Standards of living They're rising daily But home oh sweet home It's only a saying From bell push to faucet In smart town apartment The cottage is pretty The main house a palace Penthouse perfection But what goes on? What to do there? Better pray there
~ "In Every Dream Home a Heartache" by Roxy Music
I know that I included the video of this in a recent post, but I'll include it again at the end for reference.
This song is intriguing to me. On the surface, it seems to be a song about an inflatable doll (well before The Police did it with "Sally/Be My Girl"), and the lines "I blew up your body/But you blew my mind" are way too much fun and always make me laugh in a rather uneasy way. It's a disturbing song, made even more so by Bryan Ferry's menacing, unblinking delivery.
But as I continued to read more about them, I realized there's a lot more to it than that.
Ferry studied art at University of Newcastle and one of his instructors was pop artist Richard Hamilton. One of Hamilton's early works was titled "Just What is It That Makes Today's Homes So Different, So Appealing?", from 1956. It's a collage of images from pop culture and consumerism, and it's considered to be the first widely-acclaimed piece of Pop Art. Hamilton's goal was to show the emptiness at the heart of rampant consumerism and obsession with objects.
Ferry revisited that theme for this particular song. It's about the disconnection in modern society: a perfect home but the only thing the owner can manage to find as companionship is an inflatable doll. Has he been driven mad by his lifestyle and ambitions? It would seem so. He is obsessed with his immortal and life-size companion, dressing her up, floating her around his new pool, but she ultimately betrays him by not giving him whatever it is he thinks he needs. She's as empty as the man's life. As Ferry himself said about the song, it's about "a guy who has everything but has nothing."
So there is a direct connection between Bryan's art degree, a seminal work of Pop Art, and the rock song that is the subject of this entry. A fusion of art and fashion and music and societal commentary, which is exactly what Bryan's goal was in starting the avant-garde art-rock group that became Roxy Music.
I'll cop to being an avid consumer (most recently of Roxy/Bryan albums and books) and there's no denying that I have my own obsession when it comes to them. But as long as I can justify it with deep thoughts about the songs, I figure I'm learning something along the way! That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
I don't want to be "that person" who shouts at clouds about how no one makes good music anymore. That's really not the case, anyway. But I think there's no denying that Roxy's/Bryan's songs have a deep cleverness to them that is missing from much modern music. Not everything has to be social commentary, of course. Sometimes you just need to get your ya-yas out. But I'll take a clever song that makes me think about a deeper meaning any day, even if it's about an unwell man's disturbing love for his "plain-wrapper baby."
Sometimes you find a yearning for the quiet life The country air and all of its joys But badgers couldn't compensate at twice the price For just another night with the boys oh yeah And boys will be boys will be boys
"Editions of You" by Roxy Music
As I mentioned at the close of the last record (a little Tubes reference for you there), Roxy Music is often considered to be one of the premier proto-punk bands. While I don't hear a lot of that in their music itself (they're much more refined), their DIY attitude was definitely punk. If any of their songs comes closest to a punk sound, I think it's "Editions of You."
I see it in the rapid-fire lyrics and the frenetic pace of the song. And the fellas themselves are in fine form. Let's go to the video!
First, we've got Bryan Ferry in full Lounge Lizard mode, running around the stage like someone just zapped him with a Taser. Andy Mackay's shakin' those maracas, Eno's shakin' that tambourine. Andy tosses the maracas to who knows where and there he is in his demented space alien outfit blasting out a sax solo while Bryan pounds the keys.
Then we immediately switch to Eno, who is decked out in that famous peacock feather jacket, workin' his synth, swiveling those hips.
Then we slam right into a blistering guitar solo from Phil Manzanera.
All the while, The Great Paul Thompson and John Porter keep the rhythm going with drums and bass respectively.
After some rapid fire drums from Thompson, we're back to Bryan. He sings another chorus and with a "this way!" he prances across the stage to do his own one-handed synth solo (no, that's not a euphemism for anything). He hurries back to his mic to sing the final lines, Eno tosses his tambourine also to who knows where (maybe the same place Andy's maracas ended up), Bryan ends with one last "you-hoo-hoo-hoo-oooo," the band winds it up with a couple of shots and Bryan looks like he gets walloped in the head, and...just like that, we're done.
The first time I saw that, some fifty years after it was first performed, I thought, "I don't know what the fuck I just watched but I think I'm in love!"
Honestly, it's an absolutely bonkers performance and I can only imagine what it was like to be in the audience for something like that.
You know that hypothetical question about if you could go back in time, where and when would you want to go? My answer to that used to be the library at Alexandria, but my new answer is one of Roxy Music's early gigs somewhere in England.
As I think about it, that in itself was rather punk of them. They were a shock to the system of the staid singer-songwriter template, ballads, and more traditional rock tunes. A few short years later, punk rock would poke a fat finger in the eye of the music establishment.
It's been well over two years since I've written here. I've been through some shit during that time. Some of you who know me know exactly what shit I'm talking about. I don't care to elaborate here at the moment. Suffice it to say that it's been a difficult time.
