October 4th 1975

“Work, as usual, a grin. Played Love is the Drug (new Roxy Single) 17 times and bought it. Holly came around in evening”

Since I last wrote about Roxy Music, they lost one of their major band members (Brian Eno – whatever happened to him eh?) and released a surprisingly top notch post-Eno album entitled “Stranded”

Their sound became a little more ‘traditional’, but thanks to some superior songwriting succeeded in maintaining their credibility. (As soon as Bryan Ferry discovered a need to appeal more to a ‘coffee table’ mentality, the group went completely tits-up IMHO).

“Love is the Drug” was the single that took them from being a fringe pop act to genuine superstar status. It gave them their first real exposure in the USA (the single reaching #30 on the Billboard charts) and cemented their appeal to the rest of the world.

It’s such a jaunty ‘strutting’ song – no wonder I could play it umpteen times in a row without tiring of it?! – which (trivia fans, take note) contains an early example of sampling. The now-familiar footsteps on gravel at the beginning were allegedly nicked from the opening segment of Steven Spielberg’s made-for-TV movie “Duel” where Dennis Weaver’s character walks from his home to his car (The prelude to an exciting chase movie which kickstarted Spielberg’s not inconsiderable career!)

I think “Love is the drug and I need to score” may be one of my very favourite lyrics of all time, although “Dim the lights, you can guess the rest” comes a close second, especially given how Ferry sings the latter with a real filthy smirk in his voice.

In case you can’t remember what it sounds like (or maybe had forgotten Ferry’s “American GI with fake eye patch” fashion faux-pas)…

Every so often I have to stand back from everything that went on in my music retailing career and respect the fact that on many MANY occasions I was responsible for turning the public onto slices of (what subsequently became)  real music history. Today in 1975 was one such time – helping sustain the pop enigma of a band who remain one of Britain’s very finest and most creative … well for those first 4 albums at least.

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January 1st 1975

nothing

Oh good start there Mr Diarist!

You come here expecting all kinds of rebellious teenage hanky-panky to kickstart 1975 and what do you get?

Nothing.

As Bryan Ferry once crooned…. “Let’s see what tomorrow might bring….”

(1974 Albums) Various Taped Recordings

I have reported in some detail all the records I bought during 1974.

The back pages of the diary also shows a selection of taped recordings I owned – many of which have already been discussed in my 1972 and 1973 entries.

However, there is a tiny handful of other albums I apparently recorded to C-90’s in 1974 that certainly seem worthy of a mention or two….

• Clouds – Scrapbooking
Clouds were a Scottish Prog Rock band, unique in not having a lead guitarist amongst its line-up. They signed to Chrysalis Management around the same time as Jethro Tull but never enjoyed the support or public acclaim that Ian Anderson’s one-legged flute antics nurtured.

“The Clouds Scrapbook” was a concept album marketed as being some kind of a companion piece to The Beatles’ “Sgt Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band”. I think we all know how that marketing idea went?

I’m pretty certain I borrowed this album from Tim B who I worked with at Lancaster & Crook. Years later I believe I also bought the LP for 69p from Woolworth’s clearance racks. I never hung onto it and would/could not recognise one single track from it these days.

• Leo Sayer – Silverbird
Leo Sayer’s first claim to pop fame was as co-writer of Roger Daltrey’s debut solo single, “Giving It All Away“.

His own career was launched by 60’s pop idol turned actor, Adam Faith. Sayer’s second single “The Show Must Go On” – which Leo performed (strangely) in a Pierrot clown costume – reached Number 2 on the UK chart, a feat which then kickstarted a run of no less than seven consecutive Top 10 singles, including the worldwide #1 smash “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing”

“Silverbird” was his debut album and it reached Number 2 on the UK Album Chart. It remains a fixture in my collection and a track or two occasionally pops up on shuffle. The songs are a little bit dated but still well composed and performed. “Oh Wot a Life” is a favourite of mine.

