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Franz Ferdinand

Mild May Club, London
Franz Ferdinand, 2004
Getting lucky ... to cap all their other achievements, Franz Ferdinand have now won over John Harris. Photo: PA
Maddy Costa
Fri 17 Dec 2004 07.18 EST

Back when Franz Ferdinand had just released their debut album, the NME ran several stories describing the frenzied scenes outsides tiny venues at which the band, not yet accustomed to popularity, had tried to hold secret gigs. What a difference a year of fame makes. There is no guessing from the tickets for tonight's show - the Guided Missile record label's 10th anniversary party - that the band might be playing. There are no ticketless hoards clamouring to get in. There aren't even that many people on the polished-wood dance floor. Franz Ferdinand, it seems, have learned how to keep a secret.

The Mild May is an immaculately kept working men's club, a sober room newly resplendent in garish Christmas decorations. There's something gloriously incongruous about seeing a band so chiselled in looks and sharp in dress performing before a curtain of multicoloured lametta; it makes Alex Kapranos and Nick McCarthy's repertoire of pointing, stomping, rock star moves look faintly absurd. But they recognise this; it is part of the band's appeal that they should appear so cool and awkward at once.

It's a short set, just 10 songs, three of them new and still ragged. Of these, Well That Was Easy gleams; Bob Hardy's bass rumbles emphatically, while Kapranos and McCarthy's guitars tussle thrillingly. The old songs haven't lost any vigour in the relentless repetition of touring; Michael still jolts and buzzes, and Darts of Pleasure is as electrifying as ever.

But when Kapranos starts singing Jacqueline, his voice weary and wispy, you start to wonder. The house lights are on, and it's impossible not to notice how tired he looks, how drawn. McCarthy's stare, too, seems more glassily vacant than ever. "It's so much better on holiday," Kapranos shoots out, "that's why we only work when we need the money." Has all this become just work, too? But then Kapranos locks eyes cheekily with a girl at the front and you remember; after all those nights of touring, here they are, playing, flirting, performing to a few fans for the love of it. Fame hasn't ruined them yet.