Friendly Fires - Burning eyes on the prize (The Independent)

Friendly Fires' album of retro dance-pop is the sleeper on the Mercury judges' shortlist. Fiona Sturges

This year Kasabian, Florence and the Machine and Bat For Lashes are the favourites to walk away with the prize, though of course that is no insurance that any of them will win. More often than not, it's worth looking to the outsiders on the list, those who have been nominated neither through hype nor tokenism but by the sheer uniqueness of their sound.

On this basis, then, let's not overlook the Hertfordshire trio Friendly Fires - who were hugely acclaimed at Glastonbury, T in the Park and others this year - and their self-titled debut, which at the time of writing was way down the bookies' lists at 8-1 but is by some stretch the most interesting prospect on the shortlist. According to their press blurb Friendly Fires are the most critically acclaimed band to have emerged from St Albans – which, let's face it, is no great achievement from a town that has yielded no pop stars of note. Their appearance doesn't promise that much either.

With their shirtsleeves, slacks and sensible shoes, their look is more Reggie Perrin than Razorlight. But anyone who maintains that smarty-pants synth-pop is strictly a female domain clearly is yet to acquaint themselves with this extraordinary threesome whose indie-electro-funk stylings reveal a band expertly riding the zeitgeist while creating their own signature sound.

Friendly Fires are a band born not of industry propaganda but of a burgeoning fan-base gathered through that old- fashioned route to success: touring. Since the beginning of the year, when they appeared alongside Little Boots and fellow Mercury nominees Glasvegas on the NME's annual tour of new artists, Friendly Fires have played sold-out shows as far afield as Mexico, Japan and Germany. They have filled London's Roundhouse, and could have done several times over – 40,000 or so people reportedly tried to buy tickets. And let's not forget their star turn at Glastonbury, a triumphant performance which, through its sheer energy and passion, turned out to be one of their festival's talking points.

Their gigs are typically flamboyant affairs, often accompanied by Brazilian dancers in feathered headdresses, brass and percussion sections and, in Ed Macfarlane, Friendly Fires have a curiously charismatic frontman, a singer whose camp, body-popping stage antics make David Byrne seem graceful.

Friendly Fires' name refers not to war's most notorious oxymoron but to a song by the Factory Records band Section 25, notable for their eclectic and generally uncategorisable sound. Macfarlane and co say that their primary influences are dance-oriented, from the German techno label Kompakt to Chris Clark, the electronic maestro signed to Warp records. But for those old enough to recall early-Eighties pop, one listen to their debut album will leave your head spinning as bands from the era flip through your mind. ABC, XTC, Heaven 17, Thompson Twins, Spandau Ballet and Prince are all there. It's like listening to the Here and Now tour alternately remixed by Aphex Twin and My Bloody Valentine.

Lyrically, Friendly Fires are sparing but effective. Their debut single "Paris" ("One day we're gonna live in Paris, I promise"), recorded on a laptop in Macfarlane's parents' garage, wittily articulates the aspirational pledges made during a drunken night out and then abandoned in the cold light of day, while "Hospital" explores the concept of a love so intense it lands you in casualty. "Jump in the Pool" is an upbeat tale about acting on impulse, augmented by calypso drums, shrouded in shoegazey atmospherics.

But it's "Photobooth" that truly nails their sound. A touching tale of love captured in a passport picture, it's the sound of punk rock, synth-pop and Ibiza-era house locked in a battle for supremacy, and from which all emerge battered but triumphant. It's also the song that cemented Friendly Fires' belief in themselves. They said that after recording it they realised that making music was no longer just a passion, it was a career.

Singer Ed Mcfarlane, drummer Jack Savidge and guitarist Edd Gibson met at the age of 14 at an all-boys public school in St Albans. Before Friendly Fires was born, the trio went by the name of First Day Back, a vocal-less hardcore outfit inspired by Fugazi and whose early gigs extended to friends' birthday parties. A cover of "Born To Be Wild" at a school concert was roundly slated, and prompted the band to rethink their sound.

In late 2007 they were the first unsigned band to appear on the Channel 4 programme Transmission. Early in 2008 the Radio 1 DJ Zane Lowe played their single "Paris", and declared them his new favourite band. Their first proper show took place at the Old Queen's Head in north London, and was attended by a gaggle of A&Rs alerted by the growing radio interest. As it turned out, the gig was a catastrophe. The PA broke, punters left in disgust and the talent scouts wrote the band off. This, Macfarlane has said, was their saving grace, allowing them to hone their craft at their own pace, and without the hindrance of hype.

Released last September, Friendly Fires' debut has proved to be what the record industry calls a slow-burner; despite having only grazed the Top 30 it has now been certified silver. TV and advertising types have leapt on the trio's capacity for a pop hook, their songs having appeared on the US series Gossip Girl and on an advert for Nintendo's Wii Fit.

You won't find another band like them. If they win the prize in September, it will be a deserved triumph for the outsider and the innovator. If they don't, well, it will still provide a valuable boost to their career. Either way, they really can't lose.

'Friendly Fires' is on XL Recordings - Live @ Buenos Aires, 19/08, La Trastienda

Friendly Fires: 'We had two good songs, no fans and the PA broke - but now look at us' (The Guardian)

Friendly Fires - Live @ Buenos Aires - 19 Agosto - La Trastienda

Finally they're the band of the summer. So why did Friendly Fires take so long to get going, asks Ally Carnwath

Jack Savidge, drummer with electro-funk trio Friendly Fires, is thoroughly satisfied with his afternoon's shopping. "I've got a new pair of pants," he says triumphantly. "I've got a new toothbrush and toothpaste and socks. It'll certainly make up for the fact that I've only got one pair of trousers for the next five days."