Two bits of Leo Sayer trivia… The first is that Leo now lives in Australia and became a fully fledged Australian citizen in 2009. The second is that “Leo Sayer” is cockney rhyming slang for “all dayer”… an all day drinking session. No wonder he feels like dancing!

• Alan Hull – Pipedream
Straight off the bat I will state that “Pipedream” remains one of my favourite albums of all time.

Alan Hull was a member of Newcastle-based folk rock band Lindisfarne who, in the early seventies, enjoyed a run of singalong hits including “Lady Eleanor“, “Meet Me on the Corner” and “Fog on the Tyne”

Ructions amongst the band around 1973 resulted in the band breaking up. Three members went off to form Jack the Lad, whilst Alan Hull recorded and released “Pipedream” before eventually agreeing to be part of an “all-new” Lindisfarne. (It didn’t last long, he disbanded the group again in 1975)

“Pipedream” is an album chock-full of lovely gentle little songs all featuring Hull’s pretty unique and pleasing vocal style. Personally, I don’t think there is a bad tune on it and I recommend it wholeheartedly to anyone who likes singer/songwriters. I think my favourites are “I Hate to See you Cry“, “Justanothersadsong”, “Country Gentleman’s Wife” and the opener, “Breakfast”

Hull died suddenly at the age of just 50 – of a heart thrombosis – in 1995. A real loss to the musical firmament.

Funnily enough, as much I like this album I have never even been vaguely tempted to investigate his other solo work. Perhaps it’s about time I did?

• Yes – The Yes Album
Although “Fragile” will always remain my favourite Yes album, I’ll admit that (and despite the whole ELP vs Yes rivalry that existed back then) I have also frequently dabbled in their others… “The Yes Album” being a case in point.

For a start it kicks off with “Yours Is No Disgrace“, perhaps one of the best prog-rock album openings of all time. I love the way the Hammond slips in round the back of the drum and guitar intro… it almost gives me goosebumps.

Then there’s the almost hillbilly-esque Steve Howe guitar solo “Clap“, and I suppose “Starship Trooper” can’t be considered too shabby can it?.. even if I personally feel it’s a little too rambling for its own good.

Side Two offers the earworm of “I’ve Seen All Good People” and… well, precious little else as far as I am concerned.  (I’m sure there will be die-hard Yes fans who will disagree with me.)

I’ve never actually owned “The Yes Album” on any format (other than the recording I made in 1974… that counts, right?) although when my wife and I merged our transatlantic CD collections I was happy to see it amongst hers and duly ripped the songs mentioned above across to my i-tunes

• Bryan Ferry – These Foolish Things
If we ever wanted to know what kind of singing route Bryan Ferry – and thus Roxy Music – would eventually take, we only have to listen to this 1973 solo album of ‘classic standards’ crooned by the man himself.

It’s as eclectic a choice as it is good. There are certain songs that I heard for the very first time when Ferry sang them (“It’s my Party“, “Don’t Ever Change”, “Loving You is Sweeter than Ever” & “River of Salt”) whilst there are others (“Sympathy for the Devil“, “Don’t Worry Baby” & “Piece of my Heart“) which I actually prefer over the originals!

His cover of Dylan’s “A Hard Rain’s a-Gonna Fall” was and remains peculiar, whilst the magnificently crooned title track, “These Foolish Things“, cemented Ferry’s by-then reputation as a “lounge lizard”

What’s amazing about this album is that the concept – covering old standards – is as succesful today as it was in 1974. Hell, Rod Stewart’s entire post 1999 career has been founded on doing just that with, and I hope Rod won’t mind saying this, pretty lacklustre results.

Do I still like this album? Yes I do. My caveat is that I think Ferry honed the idea to perfection with the second set of solo covers, “Another Time, Another Place” a year later… an album which I am sure will turn up amongst these diary pages in due course.

January 7th 1974

“Berfday. Got lamp, pygamas, £2 from Mormor – bought Stranded – Roxy – Smart!”

So the wild and crazy out-of-control teenager turns 16 and celebrates with … erm… some pyjamas (mis-spelled), a lamp (a lamp??) and a couple of quid from his Danish grandmother.

