Roxy Music Review – Peacock rock art and their unparalleled anthems | Roxy music

TIt was an atmosphere of mystery that prevailed Roxy musicThe heyday of the seventies, in recent years, has been replenished by their absence from the live scene. It’s been over a decade since I last played rock opponents Debonair in the UK, which is a longer period of time, by the way, than the band’s entire eight-album recording history from 1972 to 1982. As interesting as the expectation is Roxy’s comeback On the 50th Anniversary Tour, with a lineup of four core members of their Imperial phase, including guitarist Phil Manzanera, drummer Paul Thompson and saxophonist and oboeist Andy Mackay. Still seeing unimaginable elegance and good looks at 77, the County Durham-born striker Brian Ferry He slips on stage and onto his piano chair in a dark suit, white shirt loosened and open to the chest. To borrow a song from Love Is the Drug: Dim the Lights, you can guess the rest.

The suitably career-extending collection begins with the opening track from Roxy Music’s self-titled debut album in 1972 – Re-Make/Re-Model – practically a statement to break it up and start again with its rogue wobble and shout-out vocals. All the shiny, shiny, peacock feathers and peacock feathers of the denim era of hard rock blue, funky punk time, and racy transatlantic juices by the time other British bands absorbed their bloated ways yet, Roxy’s originality and influence was something for everyone from David Bowie to Kate Bush could agree on it. Through his genius gameplay and mysterious acoustic “cures”, Brian Eno He polished his left-wing credentials as a founding member of the band before resigning in 1973, but Roxy’s reputation for invention has outlived the perverted strategists.

“Their best and most enduring songs paint the emotions in simple colours.” Photography: Stuart Westwood/Rex/Shutterstock

Fairey’s hairline has withstood the ravages of time much better than his luxurious silky krona – he’s counting on three supporting vocalists to help do most of the heavy lifting tonight, especially during a streak of Roxy’s most extreme numbers. However, the exact utterance somehow fits into a satire that drips as if written entirely with inverted commas. Among the plethora of opening songs from the end of the band’s most unsettling catalog, The Bogus Man — wisely shortened from its full nine-minute version in 1973’s For Your Pleasure — slipped and slid, before Ladytron saw a tartan Mackay suit treat Hydro awkwardly. Almost certainly one of the wildest oboe solo the place has ever seen. Surely a band with such an aversion to choirs would have nowhere to fill the squares a half-century later, but it helps whenever they unleash one’s ensemble—like Ferry’s armful playing to oh yeah, Ferry’s melancholy ode to Hollywood’s fading glamor— It tends to be huge.

The theater is filled by nine other musicians, including three keyboard players, in testimony to the maze arrangements of songs such as the primitive Soviet pop exercise The Main Thing. In every dream house, heartache—part critique of hollow opulence, part romance poem to inflatable sex doll—Fairy revisits his darkest lyric to a shivering member and creepy Manzanera guitar lines, the stage lit up in sinister green, ahead of the rest of the band. With a thunderous bang and the singer wanders offstage to let Roxy rock. It’s still in the wings as Mackay takes center stage for Tara, the epic oboe music surely beloved of the ubiquitous upscale hi-fi vendor.

For all the texture and shade of the Roxy Music catalog, the best and most enduring songs paint the emotions with simple colours. In the lively chorus and rhythm of Bontempi and the on-pipe electric disco of Dance Away, it’s easy to hear the origins of each new romantic band raiding their mothers’ makeup cabinets. It hardly matters that Ferry doesn’t bother trying to pounce on More Than This – people get out of their seats in ecstasy. The last disturbance is Roxy music At their most unrestrained, from the soaring horndog anthem and punk-funk precursor Love Is the Drug, to You Stamping versions, flank the band’s saccharine cover for John Lennon Jealous Guy, a pair of the original perennially young towers of the Virginia Plain and Doe Strand. It’s all in the past now, but has any other band made the look and sound of the future that much fun?

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