Louisville, Ky. – In the midst of irreversible, foreboding climate catastrophe, it’s kind of nice to have some autumn days that feel more like summer, right? Spooky enough for you?

Fortunately, there were a couple of bombastic acts waiting in the wings of the ballroom. Unbeknownst to the crowd, they were conjuring just the right recipe of jams and positive energy to temporarily mask the taste of turned tuna overwhelming everyone with one iota of reasoning skills in this country. What a horror show!

The opener, Master Peace, strutted all over the eardrums like a stylish siren. It was a raucous roux of hip-hop lyrics and shredding, relentless guitar — like a more serious Flava Flav (but just as fun) rocking out with the languid, lithe love child of David Lee Roth and Slash. Super unique and attractive, specifically brewed to turn all in earshot into the most compliant “woo” girl. These guys were a blast, but they hindered themselves a bit by not having a drummer. They could’ve hit with the weight of a tombstone.

Then came the Franz. Mr. Kapranos swaggered out like a proper rock frontman, immediately foreshadowing the near-hypnotic control he exercised over the crowd. Of an epic performance that included all the hits, placed with stunning precision, I was most zombified by the dichotomy of Kapranos. He swapped from the darkness of Mephistopheles to the pure joy of a toddler at the beginning of a Bluey binge. Of course, the rest of the band frames his energy and amplifies it with their own cool effervescence. “Do You Want To” — present. “Take Me Out” — accounted for. “No You Girls” — bangin’ as ever.

Towards the end of the set, before the encore, the band all gathered around the matriarch of the band for a magical group drum solo, including Tait’s own sick fills. Very few times have I seen a band showcase themselves in such a comprehensive and cutting way.

Nothing else to say but: witch’s kiss!