Roxy Music

The Perennial New Romantics

Roxy Music’s return to the live circuit after a ten year lapse was supposed to attracted keen anticipation, not least because it took off at Newcastle, home of the band’s founder Bryan Ferry (as well as drummer Paul Thompson). Last Tuesday, one would have expected the Geordie spirit to make itself heard, but it didn’t.

Despite a two hours performance that was, by and large, entertaining just as it was intriguing, it seemed as if there was a detachment between Bryan Ferry and his fans. I am not a Geordie, I am not even British but I have been here quite often for many concerts, not least because of the unique British atmosphere. This time, I could discern this lack of audience spirit. It could be the very fact that it is not so easy to react to Bryan Ferry’s own aloof stage persona, his minimalist delivery, and his equally minimalist attire. It may have been the sound quality in some areas at The Metro Arena, (I was at the front rows and had no problems whatsoever here). It could also be the very fact that this concert featured not just the hits but some great songs from the early, experimental-and magical Roxy era.

The band intends to vary its songs over this relatively short tour and even diehard fans would admit that songs like Prairie Rose, 2HB and Bittersweet still have a lot of subtle melodies that should still be fathomed. The brilliant light show gave just a glimpse of what is behind all these gems. Although almost three decades have passed since Roxy Music have done anything in the studio, their music remains compelling, challenging though sadly, perhaps less influential than it was during the 80s, not least the New Romantic era.

Nonetheless, Bryan Ferry, now 65 remains a perennial new romantic. In Newcastle, he appeared in a two-tone rather dishevelled suit, in contrast to the more attire conscious band members. Could it be that Ferry, who is this tour’s musical director wanted to show his unconventionality through a subtle manner? (As with his music, Bryan Ferry is known to be quite touchy about his looks).

It takes more than just passion in understanding Roxy Music, especially when performing live. Some of their music is really complex, and even some of their more ear-friendly hit singles exude intelligence and wryness that few other acts can emulate. It is significant that David Bowie and Mike McGear (with the help of his brother Paul McCartney) have acknowledged Roxy’s importance by delivering cover versions of their songs. The Main Thing, an instrumental from the Avalon days kicked off the show, and indeed it did not really reflect what was in store…a rather lame three minutes which were immediately rubbed off by a formidable version of Streetlife, sounding just as nuanced, gutsy and challenging as it was when it was released back in autumn of 1973.

The ensuing song Pyjamarama, a forgotten under-rated hit single from earlier that year made a warm welcome but for reasons unknown, was terminated abruptly towards the end. Roxy’s canon from the early 70s was arguably delivered with zest and in a very articulated manner. Amazona, 2HB, If There Is Something, Editions of You, Do The Strand did not lose anything of their original sparkle, with Phil Manzanera’s stylish licks and Andy MacKay’s unique sax playing. MacKay, now in his 60s remains in a league of his own and at Newcastle he showed his worth with his performance, which ranged from being atonal on Bitter Sweet and Virginia Plain to pulsating and nimble on 2HB.

Ferry was fine on If There Is Something which lived up to its style as a narrative that eventually builds up on a folk-psyche blues and concludes on a hollering spiritual note. Here, it seemed as if all and sundry onstage were on one wavelength. Colin Good’s piano playing should also be given due credit and it proved to be more than just a filler in the show.

Ferry, time and again, would also complement on keyboards as he has done in the past. It is significant that a rhythm section, a one-man horn section show, two keyboard players and three backing singers were so attuned to one another. The singers gave more than their fair share, at times bolstering up Ferry’s plaintive vocals. They also sounded chilling, just as they were mystifying on the extended gospel-tinged version of Jealous Guy. Ferry’s own pondering of mortality on the tour’s theme song should have left an impressive mark on newcomers and more well-versed fans. Its richness lies in its sparseness. As each band member, starting off with Ferry, departed, Roxy Music’s romantic appeal remains as ever enigmatic and intellectually ironic too.