However, I've learned that as tough as I've always thought I was, I was even tougher than that. And as always, music saved me.
I was sitting at the computer one night, feeling a little aimless, going through the motions of my regular life, one that had changed so rapidly a few months before. I was watching a video of something and when it ended, a suggestion popped up for me.
It was "Mother of Pearl" by Roxy Music.
Of course, I knew about Roxy Music. Anyone who truly loves rock and roll does. I still have my 45 of "Love is the Drug," a song I loved back then and still love. But I had never gotten into them the way I had other bands. When you grow up in a small Midwestern town, you don't get a lot of exposure to certain bands, and Roxy was much more popular in Europe than they were in the States.
So I watched the video and was utterly mesmerized. I watched it again. And again, growing more enchanted with every viewing. 'Enchanted' is the correct word, too. I felt as though I'd had a spell cast over me. I remember thinking, "Jesus Christ, where have you been all my life?!"
And thus was born an obsession.
Many of you know what a Fangirl I can be, and when I Fangirl, I Fangirl all the way. I immediately began to do research. That's really what it was, too, because I wanted to learn everything I could about this amazing band that had escaped me for far too many years. I bought CDs, vinyl, DVDs of performances, special editions, and books. I've read four of them and have about that many more to read. As I work on putting up different artwork in the house, I ordered a bunch of prints of frontman Bryan Ferry, because there's no denying that he is one of the most iconic figures in rock history. (Kind of nice to look at, too.)
It has become a months-long passion that has given me focus and joy. I was reasonably certain that I hadn't lost those things, but they were buried under some pretty major emotional upheaval, and Roxy unearthed them. It felt so good to find that passion again and it's no surprise that it was music! It was a surprise that it was a band whose first release was in 1972, but ours is not to reason why. Just hand over the passion and nobody gets hurt, okay, pal?
If I can keep up some writing on here, I'll have more to write about individual songs (including the one that sparked the fire), but for now, I'll write briefly about the band itself and how influential they are.
They're widely considered to be a glam rock band, but they really aren't that at all. I think they got labeled with that because of their early, flashy stage looks: feathers, sequins, platform shoes, makeup. They were absolutely visually stunning, there is no doubt about that, but on their own terms, with no conforming wardrobe rules. (See: Bryan Ferry's iconic tuxedo jacket.) They're also considered to be one of the precursors of punk, but as I took a deep dive into them, I didn't hear that in much of their music.
What was definitely punk about them is that they embodied the punk ethos of DIY. Guys who weren't technically great musicians (except for Andy Mackay, the oboe/sax player, who studied music) but decided to learn on the job. Bryan Ferry taught himself to play the piano (just like me!) and had the novel idea of blending his art school training with music: making music as a work of art, a sort of performance art. It's no surprise that one of their biggest influences was The Velvet Underground.
Ferry studied under the pop artist Richard Hamilton at the University of Newcastle, and when I looked up Hamilton, I found that many of his works were modernist collages: a way of looking at pop culture and consumerism, the conveniences of modern life but also the emptiness and vapidity. As I dived deep into Roxy's songs, I found that many of them are collages themselves, combining different types of music, different tempos, different feelings altogether. It's been fascinating to me to think about the art/music connection. Roxy itself was a bit of a collage: from the early days of surreal and wonky experimentation to the middle days of more straight-up rock to the final smooth and timeless pop songs. You can break it down to the "For Your Pleasure" era, the "Siren" era, and the "Avalon" era. All very different sounds, but the same core players (Ferry, Mackay, guitarist Phil Manzanera).
Roxy's influence on other bands is beyond extensive. Steve Jones of the Sex Pistols named his first band The Strand, after a Roxy song; Souixsie and The Banshees are named after one of Bryan Ferry's college bands, The Banshees; Bananarama got their name from the Roxy song "Pyjamarama"; they are one of Duran Duran's biggest influences; one of Roxy's songs, written by Ferry, is "2HB," an homage to Humphrey Bogart, and Madness recorded a song called "4BF," an homage to Bryan Ferry; Cousin Shane's current band obsession, The Killers, has said that Roxy is one of their biggest influences.
To say that Bryan Ferry and Roxy Music changed the face of music is no exaggeration. They were resented by many musicians and music journalists at the time because they seemed to explode on the scene so quickly. It had been widely accepted that the proper protocol was for bands to "pay their dues" by touring extensively for years, playing small clubs and colleges. Roxy upended all of that, saying, "No, we want a record contract right away," and amazingly, through doggedness and sheer ballsiness, they got it. Their debut album, self-titled, went to #10 on the British charts, which was astounding for a band that had only recently started out.
Their presence and innovation was influential then and is just as influential now. And here I am, 50 years later, their music saving me from an ongoing dark night of the soul. While there is still a heartache in my dream home, Roxy and Bryan Ferry eased that heartache considerably, pushing it aside with passion and joy at the "discovery" of this truly amazing band.
