-Liz

Any band who hangs with koalas is okay in my book.

When I heard Yeasayer’s “I Remember” off the experimental rock band’s latest album Odd Blood, I immediately asked for the album.

It was the first time in awhile a band I’d never heard of had caught my attention, but I loved the beat and the nearly dance-like quality of the track. It was a synthesizer-driven, melodic song, very pretty and very well put together.

Little did I know that the rest of the album would be radically different track to track. But folks, don’t let that deter you from this album. If you like synth, catchy beats and vocals that are easy on the ears, Yeasayer is a solid bet. Just bear in mind that these guys are an experimental, psychedelic rock band, and some of the music they make is pretty peculiar.

Opener “The Children” is a little bizarre right from the start, with a voice modulator skewing any sense of normalcy the vocals could have had. A simple piano beat repeats in the background, and it would almost turn me off from the album for sheer creepiness if I didn’t know how much fun the rest of the songs sounded.

“Ambling Alp” is a prime example of that.  A short glock rhythm leads into a poppy little jam about sticking up for yourself. The song has goofy little psych-pop interludes of abstract sounds and synth chords, but they don’t detract from catchiness of the track. Singer Chris Keating jumps from solid tenor lines to crazy, Scissor Sisters-like falsettos, but somehow it all works.

The following track, “Madder Red” is slower, but still as intricate as the previous. It’s a pretty, heartbreaking number, one that uses smatterings of electric guitar and steady drums to add a darker shade to the melody. “Even when my luck is down / I take joy in knowing that our love grows / But if my vices are a burden / Please don’t let me off / Cast me from your home,” Keating sings, and even though it’s a simple song, he does a phenomenal job of pulling off the sincerity. And the humming intro and underlay is really neat, too.

For as different as each song sounds, none are long enough to be overly off-putting. Half the album clocks in at less than four minutes a song and a couple of tracks are less than three.

Keating’s wild falsetto comes back with a vengeance in “Love Me Girl,” but three minutes in the lyrics drop away for a lengthy instrumental interlude. The vocals pick up again in the last minute and the song skirts the edge of a major style change, throwing in snatches of new age sounds just to be confusing.

“Rome” takes the album in a whole new direction. Think a more electric Franz Ferdinand (from the newest album, anyway).  Romping bass lines juxtaposed with some almost horn-like synth tones and buoyant lyrics give this one a surprisingly jazz feel. And it totally works.

Echoing verses, light clapping and layered beats give “Strange Reunions” a world-music feel, running the gambit on psychedelic sounds.

And then Yeasayer is off again with a whole new sound in the pounding, clapping, bass-heavy “Mondegreen,” (which, on a silly aside, is a word that means the misinterpretation of a lyric. It may be because of this intimidating title that no one has tried to post the lyrics for this one online yet).  Your hands might get tired of clapping after the first couple minutes, but you will definitely want to dance through this song.

The back half of the album is definitely the part dedicated to excessive, clapping beats. But interestingly enough, each one is so varied that it’s a subtle repetition.

Closer “Grizelda” takes the sound back to the more lilting numbers like “I Remember” and “Madder Red” as Keating sings about running from a regrettable act. The lyrics and the vibe of the song don’t really match up, but it’s still an awfully harmonious song.

Though Odd Blood is Yeasayer’s second album since 2007, you don’t need to be familiar with All Hour Cymbals to appreciate the new album.

Every track has its own unique take on Yeasayer’s feel, and they all work as solid tracks both on their own and as an album.

-Liz

Righteous fury has never been so attractive.

This spring break marked my third trip with Project Appalachia and the southern organization Christian Outreach For Appalachian People. Thirty-seven students spent a week painting, cleaning and rehabbing houses in Harlan, Ky. It was an amazing experience, and for many of us who attended, Harlan is a place of fond memories and hopes for a town still suffering from the ill-effects of coal mining.

But a strange thing happened on our return: instead of sighing when trying to explain our typically obscure destination, people began to nod emphatically at the mention of Harlan. “With the coal mining, right?” they would ask. “And the drugs and the skinheads?”

