Franz Ferdinand burst on the scene in 2004 with the second single from their self-titled debut.
The meaning of the song has long been debated. Some believe it to be about a sniper that’s about to kill his target while others believe it’s about romantic love.
Whatever it’s about — it’s a great, rocking tune. I love the guitar throughout and the shifts in tempo. The latter is tough to pull off, but the band does it well.
Is it too early to be nostalgic about music from the ’00s?
I heard this song in the car today and I thought it might be the start of a new feature — the quintessential songs of the noughts. Maybe in ten years, some twelve-year-old kid will stumble across this blog and get exposed to some good tunes. Who knows, maybe it will be my boy (who just turned two).
Here are a few fun facts from the song’s wiki page:
The song is known for its underlying riff, which plays throughout most of the song. Although it sounds like a bass guitar (an instrument the group had famously never previously used), the sound is actually created by running Jack White’s semi-acoustic guitar (a 1950s style Kay Hollowbody) through a Digitech Whammy pedal set down an octave. The riff was composed at a sound check before a show at the Corner Hotel in Melbourne, Australia.
According to White, “Seven Nation Army” is what he used to call the Salvation Army as a child.
Italian football fans and ultras picked the song up when Roma played in and against Club Brugge for the UEFA Cup. [8] They often chant the song’s signature guitar riff ever since, most notably during Italy’s campaign in the 2006 FIFA World Cup. About 10 million Italians, all across the nation, were supposedly singing the song during celebrations following the final victory.
A few more tidbits from SongFacts:
This, along with the rest of [Elephant], was recorded on analogue equipment that was over 50 years old at Toe Rag Studios. Toe Rag Studios were set up in Hackney, east London in 1991 as a strictly analogue enterprise using only pre-1960 studio equipment. The success of Elephant established Toe Rag as a trendy antidote to digital music-making.
According to White neither the labels in America or in the UK wanted to put this out as the first single. They eventually relented and it became the White Stripes’ first Hot 100 hit in the US and Top 10 entry in Britain.
Oy, this decade was a mess. The ’90s were easy. Rock had grunge, hip-hop had gangsta rap and a genre-defining electronic album seemed to come out every week thanks to artists like Aphex Twin, the Prodigy and the Orb (just to name a few). There was no Zeitgeist-turning moment in music this decade, no Next Big Thing. Instead, we saw mainstream rock dissolve into a post-grunge funk from which it might never recover, while pop music infiltrated rap music in insulting and embarrassing ways (thanks, Auto-Tune). Meanwhile, both the punk rock kids and hippies discovered electronic music, giving Pitchfork whole new genres of music to build up and tear down.
We’re more fragmented then ever – case in point: of all the albums selected by the writers who’ve contributed to our End of Decade series, only one album has been selected twice – which means that there’s something out there for anyone, but nothing for everyone. It sucks if you like the idea of a rock band being bigger than Jesus, especially if you don’t want that band to be U2. But if you like the idea that at any given moment there’s probably an album being released that will appeal to just you a few thousand other people, then this is a great time to be alive. However, that also means the chances of finding something truly “original” are next to nil. We’re getting to a point where it feels like everything has been done, and everyone is just paying homage, making pastiche or ripping off something that came before.
That being said, there were still a few original albums to make their way to my ears this decade, and almost all of them ended up being my favorites. So while you say this is my “best of” list for the decade, you could also call it my “most original” list as well.
1. Fucked Up: Chemistry of Common Life
Canadian indie rock seemed to be the scene of the ’00s, and while it gave us some good music, most of it bored me. It was just so damn pleasant. And Fucked Up is a lot of things, but pleasant isn’t one of them. In fact, almost everything about them, from their R-rated name to the abrasive vocals of their lead singer (who goes by the name Pink Eyes) almost dares you not to like them. I sure as hell didn’t at first; it seemed like they were trying too hard to be “outrageous.” But when they give you a song as brilliant as “Son the Father” with its goosebump-inducing riff and the best lyric of the decade (“It’s hard enough being born in the first place / Who would ever wanna be born again?”), it’s impossible not to take notice. This is hardcore punk’s Dark Side of the Moon and will probably be just as influential in the years to come.
2. Arcade Fire: Funeral
Okay, so not all of the indie-rock from Canada bored me. I didn’t want to like Arcade Fire, I didn’t want to fall for their melancholy lyrics and haunting melodies, and I didn’t want to be put under enchantment by the haunting closing track “In The Backseat.” It just kind of happened that way. Damn Canadians and their near-perfect records.
