Art-rock gets a royal reception

Fabulous.

That’s an attention-getting rave that critics should rarely use, but the only misgiving about applying it here is that the exclamation may not be strong enough for a new band as enchanting as Franz Ferdinand.

It was easy to see why there was a sense of celebration surrounding the Scottish quartet’s local debut Friday at the Troubadour. There’s always excitement when a promising new group arrives -- and Ferdinand is about as hot and as hip as you can be at the moment.

The outfit, which puts its own spin on enticing art-rock and new wave strains from the ‘70s and ‘80s, has created such a stir across the Atlantic that powerhouse Epic Records just shelled out big bucks to sign it.

What felt especially good Friday, however, was that there was more enthusiasm for the band after the show than before.

Lots of groups arrive here with promise, but few deliver in a memorable way. One problem is that many hotshot British bands -- from T. Rex in the ‘70s to Oasis in the ‘90s -- come with a chip on their shoulder, resentful that their success back home doesn’t enable them to pass Go and proceed right to the top of the U.S. charts.

But Ferdinand was so warm of spirit at the Troubadour that singer-guitarists Alex Kapranos and especially Nick McCarthy seemed downright cuddly -- which only added to the charm of sometimes witty, yet provocative tales of romantic obsession.

On the group’s self-titled debut album, there is such a sense of melodrama to many of the songs that the whole thing seems a bit of a wink. In “Take Me Out,” a guy is so shattered when he realizes he’s not going to have the girl of his dreams that he asks her to put him out of his misery before she leaves.

On stage Friday, there still is a sly, humorous streak in the songs, but the band (which also includes bassist Bob Hardy and drummer Pat Thomson) plays with such authority and force that you can also get caught up in the pain behind the lyrics.

That’s especially true in “The Dark of the Matinee,” where a lovesick guy talks about planning every journey so he can accidentally bump into the woman he’s after, or “Auf Achse,” where he spells out the frustrations that hound him daily: “You see her / You can’t touch her. / You hear her / You can’t hold her / You want her / You can’t have her.”

This concurrent flow of light and dark emotions allows us to respond in various ways to Ferdinand’s music, depending on our own changing needs. That’s a rare, powerful one-two punch, and it underscores both the ambition and the craft of the band.

In England, Ferdinand’s music has been described as “vaudevillian art-pop,” and the term fits when Kapranos moves about the stage with the stiff, robotic gestures adopted by such theatrical-minded forebears as David Bowie and David Byrne.

Yet there is an intelligence and urgency to the music that makes it all more immediate and human. At its best, Ferdinand combines the whimsical energy of the Hives with the sophisticated quirkiness of the Talking Heads. Musically, the highly danceable sounds convey the slashing precision of another worthy model, Britain’s Gang of Four.

Though Ferdinand has only been available here for a few days, the audience Friday had no trouble recognizing the opening notes of songs and started singing along -- even when some of the lyrics are such a riddle that you don’t really know what you’re singing about. But that’s the nature of how love blinds us.

There’s a lot of escapism in Ferdinand’s music and more than a little paranoia, but the exhilarating and sensual dance-floor swirl hits with the freshness of an ocean wave. Rock has its first great arrival of 2004.