Though we did not encounter any of the latter during our stay, these statements weren’t far off. And my mother finally cleared up my confusion when she called to rave about the premier of an FX show called Justified, which features the always-attractive Timothy Olyphant as a U.S. Marshal who gets relocated after a public shootout in Florida.

Once she was done gushing over his big brown eyes and southern drawl, she explained that Olyphant gets shipped back to Harlan County, Ky., where he grew up.

And suddenly everything made sense, from the cursory references to the region when we had spent spring break to the allusions to Time articles about the area for the first time since the unionization attempts of the ’70s.

Justified has put Harlan back on the radar. Still riding the glow from the service trip, a bunch of us settled in front of our TVs to check out the place that had recently been our home.

And though it may not be an accurate representation of the county, it was still pretty kickin’.

The action-driven show is full of smart dialogue, references to the area’s history and eye candy for all. Raylan Givens (Olyphant) is sent to bust fugitives in Harlan, some of whom he knows from his youth. He tracks these goons to backwater abandoned churches that now serve as skinhead training centers and meets up with an old crush who just murdered her husband with his own shotgun.

Writer Elmore Leonard’s Harlan is a wild place, and though it is by no means the one we stayed and worked in, it makes for some excellent television.

Olyphant is experienced in the ways of the western from his protagonist role in three seasons of HBO’s Deadwood a few years back, and he carries the remnants of his time as a sheriff in the lawless town in South Dakota.

Givens is intimidating and scary and enthralling all at the same time, and the show really plays to that. Though his attire is typically dark, his weathered white hat stands as the symbol of the good guy, giving him the ambiguous vibe that is synonymous with the role. When he speaks with old friend Boyd Crowder, he says “Boyd” with just enough condescension in his voice that he could be saying “boy” as the two glare at each other. His fearless riffs as he stands in front of people pointing guns at him is breathtaking. He has clearly mastered this role.

What is accurate in the show are the surface allusions to the world of coal and the sense of unfulfilled potential that runs through the characters living in Harlan. Country songwriter Darrell Scott wrote a song called “You’ll Never Leave Harlan Alive,” and the show reflects that mentality.

The men with the swastikas on their chests are running from the mines and looking for some sense of purpose, however warped, to keep them out of there. Ava, the avenged wife, serves dinner in her dining room two days after cleaning up the blood from where she shot her abusive, miserable coal-miner husband. Givens is stunned that he is returning to Harlan, the home he tried so desperately to escape.

Justified is an amazing show, whether you like the idea of a modern western, are feeling nostalgic for eastern Kentucky or just don’t feel like moving from the couch on Tuesday nights after your Lost fix. It has action, emotion and beautiful, beautiful Olyphant. What more could you ask for?

-Liz

Foxy AND delicious.

Today I offer an ode to one of my favorite Philly acts.

Are you looking for some garage rock with some panache? Maybe some fun chant-along choruses and infectious drum beats? Turn away from your Web browsers. Close Pitchfork and R5 and look around you. The band you’re looking for is staked out right here in Philadelphia, and its name is J.Fox.

There is no band that acts or sounds quite like this threesome. They boast a low-fi edge that immediately calls to mind early Pixies or a teenage Isaac Brock screaming gibberish into a telephone. The guitar is raw, the drums are tight and the lyrics skirt the line between genius and nonsense (regardless of which, they sure sound way cool). The band’s fans are zealous, and its newest EP is a 7-inch split, appropriately titled Banana Split, with MATT = TANK, a side-project from fellow local band Algernon Cadwallader.

J.Fox’s 2008 release We’re Happy to Be Here is pretty indicative of this band’s prerogative. The songs are racy and fun, with tracks about everything from Brooklyn to girls and drinking to catching catfish down at the lake and frying them while listening to the Cure.  Sound silly? The band certainly is, but in a really spunky, smart way.

