of replicating their futuristic electro trappings in a live setting. Now with the addition of a real live bass guitar and a human drummer they sound more powerful than ever.

The accusation so often levelled at electro bands is that they lack emotion. Ladytron however take care to play with your emotions both musically and lyrically: Their songs throb and gurgle with a woozy decadence that counterpoints the poignancy and sadness that seems to lie at the bruised heart of their best songs. The sexual one-upmanship of ‘He Took Her to a Movie’, the left on the shelf rejection of ‘Seventeen’ and best of all the beautiful loneliness of ‘Playgirl’ are all genuinely moving. The little girl lost act of singer Helen complements the dynamism of both the band and fellow singer Mia, but by the end she too seems to be gripped by the intricate brilliance of it all, and we have the unlikely image of Ladytron, foot on monitors headbanging as if there was no tomorrow. Not only is it a pleasant surprise but it seems terribly apt. Tonight we’ve seen Ladytron throw off their cold image and give us a lesson in expression and feeling and who’d have thought that?

Photos by Shelly Turner