However, it seems like I made up for it a little later in the day, treating myself to the merest glimpse of Marilyn Cole’s nipples….erm, I mean Roxy Music’s third album, Stranded

Stranded was the group’s first album without Brian Eno, he and Bryan Ferry having fallen out over who was really ‘leading’ the band. With all due respect to Eno, I do feel as though the ‘better man won’ in that regard. Ferry is a stylish crooner in comparison to Brian’s somewhat grotesque “Addams Family” appearance and thin vocals.

(In time, Eno would turn out to be a MUCH bigger hero of mine than Ferry, but we’ll save my feelings on that until reference to him appears in my diary pages)

To enter the grooves of  Stranded one must first get by the striking cover art. Another Anthony Price photo shoot, another superb piece of glamorous titillation. Despite coming from Portsmouth in England, model Marilyn Cole grew up to be a very attractive woman indeed. She was Playboy’s Playmate of the Month in January 1972 (indeed, hers was the first full frontal centrespread to appear in the magazine) as well as Playmate of the Year in 1973.

Although dating Bryan Ferry at the time of the photo shoot (but not by the time of the album’s release), it is alleged she was *ahem* actively pursued by Playboy boss Hugh Hefner but ended up marrying the then head of the organisation’s London operations (and renowned playboy in his own right) Victor Lownes.

 

Lucky blighter that Victor!

No Eno. Jobson!

Back to the album itself, which kicks off with “Street Life“, the only cut released as a single (reaching #9 on the UK Singles chart in November 1973). Moody atmospheric electronics start the track off, before it kicks into overdrive, and you’d be forgiven for thinking the “ghost of Eno” was still amongst the group. His place in the group had been taken by Eddie Jobson, a multi-instrumentalist previously with the band Curved Air. Whilst Jobson’s keyboard noodlings were never as innovative as Eno’s, his contribution to Roxy Music really came to the fore with his ability to play the violin, musically adding a ….erm… whole new string to Ferry’s bow.

“Street Life” is a real swaying cruncher of a song, despite only really having one chorus in the middle, and features Ferry almost growling out his thinly veiled allegorical lyrics. His attack on the media (in light of his new found fame and predilection for stunning female companionship) is palpable:
“Hey good-looking boys – gather around
The sidewalk papers gutter-press you down
All those lies can be so unkind,
They can make you feel like you’re losing your mind”

It’s a pop song which I feel has fully stood the test of time. Conversely, it’s really the only cut on Stranded which harked back to their previous two albums. I’ll admit that personally I think Roxy Music were a much more interesting act with Eno in the line up. It may be because Brian often managed to quell some of Ferry’s predeliction to overt romanticism, or at least disguise it somehow. On “Stranded” however, Ferry was holding on to the reins all by himself… and did a bloody good job!

Personally I’ve always been of the opinion that the rest of this album and the next two albums (“Country Life” & “Siren”) almost represented a kind of “Roxy Music Mk II”.

As if to prove my point – and to prove that Roxy Mk II could be every bit as good as Mk I – “Just Like You” is the next track. This song never fails to move me. It luxuriates in its own languid gorgeousness, Ferry’s crooning beyond reproach. The lyrics are a little bit “moon in june”-ish but he believes every single line and sings them with such conviction its impossible to criticise.

Just when Ferry has lulled you into a soporific state of mind, along comes the somewhat bizarre “Amazona“. It goes off on so many tangents, lilting and tilting here there and everywhere before almost settling on a driving rhythm at the 3-minute mark, then scaring you again with the world highest-pitched guitar solo from co-writer Phil Manzanera. An odd song, but a brilliant one.

“Psalm“, closing Side 1 is alleged to be the first song Ferry ever wrote for Roxy Music back in the band’s formative stage. It starts with what sounds like a church organ overlaid with Ferry’s vocals. Slowly, drums, guitar, oboe, violin and a (real? electronic?) choir all contribute to what appears to be some kind of tribute to a multitude of different religions. The song is written – and Ferry sings it – in such a manner that it sounds like a traditional composition from the 40’s or 50’s (surely his intent?), his voice now starting to more regularly display that strange vibrato he does so well.