3. Hell: Teufelswerk
An as-yet-unheard masterpiece, although there is some hope still since it only came out this year. Teufelswerk picks up where The Orb’s Adventures into the Underworld left off, taking the listener on a journey across two discs that include ambient, house, electro and just about everything else in between. Not made entirely for the dance floor, it’s the kind of electronic album that should have mainstream appeal, even with its 13-minute tracks and bizarre guest appearance roster of Bryan Ferry and Diddy. If you consider yourself a fan of electronic music and you don’t have this album, you’re doing it wrong.
4. At the Drive-In: Relationship of Command
It came out in 2000, and nearly 10 years later there’s still nothing that sounds remotely like it. It’s usually pegged as an emo record, (the first time I heard the word “emo” was in regards to this record) but modern emo has little in common with this masterpiece of tempo changes, passionate vocals and adrenaline-fueled insanity. Too bad the band couldn’t survive much past the album’s release, and the two offshoots they formed after the break-up, the Mars Volta and Sparta, have come close to even matching this record in the years that have followed. Of course, almost no one else has, either.
5. Marnie Stern: This Is It And I Am It…
“This chick is kinda nuts,” said my editor when he pitched this CD to me. I’m naturally attracted to insane women, so that’s partially why I took a shine to Stern so quickly, but it mostly had to do with the fact that I’ve heard nothing like her before. She’s some heavenly combination of Van Halen and Sleater-Kinney, taking guitar virtuosity and mixing it with riot grrl passion to create an entirely one-of-a-kind sound in the process. She’s her own beast, creating her own genre which should just be called “holy shit music,” because that’s all I can think to myself when I hear her.
6. Deltron 3030: Deltron 3030
Indie hip-hop may be easy to find now, but in 2000 there was no scene for that, at least there wasn’t in my consciousness. I still don’t remember how I found this record, which is a crazy concept album about an intergalactic rap battle in the year 3030, but I remember being pleasantly surprised when a year later everyone involved on it (Del Tha Funkee Homosapien, DJ Kid Koala, Dan the Automator and Damon Albarn) went on to form Gorillaz. But this album is still better than anything those animated monkeys put out. It isn’t only the best hip-hop album of the decade, but the most original as well.
7. Mastodon: Leviathan
Prog-rock and heavy metal, two great tastes that taste great together, especially when used to create a concept album based on “Moby Dick.” Mastodon’s early albums showed promise, but this seafaring epic really sealed the deal and heralded their arrival as “the” metal band in 2004. It was also the first album to show me that popular metal was finally getting past that nu-metal BS that nearly ruined the genre at the turn of the millennium. There needs to be more metal based on classic American novels. I’m waiting for a metal interpretation of “The Age of Innocence.”
8. Yeah Yeah Yeahs: It’s Blitz!
The biggest 180 of the decade. Sounding nothing like their previous records, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs didn’t go dance-punk for their third LP, they went full-on dance – like a rocking version of Kylie Minogue. You’re not going to hear a better dance track this year than “Zero,” unless you count all the other up-tempo numbers on this flawless record.
9. Yeah Yeah Yeahs: Fever to Tell
Oh yeah, and their first album wasn’t half bad, either.
10. The Strokes: Is This It?
The poster band and the poster album for the for the poster genre (post-punk revival) that was supposed to become the Next Big Thing. And while that didn’t really happen, we still got some really good records out of it, this one still being the best. And even if you didn’t like it, you have to admit that it probably got a bunch of kids listening to the Stooges for the first time. And the UK version (see photo) had the best album cover of the decade as well.
A lot of music came out this decade, some might say too much. (Definitely too much. -Ed.) Definitely more than any one person could keep track of. So as a public service, in our ongoing series on Music in the 2000s, here are some of the best songs and albums that you most likely haven’t heard (especially if you live in America). Some of these tracks are by established artists that have waned in popularity, so no one took note of their new material no matter how good it was. Others are by up-and-coming young artists, so hopefully they’ll serve as a solid foundation for which to build a solid fan base off of in the future. But sadly the best of the bunch here has since disbanded, so way to go for not discovering them sooner.
