The first thing you, the discerning music listener, need to know: don’t read the fucking papers! Stop. It. Now. Just ignore the press, especially those love-ya-today, hate-ya-tomorrow playas in the UK (note: the accompanying press articles/clippings that comprise the press kit are so nauseating, or shall I say, bloody nauseating). This kind of press only distorts yer opinion (I know you scoundrels! You’ll hate ‘em before you hear ‘em!). And it’s so daft. Remember, “It’s the songs stupid.”

Each and every track doesn’t necessarily push any envelopes, but they are finely crafted: addictive choruses, sexy bridges, and plenty of hooks creep out of the post-post-punk-pop sludge. While the sounds are cut from the same cloth, diversity exists: post-punk swamp blues of “Matinee” and “Cheating On You”, sleazy dissonance of “Jacqueline”, “This Fire” and “Michael”, late-night-cool-cat-groove of “Auf Asche” (check out the Hook-y bass line), 60s-meets-Gang-Of-Four-disco-cum of “Tell Her Tonight”, and angular-indie-pop-dance-punk of “Take Me Out” and “Darts Of Pleasure” (well-chosen singles) proceed to build you up, tear you down, and pummel your senses.

Sure the songs are quality, and the only knock is there isn’t anything new going on. FF reveal the skewed disco sensibility of Gang Of Four, the clenched teeth vocals of early Joy Division, the minimalist hyperactive guitar wankery of Television (more currently, The Strokes), the economy of Guided By Voices, jagged guitar riffs of a million bands … yeah, it’s got a good beat and I can dance to it, I’ll give it a 78. It doesn’t matter, because it works.

Further, FF is not the next big thing to destroy the charts ala Nirvana (yes, those damn critics keep looking for the next Nirvana!). Have you actually listened to Nevermind lately? It’s so, so … 1991. C’mon! Does anyone honestly want another Nirvana? We’ve got a good ten more years before grunge makes it’s come back (sorry Nickel Back, Creed, and Evanescence).

Back to FF: all this chatter about holidays and work and sliding fingernails under the top and bottom buttons of blazers (oh come on! A blazer? Buy me another beer!) and “psychedelic factories” and “fantastic passion” and some dude called Michael and crosshairs – what does it mean? Not real sure, and not sure that it all matters. This is simultaneously rock music and dance music to stir up desperate emotion, seamlessly and cunningly culling the sounds of the past and ripping them up 21st century style. This is where FF succeeds beyond anyone’s expectation.