Side 2 opener is “Serenade“, probably my least favourite cut of the eight. The rhythm feels all wrong to me – always has – and I think the guitar solo halfway through is the only thing that vaguely redeems it.

Where “Serenade” fails, the next two cuts more than make up. “A Song for Europe” is, quite simply, a majestic work of art. Ferry’s immaculate phrasing underscored perfectly by the accompanying musicianship. The simple bass riff at the 3:24 minute mark sets up Mackay’s sax which then does battle with Ferry singing in a variety of tongues – I think it’s Latin, French and Italian? Somewhat weirdly, I often find myself muttering Ferry’s (somewhat awful) pun halfway through the number, where he alludes to Venice with “and the bridge… it sighs”

If that wasn’t enough, it’s followed by “Mother of Pearl” one of my favourite ever ‘corkers’ by Roxy Music, indeed it would almost certainly be one of my ‘Desert Island Discs‘ if I were ever invited on to the programme. Ferry’s lyrics are 100% top notch from start to finish, even if I’ve never really been certain what he’s banging on about. For me it’s just one of those songs that sounds right, if that makes sense?

“Sunset” closes an almost perfect album, perfectly. It’s an ode to death, but it could just as easily be referring to the end of a lovely summer’s day. One word: GORGEOUS!

Is “Stranded” Roxy’s best album? Depends who you talk to. For me, it’s certainly the best of their output from this era, although there are cuts from both “For Your Pleasure” and “Country Life” I wish were on it too, just to selfishly make it 100% perfect.

I do think that, in 1974, I was in a weird minority of music fans. I knew lots of people at school who liked Emerson, Lake & Palmer or Roxy Music, but rarely both. It was almost as if everybody had to fit into one camp or the other. Likewise there seemed to be ‘rivalry’ between ELP and Yes fans, T.Rex & Slade fans, even Roxy Music and Bowie fans.

Me? I was just into it all.

May 17th 1973

“Borrowed Imagine off of Gina K – Quite good really”

Would it be sacrilegious of me to state that, over the years, my opinion of John Lennon’s second solo album, Imagine, has altered dramatically?

Instead of “quite good” I now react to hearing cuts from this album with a series of customary swear words.

Especially that bloody title track. Even despite it representing some kind of musical “standard” for (unattainable) world peace. In 1973 I may have liked it because I knew no better, but in the interim it has evolved – for me personally – into a dreadfully maudlin and tuneless piece of work.

Maybe my distaste is as a result of simply OVER-hearing it since its release in 1971? It was of course dredged to the max when John was shot down outside his NY apartment in 1980, and has featured in every single Lennon tribute since. It also seems as if a documentary maker cannot produce something about Lennon without resorting to using this damn song?!

The rest of the album does not improve things for me, save (but only barely) the three stabs Lennon makes at real retro rock’n’roll with “Gimme Some Truth“, “Crippled Inside” and “It’s So Hard”

“Jealous Guy” may well have stood the test of time and turned itself into another ‘classic’, but I’m afraid I always equate the song with Bryan Ferry’s AWFUL cash-in version, released just a month or two after Lennon was gunned down. It signalled the end of my ongoing love affair with Roxy Music.

“I Don’t Want to be a Soldier” is a sloppy cacophony (as if, somehow he didn’t care what it sounded like)

“Oh My Love” and “How?” are somnambulistic bore fests, whilst “How Do You Sleep?” (Lennon thinly veiled attack on Paul McCartney) shows itself as no more than angry nonsense.

The least said about “Oh Yoko” the better. I think the whole world knew you loved her John, no need to rub it in.

I wonder if any of my readers also despise any supposed “classic albums”?

April 14th 1973

“Work all day. Broke bottles. Went up Nigs in evng – listened to For Your Pleasure – Brilliant!”

