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Franz Ferdinand, Editors, The Rakes, Alexandra Palace, November 30 2005

added 06 December 2005 at 11.02

The dizzyingly rapid rise of labelmates Arctic Monkeys may make Franz Ferdinand’s ascendancy to headlining the 8,000-capacity Alexandra Palace less than two years after the release of their debut album seem sluggish by comparison. Yet be that as it may, there’s no escaping the fact that Franz Ferdinand deserve to be here.

More than any band of recent years, Franz Ferdinand have re-introduced the idea of fun back into the arena of guitar music while their original M.O. of “…making girls dance” has crossed over to the extent that the Glaswegian quartet has sold this ornate venue out across a record-breaking four nights.

Though the evening ultimately belongs to the headliners, the addition of The Rakes and Editors to the bill gives tonight’s event an added sense of gravitas and occasion that marks this down as a watershed. That’s certainly the case for The Rakes who tonight conclusively prove that they’ve left the scene that spawned them and the bands they once rubbed shoulders with in the dust. Not content with releasing one of 2005’s finest debuts, The Rakes have blossomed from a state of charming ineptitude into a band that’s at once ferocious, funny and utterly relevant. 'Terror!' is lean and streamlined, Matthew Swinnerton’s sinewy guitar twisting beautifully against the watertight rhythms that back it while 'Strasbourg' simply erupts. Any doubts over The Rakes are simply dissipated when '22 Grand Job'’s chorus is heard being sung well into the night.

Editors' rise to tonight’s challenge with all the verve of seasoned campaigners. Tom Smith is possessed of an inexhaustible energy that sees him take command of the stage as he twists and hops throughout Editors’ allocated time slot. Though in stark contrast to The Rakes, Editors are no less compelling as 'Lights' announces their arrival. Chris Urbanowicz’s status as a guitar hero is confirmed as the skittering shards of sound that emanate from his hands during 'Blood' resonate across the venue’s expanses and elsewhere, an urgent and propulsive 'All Sparks' fulfils the initial promise made by this band.

Franz Ferdinand, of course, made good on their promise some time back but tonight they look like stars. Scratch that – they are stars. Even the oft-ridiculed Bob Hardy who tonight becomes an unsung hero. While Alex Kapranos has become something of an urbane man-about-town with his near-relentless ubiquity and ready comment on just about any subject you’d care to throw his way, Bob Hardy has become a rock. His pumping bass turns 'Auf Acshe' into a throbbing disco monster and urges 'Do You Want To' to stellar heights and for once he actually seems to be enjoying himself.

Alex Kapranos is entirely in his element though at times his reliance on showbiz clichés becomes a tad tiresome. The need to make such a song and dance when introducing the band is questionable but minor quibbles aside Franz Ferdinand absolutely fill the venue through sheer force of personality and infectious material. Though their sternest critics regard them coldly arch, Franz Ferdinand don’t pretend to be anything other than a great guitar pop band. Against a backdrop of constructivist imagery, Kapranos and his cohorts whip up a frenzy as the likes of 'Darts Of Pleasure', 'Take Me Out' and 'This Boy' do their do while 'Walk Away' and 'Eleanor Put Your Boots On' add pace and texture to wonderfully pitched set list.

Though it’s Franz Ferdinand’s name at the top of the bill, tonight’s opening salvo of their four-night stand is a stunning hat trick for British guitar music.

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