Tonight is the second homecoming night for a band needing to justify who is the biggest Glasgow band, and with the illustrious ballroom that is the Barrowlands they could not ask for a more ideal location. Tonight does not come with the excitement it could following a new album that could so easily have passed under the radar and with Franz being a common sight around the city, despite two of them residing outside Glasgow. Still the prospect of hearing the tracks that won over almost the whole country is enough to sell out the venue twice and surely more.
Support tonight comes from the latest California buzz band The Soft Pack whose main column filler has come from a controversial name change. Formerly The Muslims they changed their name following violent attacks from idiots who believed them to be either racists or terrorists. The band has won praise for their music too drawing comparisons with lists of illustrious acts. Either way they have gained a name for themselves and their current tour schedule goes some way to prove it, with this support slot is followed by full US and UK headline tours, and dates at SXSW, ATP and Primavera.
Tonight the band seems bedazzled by an almost static crowd impatient to see their heroes. They appear rigid and unenthusiastic as if they had given up on winning over the audience, possibly down to a poor reception the previous night. However they get through the set without expelling too much energy and get off as fast as they can, that is not to say they were bad possibly in their own environment a band like this would thrive. You can see evidence in their songs where comparisons with bands like Pavement and The Strokes have come. It is easy to see how tracks like closers ‘Parasites’ and ‘Nightlife’ could be loved by those who have adopted that alternative indie scene. Tonight The Soft Pack do themselves no justice and the majority of the crowd wont go as far as learning their name.
Franz as expected enter to the complete opposite reception, it is as if you are back in 2004 when they won over multitudes of fans with their sing-a-long brand of post punk. Just the word ‘Glasgow’ leaving Alex’s lips are enough to draw a euphoric response from the crowd as if the city is welcoming home its own kings.
The set itself is its usual enjoyable yet shambolic Franz Ferdinand affair, but that is what it always was. The band flows through a set of old and new with each song receiving an up roaring retort from this excitable crowd. The odd duff note and Alex not being able to hit notes he would have five years ago go almost unnoticed as the crowd sing along to every word. The thing is, in Glasgow at least, Franz will always be forgiven these mistakes it is the way they have always been. Now they are getting old some pushing forty, they can be given even more scope but what they have done for the reputation of Glasgow music will assure they are always loved. As I leave a show packed full classic tracks and joyful hero worshipers it is clear who Glasgow’s biggest band are, and I think the band knows it too.
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