Saturday, December 14, 2024

Beth's Music Moment: "In Every Dream Home a Heartache" by Roxy Music

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." 




Sunday, December 8, 2024

Beth's Music Moment: "Editions of You" by Roxy Music

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. 

How perplexing it must have been for some, both fans and journalists. This was the early '70s, not long after the Summer of Love, and most musicians were still wearing bell-bottom jeans and and a denim shirt to match. Roxy Music seemingly came out of nowhere, resplendent in feathers and lamé platform boots and sometimes wearing—gasp!—makeup! How shocking! How scandalous! And how glorious! 

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. 

But Roxy did it before them.