10. Oasis: “Falling Down (A Monstrous Psychedelic Bubble Remix)”
Most of latter-day Oasis was okay, but boring. And their last album (if their recent break-up sticks) didn’t really change that. However, this 22-minute remix of that album’s best single was a home run. Done by the guys from the Future Sound Of London, it transforms the simple Brit-pop ditty into a psychedelic freakout of epic proportions. Bring your own acid.
9. Polly Scattergood: “I Hate The Way”
Definitely an artist to watch in the coming decade, Scattergood lived up to her name on her debut, delivering a scattershot collection of piano-based rock that missed the mark as much as it hit it. And nothing on that record fulfilled the promise of this opening number, an seven-minute confessional that tumbles back and forth between “You Oughta Know” anger and “Landslide”-style sadness. If she keeps this up, she could be the next Tori Amos.
8. Division Day: “Ricky”
Beartrap Island was a perfectly fine record with perfectly fine songs. It was also boring as hell. The exception being this pulse-pounding trip into paranoia filled about one hell of a dangerous river (or something, it’s kind of vague). Since Beartrap Island, Division Day has changed their sound dramatically, so they’ll never record a track like this again, which is a shame since it’s what they do best, even if they don’t know it.
7. King Biscuit Time: “I Walk The Earth”
Steve Mason from the Beta Band seemingly had so many great songs in him during first half of this millennium that he released some solo under this awful stage name. The best of the bunch was this beautiful, minimalist track, which also had an awesome video. The Beta Band is gone, but King Biscuit Time remains, and Mason is still releasing amazing music under the moniker, but this track from the rarely heard No Style EP remains the best of the bunch.
6. The Young Knives: “Terra Firma”
Man, British nerd rock is way nerdier than American nerd rock. Check out the chorus for this wacky little number: “Fake rabbit, real snake, terra firma terra firma!” Wait, what? Don’t think about it too much, your head might explode. If you know a TMBG fan and you want to get them into post-punk, this track, and Superabundance, the 2008 album it comes from, is the way to go.
5. Ludo: Broken Bride
Ludo is a band on the rise for sure, and their 2008 album You’re Awful I Love You was one of the smartest pop-punk albums in recent memory (and you can read my interview with lead singer Andrew Volpe here). However, they preceded that record with this infinitely bizarre EP, a rock opera about a time-traveling scientist trying to save the life of his wife who died in a car accident in 1985. Instead his invention takes him to the time of dinosaurs, where he has to fight pterodactyls, and eventually to the Rapture. The subject matter is done dead serious and beautiful, if a little impossible to describe.
4. Tub Ring: “Bite the Wax Tadpole”
Mr. Bungle inspired (and produced) hardcore metal about a guy who dreams about a formula for cold fusion but is disappointed with its texture and flavor. It’s twice as awesome as it sounds. This Chicago-based act opens for Mindless Self Indulgence a lot, but they might even be weirder than that lot. Which is really saying something.
4. Bran Van 3000: Discosis
Best known for their minor-hit “Drinking In LA” from their 1997 debut Glee, Bran Van 3000 (aka BV3) really knocked one out of the park for their 2001 sophomore album. There was the brilliantly funky “Astounded” (which featured an unused Curtis Mayfield vocal), the spacey pop of “Speed” and the crazy two parter “Go Shoppin’/More Shopping,” which featured dub-style rap and Pet Shop Boys-style singing all at once. Unfortunately what they didn’t have was American distribution, since their label, the Beastie Boys’ Grand Royal, folded right before the record was due to be released.
2. Air Traffic: “Charlotte”
Where the hell did this one come from? Air Traffic’s debut album Fractured Life was good but bland, with the sole exception being this brilliant piece of Brit-pop so good that it not only rivals anything Oasis and Blur did this decade, but last decade as well. This was a hit single in the UK, but not nearly as big as it should have been. In America I think it’s a safe bet that next to no one has heard it. Damn shame, since it’s probably one of the 10 best songs of the decade.
1. Vaux: Beyond Virtue, Beyond Vice
One of the greatest musical tragedies of the 20th century so far is that no one has heard of this now-defunct Denver rock band who truly defied all genres with their brilliant (and entirely unheard) second album. The band was signed to Atlantic in 2005, but the label refused to release the album for reasons beyond me (they must not want to be associated with commercially viable rock music with artistic merit). The album sounds like a hardcore version of Muse’s Black Holes and Revelations, which is really amazing when you consider it was complete (if unreleased) a full year before that record.
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