The Human Fear contains plenty of earworms inspired, frontman Alex Kapranos says, by fear and our reaction to it
Their last Irish show — in Dublin in August 2023 — saw them embark on a greatest hits tour and while they were in sparkling form in Collins Barracks that night, it did feel as though they were already a heritage act paying tribute to their own legacy.
Their most recent album, Always Ascending, made little impact on its 2018 release and it was 2013’s Right Thoughts, Right Words, Right Action when they last caused a frisson of excitement in the studio. Wisely, they’ve reunited with the producer of that album, Mark Ralph, for their new one, The Human Fear, and the result is a short, snappy but, ultimately, uneven collection.
The songs, frontman Alex Kapranos says, are inspired by fear, how it can disable but also be overcome. The self-help notion that fear can be harnessed as a positive is also explored. Consequently, the album is frequently upbeat, many of the songs have a ‘carpe diem’ feel, and it’s all refracted through Franz Ferdinand’s spiky brand of indie and Kapanos’ playful, knowing lyrics.
The band who emerged with the startling potent single Take Me Out and big-selling self-titled album in 2004 has very different personnel today. Only Kapranos and bassist Bob Hardy remain from the original quartet. Their number now includes keyboardist Julian Corrie, guitarist Dino Bardot and, the band’s most recent recruit, drummer Audrey Tait.
Opener Audacious starts off with Franz Ferdinand’s DNA very much intact before dissolving into a catchy Beatles-meets-Britpop number. “There’s no one to save us,” Kapranos sings, “so just carry on.”
Night or Day is similarly earworm-like, with its glam-rock fingerprints recalling the band’s can’t-do-wrong early years. It wouldn’t have been out of place on either of their first couple of albums.
Hooked has a memorably dirty synth line, but the song itself is instantly forgettable — an unfortunate trait that colours a number of other tracks. Bar Lonely, about the pleasures and perils of solo drinking, gallops along but never pulls the listener along. It’s Franz Ferdinand by numbers.
The Human Fear cannot be accused of outstaying its welcome: the 11 tracks breeze by in 35 minutes. And while a fair chunk barely gets out of second gear, there’s still plenty of gold-dust here. The Doctor, a self-referential tune about trucking on in the face of adversity, packs a hell of a lot into its two minute, 20-second run-time.
It will sound ace when they take these songs on the road.
