Roxy Music: Stranded - 1973
"Connoisseurs might notice the number of allusions to various brands of chocolate" - Bryan Ferry
Roxy Music's third album here, and the first since the departure of electronic muse Brian Eno, saw a slight streamlining of their sound - less synthesisers and tape loops, a heavier guitar sound, a greater emphasis on more melodic piano sound.
The employment of multi-instrumentalist Eddie Jobson in Eno's place certainly helped in this. There are many who think that the only credible Roxy Music albums were the first two, the Eno ones, but this is really up there with them. Indeed, in many ways it could be considered superior. Listen to it as a whole, it gets better and better.
The vaguely unsettling, difficult to categorise nature of their music is still clearly in evidence. This is still very much a "Roxy Music Phase One" (1972-1975) album. Notably, though, Bryan Ferry, in the autumn of 1973, began to adopt the tuxedo-clad lounge bar look and the group were becoming more of a vehicle for his aspirational chic than a bizarre, disparate melting pot of futuristic and proto-glam characters-images. This resulted in some intra-band tension (Phil Manzanera initially sulking about Jobson's appointment and friend of Eno Andy Mackay considering joining Mott The Hoople, apparently) but it never manifested itself in the studio. Indeed Mackay stated that he and Manzanera were pragmatic people who just got on with it.
All that and I forgot to mention cover girl Marilyn Cole's magnificent nipples...
What was certain, even at the time, was that Ferry was no "bricklayer in make-up" glam poseur such as Steve Priest of The Sweet, Mud's Rob Davis or even "the spider with the platinum hair" Mick Ronson - he was viewed as something much cooler. Ferry wasn't playing for laughs, his look was for real, so much so that you could imagine him lounging around at home in his tuxedo or a smoking jacket, sipping the finest cognac. Ferry's obsession with being the wealthy country squire, connoisseur and bon viveur began right here.
Initially, one felt that the quiet, tender ballad Just Like You was a bit of a lightweight track. After the glammy power and sheer verve of Street Life, it seemed something of a let-down, particularly for my fourteen year-old self. Dig deeper though and it has hidden qualities, and indeed I even knew this back then - an impressive Phil Manzanera guitar solo mid-way through and some throbbing, melodic bass from John Gustafson provides a foundation to a most underrated Roxy song. Lyrically, its simplicity can sometimes hide an influence from the great romantic poets - Keats, Shelley, Byron. There has always seemed to be something of Shakespeare's sonnets about it too.
The Phil Manzanera-contrived Amazona was the one obvious link back to Roxy's earlier work, and this unique song could have sat nicely on either of the first two albums. It is very much an off-the-wall "early Roxy"-style track - fast paced, with lots of weird noises as if Eno was back with the band, some very affected Ferry vocals, searing Manzanera guitar, great drums and some bizarre, completely irrelevant lyrics about an area of Brazil. It is a beguiling, mysterious and typically impossible to categorise piece of work. Manzanera was very fond of his creation, it seems, but I always got the impression that Ferry just sort of went along with it to humour Phil. It doesn't feel like a Ferry song, but it is certainly one of the album's many high points. It was the one that really caught my imagination upon first hearing in those afore-mentioned dark December late afternoons back in 1973. The song was sampled to great effect by rapper Ice-T on That's How I'm Living It.
For many, Psalm was the album's low point - an eight minute, slow burning dirge full of quasi-religious lyrics and none of that madcap Roxy creativity, such as on Street Life and Amazona. That is to do the song a disservice though. It is packed full of atmosphere and lyrical power. It builds up beautifully - fugue-like piano and organ, a lovely, warm vocal from Ferry, insistent thumping drums from Thompson, Manzanera's guitar chopping in and out behind the vocal and Andy Mackay's saxophone getting increasingly involved as the verses progress. Then, about four and a half minutes in, a Welsh male voice choir joins in on massed backing vocals, Ferry picks up his harmonica, Manzanera turns up the guitar licks and what you get is something rather special. Ferry returns with an ever-strengthening vocal to lift the song to to its climax and Mackay helps him with some wailing saxophone. Do not underestimate the sheer beauty of this track. Musically and lyrically, it stands apart from anything else the band did, although its brooding insistence matches the second half of Mother Of Pearl. I loved it back in 1973 and still do today. Those who skip it are missing out in the same way as those who did the same to Bob Dylan's Lily, Rosemary & The Jack Of Hearts.
Serenade was another "fade in" song that quickly launches itself into being a quintessential Roxy mid-70s rocker, as indeed was Whirlwind on 1975's Siren. The usual ingredients of a vibrating Ferry vocal and some killer Manzanera guitar. There is a nice, slower, piano-based "bridge" before the drums kick back in as the song reaches its climax.
Song For Europe was a true Roxy classic. Atmospheric, evocative, beautiful, dramatic. All of those and more. Every member doing what they do best to the max. A lovely tinkling piano introduction sonically reflects the waters of Venice's canals before Ferry croons his way in to sing the slow, seductive verses. Thompson's drums and Mackay's soaring saxophone come in for each "chorus" part (although there is no obvious chorus, as such, just the louder bits). A beautiful piano and bass passage build up to the song's tumultuous climax as Ferry starts singing firstly in Latin and then in French, finishing it off with one of his affecting whistling passages. Just what other band, in 1973, could come up with something like this? Simply magnificent. The bit where Ferry first sings "tous ces moments" still gets my spine tingling.On Mother Of Pearl Roxy heaven continues - first with with the frenetic first one and a half minutes of breakneck guitar driven rock, before the tempo instantly drops to a slow, plaintive drum beat and high-pitched background guitar interventions as the tension builds up again, rather like it did in Psalm and, bit by bit we slowly reach a climax again. The pace gets just a bit faster, Ferry's delivery gets more urgent, the bass becomes more obvious, the drums more insistent, the guitar parts more intricate. Why, its just bloody wonderful. It is here that I realise that, for me, this is the best Roxy Music album of all. No question. Apparently, it is also Brian Eno's favourite Roxy album, so there you go.
The last unaccompanied fade-out lines of Mother Of Pearl segue into the beautiful, melodic piano intro to the lovely Sunset, a low-key send off for this great album. Ferry croons in classic style over a piano and deep, vibrating string bass backing (that sounds just like a cello). Just approaching the three minute mark, Ferry is gone for a while and a simply mesmeric piano and drum passage builds up to the song's closing movements with one more extended verse from Ferry before an intoxicating instrumental fade out.
All things considered, this was the best Roxy Music album, for me. It's pretty damn perfect.
With regard to non-album rarities, the 'b' side of the single Street Life was Hula Kula, which dates from the 1973 sessions for this album and is another inconsequential instrumental 'b' side. It features guitarist Phil Manzanera playing Hawaiian-style guitar while Andy Mackay plays sax and Paul Thompson percussion. It lasts a couple of minutes and, er, that's about it....