Singer Justin Miller has a mastery of lyrics that goes unmatched in the area. The songs are rough and typically on the shorter side of things, but they are chock full of character. Drummer Joey DeLorenzo lays down some of the most fun beats I’ve ever heard (and they are rife with tambourine, which gives me a personal bias from the start). Dan Weisberg possesses a stage presence that is simultaneously suave and affectionate.

Though the band has put out another CD since We’re Happy To Be Here, there was no better way to kick off the group’s solid career.  The more recent release, 5/6, has a darker sound overall, but still keeps the low-fi spirit that this band harnesses so well. Song “Bam Bam” is primarily that line over and over again, but who can’t love a song about the Trash Can Man?

And the best part? These are also three of the nicest guys you could ever hope to meet. At a show in South Philly last weekend they gave away free copies of its 7″ to anyone with a record player.

They banter with their audience and always seem to be enjoying themselves, whether they are playing in a bar or the back room of a warehouse.

Check J.Fox out at myspace.com/jfoxband for free tunes, silly cartoon music videos and news on these guys’ escapades. You won’t regret it.

-Liz

We can't stop here! This is bat country!

Whether you know him as Johnny Depp racing across the desert toward Las Vegas with a drug-addled Benecio del Torro at his side or you have read of his radical, political viewpoints and cross country search for the American Dream, Hunter S. Thompson was a legendary journalist who captured the counter culture of a unique age in America. No one since has held the same disregard for typical American ideals while creating such a huge, reverent following.

Though you can still pick up nearly all his books in the nearest Barnes and Nobles and watch Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas while pining for the glory days of substance abuse and rebellion, there is nothing that compiled the wide array of Thompson’s life, attitude and works quite like Gonzo, the documentary-turned-memorial complete with personal interviews and footage from every period of the famed journalist’s life.

This movie includes everything from Thompson’s work with Rolling Stone and his attempt to run for sheriff of his town to excerpts from his works read by Depp. The film covers Thompson’s extensive projects, from his first major book about his year spent with the Hell’s Angels to his political coverage (including a rumor about an alleged pill-popping presidential candidate) to his Fear and Loathing exploits in Las Vegas.

Television interviews show him relaxed and confident as he converses about his journalistic endeavors while others show him talking and laughing as he lights a joint while on air. This movie reveals some of the crazier nuances of Hunter’s life. Family and friends reflect on his childhood in a lower-class family that sparked his initial bitterness toward the upper crust and instilled his belief that the American way of life was rigged.

As a young man, he typed The Great Gatsby repeatedly so he could better understand the rhythm of a keyboard. Later in life he had a pet bird named Edward that he would bounce ideas off of during his downtime. Though none of this was particularly surprising for a man with such an eccentric character, a run for sheriff certainly was. But that’s exactly what he did in Aspen County, Colo.

In the film, Depp reads Thompson’s platform about legalizing drugs and sewing the roads with grass seed while wielding a pistol. Thompson’s television ads show him riding through the mountains on his BSA Lightning motorbike, and election footage portrays him draped in an American flag and a gray-haired wig. He lost, if you couldn’t guess—but not by much. Thompson is known most for two things—his political journalism and his drug use.

Fear and Loathing was just the start: Countless friends blame him for introducing them to acid, from famous illustrator Ralph Steadman to lawyer Oscar Acosta (del Torro in Fear and Loathing). He was a proponent of civil rights and liberal political leaders, voicing his support for 1972 presidential candidate George McGovern. After McGovern lost, Thompson felt himself internalizing his politics, only to emerge from his Wild-Turkey haze when Jimmy Carter quoted Bob Dylan in a speech.

Though the wild side of Thompson is the one known most by fans and followers, he was a man who could be inspired by underdogs and thunderstruck by governmental hostilities. His first wife, Sandy, only ever saw him cry twice, once after he returned from the riots in Chicago. Even the close of his life is well-documented in the movie. His former wives confirmed that Thompson felt he was losing his edge as a writer, and he told his family time and time again that he would end his life through suicide.

