For Your Pleasure
Best song: For Your Pleasure
Worst song: you’re implying that there’s a bad song on this
album? there isn’t of course, but let’s say Beauty Queen
Overall grade: 7
It’s been forty years since 1973, and not one of them has
come close to topping the number of exciting, innovative, near-perfect albums
that were put out that year. Roxy Music trailblazed here, getting their second
album out in the first quarter of the year, and actually going above and beyond
to put out another one before the year was over. Despite this, there’s nothing
at all rushed about any of this work. If anything, it feels more carefully
put-together than ever.
‘Roxy Music’ and ‘For Your Pleasure’ are, in my opinion, two
halves of the same double album that just happened to be released at different
times. ‘Roxy Music’ is the late afternoon and the early evening, where people
are poised and careful and there’s an anticipation of what’s to come, and ‘For
Your Pleasure’ had moved onto the late night where everything is wilder, sexier
and more dangerous. You can even see this just by looking at the album covers,
and there’s all kinds of links between the two in song titles and musical ideas
as well.
‘Do The Strand’ is an intense and passionate opener that
sums up the essence of Roxy Music for me; there’s some great texture in all the
instruments and Ferry sounds so involved in his vocal performance. It’s only
four minutes long, but has the feel of a much longer song all packed together
into a shorter length, and it never takes a moment to find its way – it knows
exactly where it’s going and powers through to get there as fast as possible.
Both ‘Beauty Queen’ and ‘Strictly Confidential take things
in an entirely different direction, slowing the pace right down and allowing
more time to show off the band’s talents. Ferry certainly demonstrates to
anyone who didn’t already know his capability of adding copious amounts of
emotion into his vocals on ‘Beauty Queen’, a song that some people consider too
‘normal’ – but in actual fact there’s a lot of weird stuff going on in the
synth and guitar parts, they’re just not such a blatant part of the song. They
are there, though, quietly resisting the vocals’ insistence on becoming a
straight up love song. ‘Strictly Confidential’ is a definite highlight on both
lyrics and atmosphere, and I love the role the sax plays in this.
If Roxy Music had been going to release a single from this
album at the time, then my pick is for ‘Editions of You’, the definitive fusion
of pop and art rock, with foot-tapping rhythms, hooks everywhere, amazing solos
from pretty much every member of the band. It’s one of those songs that
succeeds in being instantly likeable but also has a lot of long-lasting appeal.
If it had been released in the 90s, it would probably have its own dance.
But if they were going to release a retrospective single, then what could be more recognisable than ‘In
Every Dream Home a Heartache’? I mean, how many songs can you think of that are
about inflatable sex dolls? Personally, I can think of two (some people might
think that’s two too many) and this is definitely my favourite. It’s almost an
inside joke, the way everything seems so cinematic and melodramatic at first
even despite the subject matter, and Ferry’s singing this love poem as though
he’s entirely serious about it, right up to the ‘I blew up your body…’ line,
and then gives up all pretence at the punchline ‘…but you blew my mind’, and
then it’s like nobody else can keep a straight face any more as all the
instruments cascade in at once. It’s genius.
There’s a dreamlike, surreal quality to the first few
minutes of ‘Bogus Man’, which definitely ties into this being a nighttime
album: it’s like that feeling when it gets so late that nothing seems real
anymore. Its rhythm seems to predate the Talking Heads, who Eno would of course
go on to work with, but that’s not the only foreshadowing of Eno’s later work;
the hypnotic, repeated phrases are exactly the same principle that he would
take to extremes with his ambient work. Then, ‘Grey Lagoons’ is a 50s-style
song with an inimitable solo from Phil Manzanera that tends to get overlooked
because of its position on the album, but definitely holds its own by rocking
out between the two epics of the side.
Course, absolutely everything else is leading up to the pure
indulgence of the title track, where the vocals are rich and the piano is
lavish and the whole song is a special treat that never really gets moving
because it doesn’t need to; it’s perfectly OK with just lazing around and
getting the absolute most out of everything it has to offer. Still, it has that
unsettling feeling that something’s not quite right beneath the surface,
keeping you alert, making every second of the song fascinating. Eno may not
have a writing credit but he’s all over this song in the haze of synths coating
it and steps forward to take his bow in the experimental section that closes it
all out. If such a thing were possible, then I’d say this song knows just how good it is.
Though that may be the culmination of it all, every part of
this album is essential, and I wouldn’t want to change a thing about it.
And so ends the altogether too brief period of Eno’s Roxy
Music, which can overall only be described as one of the most successful genre
mishmashes of all time. Eno would go on to have an incredibly impressive
good-to-bad ratio in his string of song-based solo albums as well as invent an
entire genre of music before the decade was over. Roxy Music, meanwhile, would
stay together with Ferry coming to the front more than ever before, and within
months would release the album that most people consider to be their best.
Personally, although the first time I heard ‘For Your Pleasure’ was before I
heard ‘Stranded’, I was pretty confident even then that they couldn’t release
an album greater than this one.
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