Review Summary: Same picture, nicer frame.
Franz Ferdinand have been locked in a stalemate with the universe since the release of their 2004 self-titled. Doomed to never stray from their indie dance-rock blueprint two decades on, only ever allowed to skirt the edges of the genre box that put them on a pedestal in the first place. It’s a terrible fate, stymied by the need to make only what they’re comfortable making. They branch out a little every time, but it’s never enough and it’s also not a guaranteed positive. Always Ascending was a mess of shoddy disco tunes, attempts at Sinatra-esque crooning and whatever Huck and Jim was supposed to be.
With this kind of track record, the band undulates narrowly between ‘a little better’ and ‘a little worse’ than average with each release. The Human Fear is a step in the right direction - while frustrating to see them continue this pattern, at least we’re on the upswing. Additional plus - The Human Fear is produced by Mark Ralph, the guy responsible for the production of most of Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action, low-key actually the bands best work. That record felt like the strongest distillation of what the band ‘s always aiming for - slick lyricism, punchy beats and grooves to sway and bob your head to.
And thank goodness, that’s what most of this record is comprised of. With a few exceptions, this is Franz Ferdinand firmly in the green, on the money, hitting all their marks. Everydaydreamer is an airy tune that’s got a sticky chorus and a good melody to boot. Night and Day feels like an instant classic, and is helped by Alex’s vocal delivery. He plays up a rasp that announces that he has in fact been doing this for two full decades, and they show no signs of stopping. The album also ends on a high note with the one two of Bar Lonely and Birds, both slotting into that comfortable, bouncy indie rock style they know like the back of their hands.
It’s not just old tricks that manage to impress - The Human Fear’s attempts at branching out go down rather smoothly. Hooked hits you with some chunky synths, calling back to the disco of Always Ascending. It wastes no time in setting up a foot stomping beat with a synth that sticks out, the lyrics announcing the album title like its going out of style. A synth also buzzes around The Doctor, the shortest and punchiest of this bunch by a mile. Tell Me I Should Stay opens with a beautiful piano-laden intro, making way for an ethereal psychedelic tune with a chorus that explodes like an orchestral Beach Boys track. It’s the highlight of the album, brighter and sunnier than their usual fare, and significantly more layered. Unfortunately on the flip side, Audacious sounds uninspired and plodding, and Black Eyelashes goes for an on-the-nose mediterranean sound, the lyrics a basic primer in Greek locations as Alex appears to reminisce on some night-time tryst. If there’s any fat to this lean record, it’s probably these two tracks.
I think they come out on top with this one. The forays outside of their status quo end up better more often than not, and Alex’s vocals are still solid, his lyrics relatively slick. This is unmistakably Franz Ferdinand. Clocking in at a brisk thirty five minutes, the record doesn’t overstay its welcome, so fans can throw it right back on and non-fans will be happy to see it over so soon. I can’t help but think this would’ve been disastrous with anyone other than Mark Ralph as a second in command, though - at its heart, this does almost feel like a redux of Right Thoughts, perhaps with a little more pizazz. Ultimately, The Human Fear is punchy, bouncy indie rock with a few quirky influences at its edges. Thankfully, this time, they brighten the frame.
