Field Music - Find A Way To Keep Me

Field Music – Find A Way To Keep Me // Song Review

Find A Way To Keep Me − not to be confused with 2005’s Tell Me Keep Me − is the final bow of Field Music’s excellent album ‘Open Here’, released earlier this month.

It’s the kind of song that deserves to be kept in a velvet box, because you don’t want to ruin its spell by overexposure. Only to take it out on special occasions and feel its magical glow on your face. In the end, I know, I’ll probably have to give in.

Watch Field Music perform Find A Way To Keep Me live at Northern Stage, 3 February 2018 – from 01:56:00 onwards:

Bittersweey sense of joy

I experienced the same protective feeling when I was introduced to the layered symphonic coda of Caravan’s L’Auberge Du Sanglier (1973), which took inspiration from the final minutes of fellow Cantuarians Soft Machine’s Slightly All The Time (1970).  And again when I became enchanted by Snarky Puppy‘s The Clearingrecorded live with the Metropole Orchestra and released in 2015. I’m referring specifically to the ‘camel cadence’ bit that starts around 04:00. Like the sound of a mellotron or a Fender Rhodes, there’s something about those sweeping proggy orchestral arrangements that fills my head with a bittersweet sense of joy.

At the outset, Find A Way To Keep Me could be an Peter Hammill song, dark, restrained, making great use of silence. But then it evolves into a meticulously arranged perpetual motion. An ever-changing cycle of tension and release. All flutes and woodwinds, strings and voices.

Right! Stop that!

Compared to those rich textures, the ending of the song – a deadpan flute flourish and drum thud – radically breaks with what went before. Like an alarm clock that ends an impossible dream. Or Graham Chapman’s colonel, who abruptly terminated Monty Python’s absurdity by declaring: “Right! Stop that! This is getting far too silly.”

Or is the Brewis way of saying: “Now don’t expect our next album to be a triple gatefold symphonic affair, because it won’t.” Anyway, as ever, Field Music chooses to explore epic ideas rather than epic length. It’s that pairing of brevity, audacity and invention that will always leave you wanting for more.

FFS - 'FFS' - 2015 Album Review

‘FFS’ by FFS – Not some kind of monster

Sparks have been going since 1971, Franz Ferdinand surfaced in 2001. Sparks have twenty-two albums under their belt. Franz Ferdinand reached five. Sparks is a duo. Franz Ferdinand is a quartet. And the six of them now form one band, FFS, which just launched a captivating eponymous debut album.

The Franz-Sparks alliance dates back to 2004, when Ferdinand was dominating the airwaves with Take Me Out. The Mael brothers thought it was a cool song and wanted to meet the Glaswegians in their hometown LA. A demo for the song Piss Off stems from that period, but didn’t come to fruition back then. So there it lay … an auspicious ditty, gathering dust. Until the guys bumped into each other in downtown San Francisco.

Franz Ferdinand - Take Me Out

“Take us out, Ron and Russell!” – Franz Ferdinand

Born out of that lucky encounter, ‘FFS’ sounds equally spontaneous. Which is a small miracle, given the fact that it must be extremely hard to drag two seasoned bands away from their routines. The danger of creating some kind of monster is real. Especially when – the initial romance waned – both bands realize that this town ain’t big enough after all.

Dramatic falsetto vs. deadpan delivery

Collaborations Don’t Work – an update of Bohemian Rhapsody? – speaks volumes: sooner or later mutual respect will make way for frustration and envy. A fear brilliantly transmitted by the quarrelling between Russell Mael (S) and Alex Kapranos (FF):

S: I don’t need your patronizing
FF: I don’t need your agonizing
S: I don’t need your navelgazing
FF: I don’t get your way or phrasing

Rest assured: Sparks and Franz Ferdinand did not fall into that trap. Both sporting a very distinctive style, they give each other plenty of room to move and breathe. Indeed, what’s making the FFS sound so potent, is the clash of musical contrasts: Ron Mael’s dramatic piano gestures and orchestral leanings against Franz Ferdinand’s guitar crunch, his brother Russell’s falsetto against Kapranos’ deadpan vocal delivery.

Transatlantic humour

Dictator’s Son sees Ron and Russell hopping over a light melody, while heavy guitars vainly try to tone them down. An abundance of great, subtly incorporated ideas aside, most songs are pretty straightforward. Glued together by transatlantic humour and a mildly sardonic tone – what else did you expect?

Sparks - 'Kimono My House' (1974)

“Kimono our house, Franz” – Sparks

Call Girl revolves around wordplay, while Police Encounters hysterically revolves around the wife of a police officer. The Man Without A Tan is about the threat imposed by an all too popular new kid in town, and Piss Off is a Pythonesque way of saying goodbye.

A nod and a wink

To thicken the intellectually amusing ambience, FFS indulges in clever winks to popular culture and auto-reference. For instance on the Japanese-titled So Desu Ne, which mentions both Hello Kitty and ‘kimono’ – a clear nod to Sparks’ 1974 breakthrough album ‘Kimono My House’ (1974). Indeed, the one that made a lasting impression on a teenage Morrissey.

Driven by tiresome cadences, Save Me From Myself and The Power Couple are slightly less memorable. But overall, ‘FFS’ is a surprisingly coherent album. Hopefully inspiring more bands to put their heads together.