Album Review: The Human Fear by Franz Ferdinand

At least no one here needs to be afraid of change with Franz Ferdinand’s latest effort. It works, it steams, it churns out another Ferdinand. If only Franz Ferdinand were a coffee machine.

Courtesy of Domino Recording Co Ltd.

According to Franz Ferdinand, all good things begin with fear, and they dedicate their album The Human Fear to that feeling so many people find uncomfortable. It’s true enough: without fear, our ancestors would have optimistically stumbled into a herd of mammoths—with dire consequences. That famous gut feeling can also protect us from bad decisions.

In a sensible dose, fear helps us survive—and it leads us to the indie veterans’ sixth album. With the spark provided by “Take Me Out,” the great retro wave of the 2000s kicked off in Europe—a defining moment in more recent rock history. No sleazy American-rocker poses here, but rather British dandy style and chic dancing attire. The band from Glasgow belongs in any proper canon of the 2000s and remains firmly rooted there. Slick, well-groomed rock music for everyone, not just for the boys’ club. The hype around the band subsided long ago, and ever since, they reappear every few years, like an invitation to a class reunion.

As though nothing had happened in the meantime, Alex Kapranos casually announces “Audacious” with a nonchalant “Here we go with riff one” and whips out a Beatles-esque little tune from his silky shirt sleeve. After 21 years with Franz Ferdinand, he knows what works, sticking to the tried-and-true mix of post-punk riffs and classic songwriting. Fans needn’t worry about change: everything stays neatly in its place. It works, it steams, it churns out another Ferdinand. If only Franz Ferdinand were a coffee machine.

“Build It Up” and similar cozy sing-along tracks in safe administrative mode guarantee solid craftsmanship. Still, as a music fan, I’m allowed—and inclined—to expect more because this band once embodied the exhilarating moments of retro rock. Back in the day, “This Fire” left you adrenaline-charged, breathless, and drenched in sweat.

The funk-electro sound of “Hooked” is supposed to channel that sense of danger again—the potential to kill the dance floor with a single riff. But it does sound quite familiar. They already came across like time travelers twenty years ago, so it’s only fitting that they’d now bring that old Timbaland sound into the present. After a few listens, you have to admit it works pretty well, even if the song teases a certain level of escalation that ultimately bows to the Scottish dictate of coolness.

Incidentally, the defining synth line comes from Julian Corrie, who releases exciting electronic music as Miaux Miaux and finds himself somewhat underused as the keyboardist of these retro-rockers. Franz Ferdinand in dance-rock mode is far more compelling than the formulaic closing track “The Birds,” one of those songs they likely have—and will continue to—copy onto every album.

It’s a shame about the truly strong start to The Human Fear, which, with “Hooked” and “The Doctor,” occasionally offers a pleasant tingle. Right then, the motivation to catch the Scots live again creeps back. Because of all the criticism about the routine nature of their albums, something is comforting in their reliability. You see a poster for the band and instantly get that nostalgic kickback to what feels like a simpler time. “Life is never going to be easy/But if you’re living it with me/We’re gonna live it up night or day,” Alex Kapranos promises in “Night or Day.” It’s good to know you have such loyal friends by your side.

Above Average (★★★☆☆)

Favorite Track(s): “Hooked,” “Tell Me I Should Stay,” “Night or Day”