And on Feb. 20, 2005, the legendary Gonzo journalist shot himself. It’s a powerful ending. Scenes of Thompson’s memorial service, complete with a two-thumbed fist monument and the scattering of his ashes are juxtaposed with an interview with Thompson where he stands on the very hillside where the monument would be erected and described what he wanted done for his funeral. Thompson was more than an eccentric writer who changed wigs in the middle of conversations and taught the world about drug use in a public, functional setting.

He was a journalist who broke down the barriers of professionalism and instilled a new energy in a medium that now faces extinction.

The world of the Gonzo journalist may be waning, but Thompson’s legacy lives on in the wild ride of Gonzo.

-Liz

Meowza!

When I heard Yeasayer’s “I Remember” off the experimental rock band’s latest album Odd Blood, I immediately asked for the album.

It was the first time in awhile a band I’d never heard of had caught my attention, but I loved the beat and the nearly dance-like quality of the track. It was a synthesizer-driven, melodic song, very pretty and very well put together.

Little did I know that the rest of the album would be radically different track to track. But folks, don’t let that deter you from this album. If you like synth, catchy beats and vocals that are easy on the ears, Yeasayer is a solid bet. Just bear in mind that these guys are an experimental, psychedelic rock band, and some of the music they make is pretty peculiar.

Opener “The Children” is a little bizarre right from the start, with a voice modulator skewing any sense of normalcy the vocals could have had. A simple piano beat repeats in the background, and it would almost turn me off from the album for sheer creepiness if I didn’t know how much fun the rest of the songs sounded.

“Ambling Alp” is a prime example of that.  A short glock rhythm leads into a poppy little jam about sticking up for yourself. The song has goofy little psych-pop interludes of abstract sounds and synth chords, but they don’t detract from catchiness of the track. Singer Chris Keating jumps from solid tenor lines to crazy, Scissor Sisters-like falsettos, but somehow it all works.

The following track, “Madder Red” is slower, but still as intricate as the previous. It’s a pretty, heartbreaking number, one that uses smatterings of electric guitar and steady drums to add a darker shade to the melody. “Even when my luck is down / I take joy in knowing that our love grows / But if my vices are a burden / Please don’t let me off / Cast me from your home,” Keating sings, and even though it’s a simple song, he does a phenomenal job of pulling off the sincerity. And the humming intro and underlay is really neat, too.

For as different as each song sounds, none are long enough to be overly off-putting. Half the album clocks in at less than four minutes a song and a couple of tracks are less than three.

Keating’s wild falsetto comes back with a vengeance in “Love Me Girl,” but three minutes in the lyrics drop away for a lengthy instrumental interlude. The vocals pick up again in the last minute and the song skirts the edge of a major style change, throwing in snatches of new age sounds just to be confusing.

“Rome” takes the album in a whole new direction. Think a more electric Franz Ferdinand (from the newest album, anyway).  Romping bass lines juxtaposed with some almost horn-like synth tones and buoyant lyrics give this one a surprisingly jazz feel. And it totally works.

Echoing verses, light clapping and layered beats give “Strange Reunions” a world-music feel, running the gambit on psychedelic sounds.

And then Yeasayer is off again with a whole new sound in the pounding, clapping, bass-heavy “Mondegreen,” (which, on a silly aside, is a word that means the misinterpretation of a lyric. It may be because of this intimidating title that no one has tried to post the lyrics for this one online yet).  Your hands might get tired of clapping after the first couple minutes, but you will definitely want to dance through this song.

The back half of the album is definitely the part dedicated to excessive, clapping beats. But interestingly enough, each one is so varied that it’s a subtle repetition.

Closer “Grizelda” takes the sound back to the more lilting numbers like “I Remember” and “Madder Red” as Keating sings about running from a regrettable act. The lyrics and the vibe of the song don’t really match up, but it’s still an awfully harmonious song.

Though Odd Blood is Yeasayer’s second album since 2007, you don’t need to be familiar with All Hour Cymbals to appreciate the new album.

Every track has its own unique take on Yeasayer’s feel, and they all work as solid tracks both on their own and as an album.