Broke bottles? What does that mean? Does it mean that I maybe knocked some bottles off a shelf and broke them, or did my work today involve breaking down bottles, maybe to recycle them? (Unlikely it’s the latter as the concept of recycling didn’t really exist in 1973 – which, retrospectively, is obviously a crying shame)

So, tonight I heard Roxy Music‘s “For Your Pleasure” for the first time eh?

Remember me saying how Roxy’s debut album felt like nothing I’d ever heard before? The band’s second album did just that all over again. It even felt a departure from their first album without actually losing that intrinsic (certainly in the 70’s) Roxy ‘sound’

It’s almost impossible to start discussing this album without first commenting on the album sleeve. Like the band’s debut this was a glossy gatefold affair, the front a stylish shot (by photographer Karl Stoecker) of fashion model Amanda Lear. She is dressed in a tight black leather outfit, complete with stilleto heels and a pill box hat, and appears to be (for whatever reason) taking a black leopard for a walk along a rain-drenched urban street.

Folding out the sleeve reveals the picture continues across the back cover, where we see a waiting limo (I always used to think the limo’s interior would get really ruined if that leopard was allowed in it!).

For me, the sleeve’s stylish attitude feels somewhat undermined when you look at the limo driver, stood in the car’s doorway staring at Amanda with a smirk on his face. It’s none other than Bryan Ferry himself, doubtless grinning at all his fans because – at the time – he was dating her in real life. (Since this photo was taken of course, Ferry’s love life has become the subject of many a tabloid rumour)

When you opened up the sleeve, you saw this….

Do they look like bonafide pop stars or what? Nig, Mal and I investigated every little detail of this photo… from the fact that three of the band appear to be left-handed, via Brian Eno’s ludicrous ostrich feathers and all the way to Andy MacKay’s shiny silver pumps.

If the sleeve didn’t draw you in, then the musical contents did.

Opening with a flourish, “Do the Strand” (a hit single in its own right… but not until 1978!) sets the tone of this album immediately.
“There’s a new Sensation,
A fabulous creation,
A danceable solution
To teenage revolution”
is a killer collection of lyrics IMHO. It doesn’t let up either, as Ferry tries to persuade the entire world to to give up the ‘old’ dance crazes (“Tired of the tango, fed up with fandango“) and instead opt for “Strand Power” (or if you’re Russian, “the Strandsky“). That opening piano riff is as timeless now as it was exciting and original in 1973.

Vibrato piano and Ferry’s mangled vocal style both run right through “Beauty Queen“, the lyrics of which allegedly refer to one of the singer’s ex-girlfriends, Valerie Leon, a movie & TV actress who, like Ferry, was born in Newcastle.

(That’s “Carry On” star, Bond ‘chick’  – OK, and the Hai Karate Girl – Ms. Leon over on the right in that early promotional photo…. maybe pre-empting the “For Your Pleasure” cover by a few years?)

“Strictly Confidential” finds a very mournful Ferry penning a pre-death letter to a long-lost lover. It’s almost deliberately dirge-like in its construction, Ferry’s vocals stretched, strained and pained. MacKay’s oboe punctures the gloom, as does Paul Thompson’s light staccato drumming. The only real upbeat moment of the piece comes right at the end with the lyric “There is no light here, is there no key? “, which presumably marks the passing of the song’s doom-laden protagonist.

“Editions of You” should have been a single in its own right. It’s such an infectious heavy rock’n’roll song, riddled with catchphrase lyrics and some damn fine solo work from all the members of the band. MacKay, especially, gives a virtuoso sax performance, whilst Eno suitably hams it up on his ‘electronics’.

For most people, the mind-blowing “In Every Dream Home a Heartache” – which closes Side 1 – is perhaps archetypal seventies Roxy.

