In a world where spectacular debut albums are becoming drearily commonplace it takes a special kind of kick in the bollocks to make you sit up and gawp. This kind of kick should ideally start with a chorus that sets your heart soaring for the sun, a beat that sends your feet into spasms, it should last in the region of thirty-five minutes and it should all be delivered by men in suits.

There are no highlights on this particular spectacular debut because everything is a highlight. Every moment is a carnival of delight, familiar without ever sounding tired, inventive without sounding contrived, the tunes on display here sound like they were snatched out of the air rather than written. It's fortuitous timing to see this release coinciding with The Von Bondies "Pawn Shoppe Heart" because it gives lazy music writers like me the chance to make cheap comparisons and suggest that, for example, the Von Bondies represent a kind of pointless dead end to rock whereas this represents the glorious, glittering future.

This is a British album rather than a specifically Scottish one, eschewing the American rock influences of the 90s generation of Scottish indie in favour of a line stretching back through Blur, Pulp, Super Furry Animals, The Smiths, The Rezillos and Julian Cope. The resemblance to Cope is present most in the Teardrop Explodes style dance-punk rhythm section and singer Alex Kapranos' voice, especially when he slips into his sleazy Scott Walker croon as in the intro to "Jaqueline" or when he starts camping it up in "The Dark Of The Matinee".

Already with a No.3 hit single in the UK, "Franz Ferdinand" are going to be an incredible force worldwide soon. The infectiousness of their tunes and the insistent beat spread through the album ensures that whether you're getting off your head in a club or walking to work with your headphones on, your body can't help but move in time with it and you can't help yourself singing along. Japan tour now please so we can pour more richly deserved praise on these fine young lads. -Ian Martin, Feb.24.04

Franz Ferdinand