-Liz

However, the band’s sophomore release, Our Ill Wills, did not arrive with the oomph or receive the commotion of its predecessor, and breaths were held concerning Work, which dropped Feb. 23.

Would this band boast another “Very Loud” or “Tonight I Have To Leave It,” or would they fade back into indie obscurity? Work’s answer is, well, neither.

The band has hit the middle of the road, with nothing painful on the ears but also nothing slated for a familiar movie soundtrack. It’s still a neat little album, but there’s nothing amazing or new being created by Shout Out Louds here.

Of course, it’s the albums like this that are the hardest to review.

Racy tracks like piano-driven “1999” and “Fall Harder” are catchy enough while they are on, inducing some foot-tapping and head-nodding during their durations, but nothing is noteworthy enough to get caught in a listener’s head.

That’s not to say these songs are bad. The simple buoyancy of “Candle Burned Out” is refreshing and fun.
From “Walls” to “Too Late, Too Slow,” the guitar and percussion are solid together and Olenius’s voice never stops being pretty to hear. “Play The Game” and “Moon” are slower, more instrumental tracks that are some of the most appealing, measured songs Shout Out Louds has made.

“Show Me Something New,” the strongest track on the album, is the closest the band comes to recapturing that Howl Howl sound. “You and I have a hard thing to describe / You have so much to live for / I’m just dying to stay alive,” sings Olenius, and with an equally catchy chorus, this song dominates.

Ignoring the fact that every other song has been an emotional ode, this one was has a successful edge that isn’t reflected in the rest of the album. Which is a shame.

It’s tricky to explain how Work misses the mark. This album has so much potential that predominantly goes unreleased from number to number.

Each song is a cute track that is easily forgettable and, unless you are looking for some lovesick background noise to clean, nap or write a paper to, will come and pass without you noticing the transition from song to song.

Hopefully, Shout Out Louds will get it together for its next album and rally around its Howl Howl roots.

-Liz

And we begin this rehabilitation with…some ass kicking.

It's not the comic, but it's still boss.

I’ll tell you what: There aren’t a whole lot of movies I will go to a theater to see twice. And there certainly aren’t many movies I would ever have interest in seeing twice in a row, yet there we were Friday night, driving back to La Salle from the Manyunk theater, when the question popped up. “So, um, you want to see that again? Like in 40 minutes?”

There was no hesitation. “Most definitely.”  Kick-Ass seems to be having that effect on people.
Superhero movies aren’t typically my forte. But that is why Kick-Ass is so good. It’s not about the awesomeness of superheros as they systematically defeat bad guys. It’s about what can drive a normal, everyday person to try to help the world. And for high school nobody and comic book freak Dave Lizewski (Aaron Johnson), this became a journey into super-heroism.

Lizewski is tired of getting mugged, tired of feeling worthless in his boring life, tired of watching people turn their backs on others in need.  He is with his two closest, geekiest friends in a local comic book shop when the question arises: “Why hasn’t anyone tried to be a superhero?”

His friends scoff, but Lizewski buys a costume, makes a vigilante Myspace page and starts to train. Hilarity and disaster ensue.

Lizewski starts his vigiliantism with a near-death experience and a subsequent school rumor questioning his sexual preferences, but he remains undaunted as he becomes Kick-Ass, searching for lost kittens and chatting about petty crimes across the city in his green wetsuit-ish costume. But when a boy with a camera phone posts a video of Kick-Ass beating up some thugs, he becomes a cultural hit.

This phenomenon draws the attention of two parties: One Frank D’Amico (Mark Strong), a city drug lord who heard that people dressed as superheroes (presumably Kick-Ass) are killing his men and taking his money, and Damon (Nick Cage) and Mindy Macraedy (Chloe Moretz), the actual costumed heroes who are wrecking D’Amico’s business.

The kicker? Mindy, aka the purple-wigged, in-your-face Hitgirl, is an 11-year-old born and raised assassin.  And boy, is she spunky. With a nonchalant attitude and a sailor mouth to boot, she is one intense little girl.