The first time I heard this song – even before I realised what it was about – I was in awe of the way it just sounded. Then when you get into the lyrical content – a blow-up sex doll – it takes on a whole new meaning. The song’s real panache is the break at around the three-minute mark. It stops being what is essentially a spoken word piece and – with Ferry’s eerie “but you blew my mind” lyric – descends into pure theatrical rock & roll with all the band’s instruments vying for attention. If anything, this cut was a pre-cursor to the material Brian Eno gave the world when he went solo. Structured, but strangely unstructured all at the same time. Yes, that may not make sense to anyone but me!

(Please be warned that later/live versions of “In Every Dream Home a Heartache” very much pale into insignificance compared to the album original)

Side 2 of “For Your Pleasure” features just three cuts.

The opener is a 9+ minute sheer magnificence of a song.

“The Bogus Man” stutters and shudders its way through a child’s scary nightmare. Its repetitive structure with the thrown-in clicks and noises now feels similar – to me – to material found much later on David Bowie’s “Low“… an album produced by Brian Eno.

Indeed, when “For Your Pleasure” was released Eno stated that he thought “The Bogus Man” reminded him of music by famed electronic krautrock pioneers Can. At the time I would not have known what the hell he was talking about. It would be a few years yet before I could personally appreciate the electronic noodlings of bands such as Can, Neu!, Faust and Kraftwerk.

The Bogus Man ends with Ferry giving a great big sigh before he goes straight into “Grey Lagoons” which initially presents itself as an atypical good-time rock ballad, complete with vintage-sounding sax work, guitar riffing and some oh-so-tight drumming. Then – like other songs on the album – it seems to kick it up a notch and becomes a different kind of beast, drenched in electronically-generated sounds before resorting, once again, to a feeling of “normality”

The album’s title track closes proceedings. “For Your Pleasure“, despite being written by Bryan Ferry, feels very much like an Eno track from start to finish.

The electronic interludes, the drifting drum sounds, the multi-tracked background (“ta-ra”) vocals and the enhanced piano are all elements Eno would keep coming back to in his later solo work.

I’ll always remember that the distorted end of the cut played havoc with bass speakers everywhere – their inability to deal with the sonics only adding to the distortion.

Trivia buffs may like to know that the female voice muttering “don’t ask why” just before the fade out is none other than Dame Judi Dench!

As regular readers will respect, there are few things I truly, truly remember from these early 70’s. Listening to “For Your Pleasure” for the first time however IS something I can recall.

Maybe it’s because I felt more connected to the band having seen them just a few nights earlier, but I’d rather believe it’s because the album impressed me so immediately and so positively. I remember Nig, Mal & me listening to it over and over – and over – again. I remember loving “Do the Strand” with its clever lyrics, I remember hearing that break in “In Every Home…” for the first time just as much as the human sigh at the finish of “The Bogus Man”.

I remember us looking diligently at the sleeve wondering if the band looked cool or not, eventually deciding “yes, cool”. I remember wanting fancy gold boots like Ferry’s and a white jumpsuit like Mackay’s. Most of all I remember wanting to own the album myself. How long would it take me?!

The thing is – this was just the first of two Roxy Music albums released in 1973. 

Although “For Your Pleasure” was the final album to feature the considerable talents of Brian Eno, it would be the third album – Stranded – that would always prove to be my absolute Roxy favourite… but more about that when it comes out eh?!

I’ll say the same as I said about the debut album; that Roxy Music seemed just so very different to us at the time. So unique. Sure they wore their pop sensibilities on their collective sleeves, but they seemed to wear them almost as an excuse for something that was much more interesting and important. Especially – but not limited to – when Eno was with the band.

In retrospect I always feel it a bit of shame that they got pigeonholed along with the multitude of “glam rock” acts that were emerging around this time. OK, so the clothes the band wore didn’t help matters in that regard, but I always felt they were several miles above the rest (Bowie excluded) in terms of talent and originality.

To paraphrase a remark from a book I am currently reading (about Captain Beefheart) ‘they’ say that whilst most of the time you find the music you want, every so often the music you want finds you. In 1973, I truly believe that Roxy Music found me.

