Tonight Mikaela and I went to Arenan (The Arena) to catch the biggest indie double-header in a long while: Franz Ferdinand, the Blondie-esque pride of Scotland, churning out ultra-catchy melodies, lyrics that have caught Morrissey's fancy and a total of two albums so far ““ featuring the hottest British band in a long time as the heater: The Arctic Monkeys, who are by far the most sought-after band at most English retailer sites, and they've so far released one (1) single.

The audience was young, appx. 20 years of age. Today marks exactly 25 years since Mark Chapman murdered John Lennon. I'm 28 years old. It's interesting how one marks the passage of time.

The Arctic Monkeys didn't seem to care much about time at all, and they actually didn't seem to care. That's not necessarily a bad thing. I prefer a band that dislikes their audience to a one that really tries to cater to everybody's tastes; the latter die and wither, but everybody remembers The Sex Pistols. Everybody remembers Richard III. So, too bad The Monkeys didn't seem like they had their finger on the pulse of the audience. It just seemed they wanted to run through their tracks and get away. “I haven't learned Swedish yet...but I'm a youngster...and I might learn it when I grow up“, their singer said. He didn't say anything else, really, but his voice was in place and the band might grow tight, come their album.

Yeah, tight. Like Franz? After circa 30 minutes of waiting, I started feeling how my body wanted to die and disintegrate. Yesterday morning I started feeling ill, my throat having become a bleak landscape. I just wanted to sip a shot of whisky, which usually helps when I've a sore throat, but that didn't help (when I later sipped it). This morning my body was in a terrible shape, and I had to have a mug of tea before I could speak at all. This was the condition my body was in when we waited and suddenly Franz Ferdinand came on-stage.

People screamed, jumped and great lighting came on, displaying the rectangular aesthetics of the band. They jumped into a new song, kicked into another one after that, and really showed how tight they can be. Today I heard a hidden track off their brand-new double-DVD - "Franz Ferdinand - Live"; it's a cheap recording made of the band playing live at “art school“, where they hit bum notes, the songs leave a bit to wish for, but the general sense of the band is there. Tonight, when hearing them live, the great melodies shone through. On the other hand, another thing that was revealed, was that their former album is better than their latter one.

The back-drop was released and revealed a new one, showing four massive tapestries of the members' faces, white against black. Very effective in the light-show, and when the band played “The Dark of The Matinée“ everybody just went nuts, and I loved it. Even though I've heard that song a brazillion times before it was one of those moments when you hear a beloved song for the umpteenth time and suddenly, the feeling you felt the first time you sensed when falling in love with the song hits you again.

Mikaela and I left the place just as “Walk Away“ came on. I was tired as hell, and now I'm hitting the sack. Tomorrow I'll stay at home and try to get better for the week-end, even though I probably am just going to slug it out with illness.