But her childhood is not indicative of some government plot or militia nightmare. Her partner in crime, “Big Daddy” Cage, plays his role of eccentric, cutthroat dedicated father perfectly. He is constantly referring to Mindy as “child” while quizzing her on the velocity of bullets and the native names of butterfly knives. They make hot chocolate together while they are planning their next attack, and he is often seen pulling at his illustrious moustache when he’s thinking.

But Cage can pull a serious face when he needs to, like when rehashing his D’Amico-sponsored time in jail from a drug frame and his wife’s subsequent death.  And though I was skeptical of this casting, he handled it magnificently.

Now, I have never been one for gratuitous violence. I am in the minority of those who would rather watch something that isn’t a Tarantino film and cringe at bloody scenes in most movies. But what sets Kick-Ass apart is the sheer outrageousness of the plot and the lighthearted interjections, even at the most sobering of moments. When Lizewski thinks he is facing certain death, he reflects on what he will miss in his life, from wondering what his kids will look like to lamenting about never knowing what will happen on Lost.

This film had the potential to be a sociopathic nightmare, full of over-the-top gore and bloodlust, but director Matthew Vaughn pulled it off beautifully. And for those who cry foul at the thought of such a bloody, 11-year-old heroine and potential child role model—dude, the move is rated “R” for a reason.

I was initially nervous that I enjoyed the movie because I had read the comic books beforehand. But during our second stint at the theater we rounded up some folks who had no knowledge of the film, and they ate it up.

Coupled with the scattered cheers and applause that accompanied the viewing throughout its duration, my fears were soothed.

It seems like everyone is having a good time with Kick-Ass.

Annnnd we’re back in the game!

-Liz

Which was my main concern when I picked up The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao by Junot Díaz. There’s only so many different relatives a person can read about before they’re skipping through to the end of the book. But Díaz is a master of his craft. Though this story is not just about Oscar Wao, the stories about his other family members all play into one explanation for why Oscar is the way he is.

And what is Oscar? According to narrator Yunior de las Casas, a boy who dates Oscar’s older sister and becomes inexplicably tied up with in her family’s life, Oscar is the square of all squares. Oscar is an obese nerd who lives for RPGs and writing hundreds of pages of sci-fi novels full of chiseled heroes and galactic battle. He can write and speak Tolkien’s made-up Elvish language, and is constantly making allusions to protagonists from fantasy novels.

Oscar, in addition to holding infinite geekdom, is a Dominican with no game. Which, Yunior insists, is completely unheard of.  No game is an understatement; picture yourself at the height of puberty, burning with a crush on the girl who sits next to you in history class and all you can do is stutter and stare at your shoelaces.

That is Oscar’s love life, perpetually. And try as he might to break out of this cycle of rejection and self-loathing, he never seems to be able to do so.

But readers come to learn that this unfortunate helplessness to change may not be Oscar’s fault. In fact, Oscar’s whole family seems riddled with the worst of luck, a fact that the more superstitious Dominicans attribute to a fukú, or curse, that was put on Oscar’s grandfather and has followed the family from the Dominican Republic to New Jersey.

Readers learn about the life of Oscar’s older sister Lola, and how she must overcome her hatred of her aggressive, browbeating mother to take care of Oscar and persevere with her life. They read about Oscar and Lola’s mother, Belicia Cabral and her rugged childhood in the Dominican Republic from her abusive early years to her growth into a woman under the watchful eye of her aunt during an era of tyranny under the Dominican military dictator Rafael Trujillo.

And Díaz introduces Abelard Cabral, Belicia’s father who dared to hide his daughters from Trujillo’s hungry gaze and kicked off the fukú that ruined his family.

This isn’t just the story of a family’s history. This is a history lesson about an entire country during the era of a brutal dictator. The Dominican Republic spent from 1930 to 1961 under the reign of Rafael Trujillo, a President turned military dictator who was best known, as described by this story, for his numerous spies and his reign of violent killings throughout the nation.