April 4th 1973

“ARGUMENT! (smashing of the plate)” / “Got card from Gra” / “Roxy on TOTPs” / “Paid Trev for ISOS”

Oh dear – it would appear that one of the arguments took a worrying turn, with crockery being thrown? *sigh* I can’t remember this altercation – probably for the best I guess? – but it has got to me some 36 years later and made me feel – once again – incredibly sad that my folks seemed to spend so much of their lives arguing and shouting.

I think I remarked before that Graham traveled the world with his father, so I’ll guess I got a postcard from some exotic foreign clime.

The Roxy Music performance on Top of the Pops (TOTPs) would have been their second hit single Pyjamarama, which – sonically – was so very much ahead of its time.

Opening with a single guitar riff, followed by what is almost a drum solo, the song suddenly falls into a sax’n’electronics groove overlaid by Bryan Ferry’s voice crooning for all its worth. At the time, I remember thinking it was nowhere near as good as their debut hit “Virginia Plain”, but as the years have gone by I think I now actually prefer it, because its just so odd and groovily funky.

There appears to be no footage of Roxy’s performance on Top of the Pops, so I give you this OK montage instead….

I do think that Pyjamarama had some of the cutest lyrics…

Couldn’t sleep a wink last night
Oh how I’d love to hold you tight
They say you have a secret life
Made sacrifice your key to paradise
Never mind, take the world by storm
Just boogaloo a rhapsody divine
Take a sweet girl just like you
How nice if only we could bill and coo
I may seem a fool to you for ev’rything I say or think or do
How could I apologise for all those lies
The world may keeps us far apart but up in heaven, angel
You can have my heart
Diamonds may be your best friend
But like laughter after tears
I’ll follow you to the end
(© B.Ferry 1973)

January 28th 1973

“Dave came up in the morning and borrowed Pictures and lent me Roxy Music”

I was almost dreading the debut mention of Roxy Music in this blog.

Why? Because it is extremely difficult to explain the impact that the band – and their style – had on this particular teenager. It’s also difficult to explain to an audience now wholly familiar with their sound just HOW radically different they appeared to be in 1973.

Vocalist Bryan Ferry – originally a ceramics teacher from Newcastle – formed Roxy Music in November 1970. This was a few months after he had failed to secure the spot as King Crimson‘s new lead singer following the departure of Greg Lake. (Yes, that Greg Lake) However, Crimson’s Robert Fripp and Pete Sinfield liked Ferry so much they helped the vocalist’s young band obtain a management contract with EG Records.

Ferry started the band with bassist Graham Simpson, then recruited saxophonist Andy MacKay and drummer Paul Thompson via wanted ads placed in Melody Maker. MacKay brought along his university chum Brian Eno to act (initially) as a technical advisor. Phil Manzanera joined the band just as they started recording their debut album, replacing former ex-Nice guitarist David O’List.

Ferry initially monikered the band “Roxy”, an homage to the name given to old-fashioned cinemas and dance halls across the UK. He then found out there was already a similarly-named American band, so added “Music” to differentiate the two.

The band’s debut album was recorded – along with their quirky hit single “Virginia Plain” (not included on the original LP release, but subsequently added to LP & CD re-issues) – in March 1972 and unleashed on the public a few months later.

I feel somewhat ashamed in retrospect that it apparently took me until January 1973 to first acknowledge it!

The sleeve alone stood out as completely different to everything else I was listening to at the time. Whilst groups like ELP, Deep Purple or the Edgar Broughton Band featured terrible representations of the band members, Roxy Music turned things on their head by having an extremely glamourous model – Kari-Ann Muller – lounging across the gatefold.

If that wasn’t enough to draw this impressionable teenager in, then the musical contents certainly did.

The opener, “Re-Make/Re-Model“, starts with the sounds of a cocktail party in progress before launching full-tilt into what, on the surface, appears to be a traditional rock & roll song from the 50’s, complete with solos from each of the band members. Subsequent listens unveil a whole separate texture to the song, with Eno’s futuristic synthesizer sounds and MacKay & Manzanera’s instruments creating an almost cacophonous roar. There’s more than just a cursory nod to The Beatles “Day Tripper” in the riffing, but the most off-the-wall element is the vocal chorus of “CPL 593H“, allegedly the number plate of Ferry’s car at the time!

