Franz Ferdinand

They practiced in a derelict Glasgow warehouse they called the Château until the cops shut it down for being an unlicensed art space. Alex Kapranos and the boys weren't looking to reinvent the wheel; they just wanted to make records that girls could dance to, using sharp angles and even sharper suits. When Domino signed them, the UK press was desperate for a savior, but Franz Ferdinand didn't want the crown. They wanted the rhythmic rigidity of post-punk mixed with the strut of a disco floor, and for one self-titled record in 2004, they nailed it perfectly. Then the pressure of being the 'next big thing' started to rot the wood. You can hear them overthinking it on the follow-up, trying to maintain that jagged edge while the budgets got bigger and the tours got longer. They spent years oscillating between wanting to be a weird art-rock collective and a massive pop machine. By the time Nick McCarthy bailed in 2016 to focus on his family and his own projects, the original chemistry was cooked. They've since pivoted to a five-piece lineup that leans harder into the synth-heavy dance-rock they teased back in the late 2000s, proving they’re better at being a party band than a revolution.

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