Trujillo’s reign takes a central role in the lives of Belicia and Abelard, and it is through these stories that a reader comes to see the horrors of living under a dictatorship years after Hitler was brought down. Throughout the story Yunior compares Trujillo’s associates with the evil beings associated with Sauron’s reign in The Lord of the Rings.

And through Yunior’s narration his own motives are revealed. How, despite his promiscuous tendencies, he remains in love with Lola for years as Oscar’s life unfolds.  Yunior reaches out to Oscar as a favor to Lola, but even after he has thrown in the towel on trying to salvage her younger brother, his feelings for her never diminish.

Things seem hopeless for young Oscar Wao. But a fukú can always be overcome. And after a trip back to the Dominican Republic Oscar begins to understand that he may need to make his own last stand to finally find love and break his family’s curse.

From the descriptions of life in New Jersey to the intricately crafted expositions of the Dominican Republic over 60 years of change to the biting narration of Yunior complete with nerdy literary references to the completely startling but reticently persuasive idea of a family curse, Diaz has created a novel that will keep you on your toes and rooting for the underdog. But don’t just take my word for it. I mean, he did win the Pulitzer.

–Liz

In the midst of a period where I was listening to singers that ranged from whiny acoustic acts to fringe hard-core bands, my mom was ecstatic when I finally brought home an album she didn’t hate. As this Scottish band sang out silly dance tracks about burning down cities and dancing with boys, I realized I had found a band that was infectious enough to get almost anyone who heard them to dance. And when you’re 16, finding other teenagers who want to dance is a quite a rare thing.

Only one band could have coerced my mom into taking that initial trek into the city, and it was Franz Ferdinand.

And though these Scots may have turned down the nonsense and turned up the dance beats, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand has all the markings of an album that will once again people of all ages and genre-loyalties flocking to the record shops.

Tonight takes this band’s maturity and sticks it in a blender with the youthful swagger of their first album. Though it still has some of the rock-induced flavors of You Could Have It So Much Better, this disc was through and through engineered for the dance floor.

Despite the similar themes of the first and third albums, it’s immediately obvious that Alex Kapranos has grown up. His sexy croon on opening track “Ulysses” is telltale of that. No longer is he singing pop numbers about looking for someone to “Take Me Out.” He wants someone to go home with when the night’s over.

The flirtatious attitude of this band has been magnified and chiseled into a perfect killing strike at any man or woman holding out against the attractions of dance music. Catchy guitar hooks have been replaced with bass and synth-driven riffs that cause involuntarily shoulder and hip swaying. Tracks like “Turn It On” and “Send Him Away” have got a darker attitude and rhythms conducive for movement. These boys are irresistible.

But their juvenile attitude is still present. Lyrics like “I typed your number into my calculator / Where it spelled a dirty word when you turned it upside-down” from “Twilight Omens” break from the club-hunting and take a listener back to middle school romance.

Their clap-along choruses (see “No You Girls”) and the overall simplicity of their lyrics and song structure keep any jaded elements this album could have at bay. This album won’t stimulate you intellectually, but you’ll be too busy containing your feet spasms in front of your roommate to care.

For all the dance numbers on this album, Franz still successfully manages to shake things up. The tail-end of “What She Came For” is a guitar breakdown of the most energetic caliber. The intro to “Can’t Stop Feeling” is a blatant example of hip-hop influences that have seeped into this album. The four minutes of synthesizer and drums at the end of “Lucid Dreams” become reminiscent of an LCD Soundsystem track.

“Dream Again” is by far away the slowest track of the album, a brief ambient number with echoing voices and xylophones creating a captivating dreamscape feel. And closer, “Katherine Kiss Me,” is a quaint little acoustic number (think “Eleanor Put Your Boots On” off You Could Have It So Much Better) that brings an unexpected but not displeasing end to a volume of dance hits. The band’s versatility is here. It’s just stacked on the back half of the album.

If you’re on the prowl for some groovy tunes, Tonight: Franz Ferdinand is hands down the album you are looking for. You’ll have your friends, and maybe even your parents, on their toes in no time.

–Liz