“Ladytron” is one of Ferry’s (what-would-become) trademark ‘seduction’ songs, and kicks off with an eerie duet between MacKay’s oboe skills and Eno’s synthesiser blips and gloops before eventually descending into another band battle of sounds and noises.

“If There Is Something” is quintessential early-Roxy. It forges a sound that the band would duplicate over and over again;- Ferry’s vibrato – but utterly nonchalant – vocal styling at the forefront with repeated band melodies behind him. MacKay’s oboe playing is nothing short of magnificent, his mid-song solo bringing the tune its melancholy.

It would be easy to think that “2HB“, which closes side 1, is Ferry’s personal tribute to pencils. It is actually a song dedicated to actor Humphrey Bogart, specifically his role as Rick in Casablanca. In keeping with the movie, this song has a detached moody atmosphere, entirely driven by Ferry’s electric piano and MacKay’s erie Eno-enhanced sax.

Side 2’s opener is “The Bob (Medley)” , a bitty & somewhat unstructured affair – and probably my least favourite track on the whole album. Punctured by the sound of warfare (Bob is an acronym for “Battle of Britain”) the song is split into sections that veer dramatically from each other. It’s almost as if the band are showing off just a little too much, or trying a little too hard with this track, although it has be stated that without Thompson’s thumpy drums or Manzanera’s fretwork it would amount to very little indeed.

Things get properly back on course with “Chance Meeting“, one of Ferry’s more traditional love songs. It is peppered with Manzanera’s guitar – having first been fed through Eno’s box of electronic tricks – and underlined by Ferry’s own gentle piano playing.

I personally feel that “Would You Believe” is one of Roxy’s unsung little masterpieces, so ‘unsung’ that there’s no footage available at all on YouTube. The boogie-woogie piano, drum, guitar and sax section that intersperse the contrary starkness is pure rock and roll, and offers more than a mere hint to some of Ferry’s influences,

“Sea Breezes” is, pure and simple, a Roxy Music ‘classic’ – assuming such a thing even exists. It is one of my – admittedly many – ‘shower songs’, wherein I persecute the walls of our bathroom with my singing. It starts off pretty traditionally, Ferry’s gentle voice overlaying some fine guitar, synth and sax work. Suddenly the silence is punctured by a drum break and we find ourselves in new territory altogether, amps turned up to ’11’ and the band members noisily battling each other. Then, as quickly as the noise starts, it all mellows out again and Ferry once again professes his love for the song’s protagonist. Delightful stuff.

“Bitters End” ties the album up, a 50’s doo-wop pastiche containing a strange choral refrain of “bizarre” almost summing up the entire album’s sound. Its also the song that seems to ‘go’ with the band’s image seen on the inside LP sleeve.

I think those images ‘drew’ me to the album as much as the music itself. There’s Manzanera in ‘fly’ sunglasses a decade or two before U2’s Bono discovered them, MacKay personifying “rock’n’roll”, and Ferry & Eno in leopard/tiger skin leather jackets, the latter looking particularly ‘other-worldy’ (and, bless him, displaying early signs of hair loss)

The second Roxy Music album “For Your Pleasure” was the album that REALLY sealed my personal – and lifelong – fascination for the band, but this very assured debut introduced me to their quirky stylings and unique sound in a major way.

It also goes to underline the fact – repeated again for those that have forgotten it – that I was willing to listen to – and appreciate – just about anything that came my way. Whilst many of my school chums may have been fixated only by Heavy Rock or Pop Music my own listening rounded up both of those and a whole lot more besides.

I often wonder if bands such as Roxy Music would stand even half a chance in the current music ‘business’. I would like to think that with someone as always forward-thinking and technically-savvy as Brian Eno in its ranks the band would find a way of getting their music across to the masses but I’m not convinced there would be a 100% guarantee of success.