My homie chris went to see Roxy Music the other night and wrote a review for it, and so we've decided to add a new segment called Chris's Corner which will get updated whenever he sees something he likes.
Chris is a highly articulate and intelligent young fellow, so check it out if you're sick of reading my shittt!
- Ben
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Two nights ago I went to see Roxy Music perform to fifteen thousand shuffling baby boomers at the M.E.N arena in Manchester. Despite being born nineteen years after the band first started performing together (and the original members all remain, aside from Eno), not owning any of their albums nor ever having listened to them out of my own free will*, I had a truly great time.
Chris is a highly articulate and intelligent young fellow, so check it out if you're sick of reading my shittt!
- Ben
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Two nights ago I went to see Roxy Music perform to fifteen thousand shuffling baby boomers at the M.E.N arena in Manchester. Despite being born nineteen years after the band first started performing together (and the original members all remain, aside from Eno), not owning any of their albums nor ever having listened to them out of my own free will*, I had a truly great time.
The cynical among you may think I had a great time for any number of the following reasons:
- I went for two pints with a friend when I arrived in Manchester and saw a healthy amount of change from a five pound note (two pints for less than a fiver!!!)
- I then met my parents who took me for a Mexican meal which I didn’t pay a penny for.
- I discovered my parents had paid £65 for their tickets to Roxy Music, whereas I got my ticket for free, was in a private box, with free food and booze (I had 4 San Miguels and saw £5 change from a fiver).
- The look on my fathers face; a Roxy Music fan since 1971, when I revealed this information to him.
- Did I mention that I was in a private box?
- With a free bar?
And the cynical among you would be correct. But I will say this:
The facts listed above can be likened to a lofty, oh so perfect pitch of the ball from the great and omnipotent bowler of time. Sure, any old fool could have knocked that ball for six; my day had already been great. However, Bryan Ferry and the gang smashed it right over the crowd, out of the stadium and into a new dimension of stoke, rad and awesome which had me captivated.
Myself and Dave arrived at the gig with plenty of time to spare to get comfortable, have a beer and play spot-the-youngest-people-apart-from-us-in-the-crowd game (she was forty if she was a day). I’ve never been to the M.E.N before and even though the vast majority of the crowd were probably born before electricity was invented, the atmosphere was pretty, well, electric. The show was scheduled to begin at 7.30pm, and at 7.31pm the first support band took to the stage. Normally I would expect at least half an hours leeway on scheduled times, but the 40-60 age bracket is a vicious one with the pen and paper and probably far more likely to write a letter of complaint than me or my peers about any late starts to the show. Promptness is fine by me.
The first support band were pretty good, a funky reggae act complete with charismatic front man and a bongo player. They got everyone moving a little in their seats to lyrics about calming down angry men and peace and love, but for me and the rest of the crowd they were just another obstacle between us and Roxy Music. The second support act were a real cowboy style country and western band hailing from Idaho, and forgive me for a being a little bias towards that sort of music but they were fucking great. The two men and one woman on Guitar, Double Bass, and Violin respectively, combined with their harmonious voices were all it took to transport me into a world of swinging saloon doors, gun fights, and maybe a little riding on railroad boxcars too. The guitar was smooth and slick and the violin incredibly competent but the real star of their show was the double bass player, who somehow managed to slap out the most insane rhythm on his double bass, almost like he was snapping his fingers every time he plucked a note. I can’t really describe exactly how good it was or what it sounded like, but it took me a few minutes to realise that there was no percussion on the stage behind them, and that the sound was emanating solely from the bass player.
So by this time we were all well and truly warmed up, the support band left and Roxy Music’s roadies took to the stage to set things up. Dave and I took this opportunity to grab another beer and head to the merchandise stall to get wilfully ripped off for a t-shirt with two half-naked ladies on the front. It’s a little out of character for me to pay £20 for a t-shirt, ever, but I suppose I’d had a bit to drink and excitement had taken hold of my senses. Whatever, I put it on my card, just add it to the rest of my mounting debt.
I’m going to be honest, I can’t really remember exactly how Roxy Music took to the stage, but my first impressions were captivation at the large screen behind the band that spliced about three different images together of the bands artwork, amazement at how incredibly hot the (female) Tenor Sax player was and just general oh wow this is Roxy Music sort of vibe. Things started slowly but surely, but to begin with I didn’t recognise any songs in particular, although the sound was very familiar to me. I just sat back and tapped my feet.
The three stand out sounds of Roxy Music for me are Bryan Ferry’s voice, Andy Mackay’s saxophone and Phil Manzanera’s guitar. Ferry will lead the lyrics up to the sometimes dizzying riffs of the guitar and saxophone; both these guys are masters of their instruments to a level where it stops sounding like someone playing a guitar or saxophone and more like someone playing the music in their head and reproducing it perfectly through the instrument in their hands.
Like I said, Roxy Music started slowly but surely, and after about an hour things had reached a peak, and they started pulling out the heavy hitters, like ‘Avalon’. As the band broke into ‘Virginia Plain’, one of their biggest hits, there was large noise and I thought the roof was caving in. My fear was short lived, as I realised it was in fact the creaking of knees as the whole room stood up to boogie in the aisles. At twenty, I felt like the oldest person in the room, because everyone else was eighteen again in their heads. They topped this off with a couple more numbers, most notably ‘Love is the Drug’ which I actually know the words to, and then left the stage in style to a slow and calming instrumental which gradually faded into nothing after each member of the band in turn stood up, took a bow and left the stage.
Overall (I can’t help but sum up any piece of writing like this), this was the first and probably the last time I will ever see Roxy Music, and I really enjoyed it. Congratulations if you made it this far, I’m off to practise my Bryan Ferry dance in the mirror, for a sixty five year old man he sure knows how to move.
-Chris
*I have listened to a lot of Roxy Music and Brian Ferry over the years, as my parents are massive fans and they get ample air time in the car along with 10cc, Pink Floyd and the like. I suppose I can credit my familiarity with many of Roxy Music’s songs to my mother. In my formative years, we drove to all manner of European holiday destinations – Italy, Austria, and Switzerland- on account of my mother’s irrational fear of flying. While it is incredibly annoying for a young teenager or any sort of sentient being for that matter to be trapped in a hot car with members of its family for two days of solid driving, it did allow me to become more familiar with the finer points of Roxy Music’s unique synthy, saxy, rocky sound.
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