FFS, WTF? idk w/e…
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[5.09]
Alfred Soto: The singer sounded enough like Alex Kapranos for me to check and, yeah, this is the official collaboration between Franz Ferdinand and Sparks, anticipated by some. This combination of music hall and mess hall terrified me after thirty seconds: dreary with forced wit (“epithets and Cheerios that never fail to score,” what the hell), leaden with ridiculous instrument choices. Even the reflexive punchline “The essential parts aren’t there” is inaccurate — “Piss Off” is what I expected this collaboration to sound like.
[3]
Megan Harrington: Did anyone ask for this?
[3]
Micha Cavaseno: Not for nothing, this is pretty cute. You really can’t tell who are the old men here, as Franz Ferdinand were always plenty stodgy, and Sparks always eager to play the pranksters. So the blend they work is so surprisingly natural, all slabs of glam meets nerd. Thurston Moore is hating, I have it on good authority from the angels in heaven, ’cause they’re totally currently retweeting this one a good few times.
[8]
Madeleine Lee: A tedious showtune about people who are tedious.
[2]
Thomas Inskeep: What a fascinatingly thorough collaboration that actually sounds equally of both Franz Ferdinand and Sparks. In another era NME would’ve breathlessly covered this; today they’ll be lucky to get mentioned on NPR. Which is a shame, because this offers a similar rush to Pulp at their most acerbic.
[6]
Scott Mildenhall: This song was written in the stars, or at least some form of Alex Kapranos wish fulfilment. It seems to border over-theatrical, but really this is exactly how it has to be. Daft joy reaches new heights with “I want to harmonise“, in a way that will be intolerable for a lot of people, but that’s no worry with such a joyous defence mechanism inbuilt.
[7]
Katherine St Asaph: This is all one big piss-take (…right?), and I’m not convinced FFS didn’t perform “Piss Off” in the pub mid-vomiting beer all over each other and the piano too. But… sometimes you just really want everybody to piss off. Bonus point for the cheery “I Can’t Decide” nihilism. Another bonus point because if I ever become a kindergarten teacher I am totally using “FRANZ FERDINAND AND SPARKS” as a way to not cuss.
[7]
Juana Giaimo: It’s quite incredible how Franz Ferdinand started as one of the most dynamic and fun bands to listen to, but are now so bland and even boring sometimes. But what most hurts is that they seem to try to be what they used to and can’t, but they never dare to detach from that past. And Sparks — who seem like a simple guest in this song — don’t help them a lot.
[4]
Edward Okulicz: Sparks having changed their style more or less every decade, it’s surprising that “Piss Off” could probably have passed for a rerecording of a Kimono My House-era outtake. It’s also got a bit of vaudevillian charm to it that’s less Franz Ferdinand and maybe a bit more Belle & Sebastian, which isn’t a surprise if you caught their Two Hands One Mouth tour. The song’s got lots of great bits — “get! right! to! the! point! and! there’s! the DOOR!” and some slightly less great glue binding them, but it’s a comforting union of two sounds I like from two bands not quite at the peak of their powers. That is to say, good enough, still keen to hear the album.
[6]
Brad Shoup: Sparks are best at pastiche; I’m still not sure what Franz Ferdinand’s good at. Apparently it’s goading their elders into making more flat cabaret.
[4]
Will Adams: It’s 12:45am. You’ve barely made a dent in your fourth $3 pint because it tastes like piss, but you ordered it anyway because you’re low on cash and desperate to feel any sense of buzz that will make this night better. Your friends are talking with their friends who you don’t know. You don’t have the courage to say goodbye to them, because then they’ll see you leaving as you came in — alone. But hey, the band’s still playing, and they’re drunk too. They probably don’t want to be here, either. It’s hard to hear what they’re saying because the din in this horribly lit dive is already working your last damn nerve, but also everything about the band — their instrumentation, enunciation, mixing — is incoherent. The important words stick through, though: tell everybody to piss off. Go home. It’s not working tonight, and you can either get on the subway and make it back at a decent hour or stay here wallowing. Get to the point and point to the open door, and file this night away as something to recall someday, but not remember forever.
[6]