Futureheads

Awrite, Alex Kapranos frae Franz Ferdinand here. Since ye can’t gie pest one article abit our friends an’ occasional toormates frae th’ U.K., The Futureheads, withit some loon “joornalist” comparin’ or relatin’ them tae mah bain, Franz Ferdinand, ah thoot I’d jist sae ‘a fook th’ trooble an’ shaw up myself tae testify as tae hoo good they are. Now, back in th’ U.K., fowk hae taken tae callin’ them “the Clam” coz they think they soond loch a cross atween The Clash an’ The Jam. Me, ah think they soond loch a cross atween Wire an’ XTC, but ye can’t make a bonnie amalgam ootta ‘at; ye end up wi’ WireTC ur XTwire. Ye shoods see the ones we gie — Gang of Pulp, Fall Division — bah, it’s aw naf, ah teel ye. Anyhaw, ye shoods gae ‘n see The Futureheads coz they’re wonderful blokes, they swatch sharp, they’ll make ye jink, an’ they div a stoatin’ cover ay Kate Bush’s “Hoonds of Love.” Cheerio th’ noo!