When: Released June 16, 1972
Why? I have been seeing Roxy Music album covers in the racks for as long as I’ve been buying albums, but I’ve never heard a single song.
What? Ten songs, 46 minutes, that have been described as art rock, glam rock, prog rock, cosmic rock, “eclectic” and “very peculiar.” This is Roxy Music’s debut album. (Although the song “Virginia Plain” did not appear on the original LP, it has been included on a number of rereleases and was included during this listen.)
First Impressions: This isn’t the kind of album you casually listen to in the background. Synthesized soundscapes, background saxophones and oboes that sound like animals unleashed, drumming of a proficiency rarely heard in pop/rock music these days, and lead singer Bryan Ferry’s over-the-top delivery (and vibrato) combine to deliver songs that flow like prose poems and reward attention—even if you have no idea what they mean.
After one listen, I understand why all of the descriptors above have been used to describe Roxy Music. In fact, there are individual songs here where every single one of them would apply (“The Bob”). Despite the eclecticism and peculiarities—or maybe because of them—I really enjoyed the journey this album presented.
That surprised me a bit because this album shares similarities with King Crimson’s “In the Court of the Crimson King,” which I did not enjoy—particularly, a fondness for extended instrumentals and strange soundscapes. (There is another connection: This album was produced by former King Crimson lyricist Peter Sinfield.) The difference for me was that these experiences were much more focused here, more musical to my ears, and delivered with humor, which—far as I could tell—was completely absent from “Court.” Consider opener “Re-Make/Re-Model.” Not only does Ferry’s exaggerated vibrato suggest that he’s (over)playing a role, but the main chorus hook is a license-plate number. As a song, it seems to have its tongue firmly planted in one cheek. That doesn’t stop with the lyrics. During the extended instrumental outro, we get musical breaks punctuated with quick riffs from familiar songs—for example, a line from The Beatles’ “Day Tripper”—as if Roxy is nodding to some of their heroes. Or maybe just having a laugh.
Despite the knowing humor that glam represents (and without the visual of the band this doesn’t always feel like a glam-rock record to me), the lyrics are grounded and meaningful with only an occasional bit of wordplay or frivolity. (Closer “Bitters End” is a lighthearted pun- and allusion-filled exception.) The musicianship is stellar, with particularly standout performances by Andy Mackay on sax and oboe, Paul Thompson on drums, Brian Eno on synthesizers, and Ferry himself on piano. While not showy, Graham Simpson’s bass work is foundational and tasteful.
Equally important is the stereo mix. There are moments when synthesized chaos is occurring in the right channel while a simple melody is offering counterpoint in the left, with both underscoring what’s happening lyrically.
I don’t think there was a weak track here. Among those I most enjoyed, though, “Sea Breezes” may be my favorite. It’s a beautiful, well-crafted song raised to another level through its inventive production and arrangement.
So? I found something to like in every track here. I will definitely continue to listen to this.