The group had assumed they would get a day's respite from their touring schedule to head home and do their laundry. No such luck: following the evening's gig at a sold-out Roundhouse in north London, they were due to drive overnight to Belgium and then on to Switzerland, an itinerary that at the very least necessitates a washbag and a change of underwear.

Ask the trio of affable 25-year-olds what it's like to be in one of the most exciting and critically feted British bands of the past year, and these are the type of observations you get. Hailing from St Albans, where they met as teenagers at the city's all boys public school, they are far too middle class and self-deprecating to indulge in self-aggrandisement. Instead, there's a stream of amiable banter and studenty humour - routines honed over more than 10 years of friendship.

Since the start of the year, when the trio appeared alongside Glasvegas and Little Boots on NME's annual tour of tipped new artists, their schedule has felt like some particularly masochistic homage to Phileas Fogg. They have played throughout America and Europe, returned to Britain for a headline tour and have trips to Australia and South America coming up.

All of this is designed to capitalise on the slow-burning success of their brilliant self-titled debut. It reached number 38 when first released last September but, 10 months later, has attached itself, limpet-like, to the upper reaches of the album charts and there's been a corresponding swell in the number of people shouting back the lyrics every night.

The band had visions of their concert in Mexico being attended by a small group of bored-looking Latin-American Anglophiles. But "it was the loudest crowd noise we'd ever had. We had to be taken through the crowd by bouncers," remembers singer and chief songwriter Ed MacFarlane. Forty thousand people attempted to buy tickets for their gig at the Roundhouse. "When I heard that I was like, 'Fucking hell, that's ridiculous,'" he says. "It feels like people are starting to give a shit about us and that this is our time."

And last month, they played to an audience of more than 35,000 fans at Glastonbury, a performance that put them up with Blur's return and Lady Gaga's fire-spitting boobs as one of the weekend's main talking points. Just before their mid-afternoon set, their record company had had to abandon its plan to release a cascade of balloons during the chorus to their best-known single, "Paris", but the natural buoyancy of their anthems was enough to send the crowd into fist-pumping ecstasies. And like the consummate crowd-pleasers the band are, they even managed to bring the sun out.

It's a far cry from their early days, playing at birthday parties in St Albans for their teenage friends. The trio's original incarnation, First Day Back, specialised in earnest instrumental rock and covers of jockish nu-metal bands. "It was a broad church," observes guitarist Edd Gibson wryly.

But they survived beyond the life span of most adolescent groups, reconvened after university, and by the time of their first gig as Friendly Fires - at the Old Queen's Head in north London in September 2006 - had even developed a minor industry buzz of the sort that can beef up and then swiftly kill off a fledgling band.

They stifled that through the clever expedient of giving a lousy performance. "Half the PA broke, we only had about two good songs and we didn't have any fans; it was just A&R people jotting notes," remembers Ed. They returned to St Albans, no longer flavour of the month but with the time and space to develop their sound. They are now reaping the benefits.

"We've been able to do things at our own pace and make an album we are content and happy with," says Ed. "We have been playing the record for two years and if we weren't happy with it, we'd be a lot more insane than we are now."

Having taken several years to emerge and the best part of a year to take off commercially, it's an album that, in many ways, has peaked at the right time. Its intuitive grasp of itchy art-funk, electronic euphoria and stadium anthems - a sound described by one critic as "sophisticated but unashamed pop music" - make it the perfect distillation of the year's prevailing musical trends. That defining Glastonbury performance has brought them more attention and this week the shortlist for the annual Mercury Music Prize is announced, with the band widely expected to make the cut. How do they feel about that?

Ed is diplomatic: "I think it would be great if we were nominated and to win it would be fucking amazing but I'm not going to say I'll be disappointed if we don't." Jack is cheerily fatalistic: "We've had people talking to us about it, which instantly jinxes it. We are definitely not going to get nominated now." And Edd is philosophical: "We were nominated for the South Bank Show Breakthrough award and we got beaten by this guy who choreographed a Kylie video so we're used to rejection."

But happy as they are to pay lip service to the honour of a possible shortlist place, the band give the impression of having other things on their minds. All three are keen to start working on songs for the new album.

"We have sketches but I don't want to start writing the music on a laptop on the tour bus because it's going to sound like this totally inorganic, computerised mess," says Ed. "As much as I love touring, there are two sides to being in the band.

And Edd is obsessing slightly over their September homecoming gig, at the unlikely sounding Alban Arena. It's not so much the prospect of playing to a venue full of people he grew up with that worries him, more a fear that the band may not live up to the venue's illustrious heritage.

"I've seen Sooty there, I've seen Paul Merton, I've seen The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," he says, brow wrinkled with concern. "I mean, Sooty. A puppet. How do you follow in the footsteps of someone with no feet?"

Nuevos shows en Buenos Aires

Seguro que lo sabe ya medio mundo: es que me entero tarde de todo...

Kassin + 2 - Niceto - 8 de agosto
Aimee Mann - Gran Rex - 13 de agosto
Friendly Fires - La Trastienda - 19 de agosto
Tricky - Teatro Colegiales - 21 de agosto