Classic Album Review: Bryan Ferry - Let’s Stick Together (1976)

Let’s Stick Together was released as Bryan Ferry’s third solo album back in 1976, but it isn’t so much an orthodox studio set, made in the usual way, rather it’s a compilation of previously released material – including singles, covers, b-sides, and even re-recordings of stuff that Roxy Music had earlier put its name to.

As such it all feels a little bit patchy and lacks flow. Taken as a whole, the album is basically a hybrid of different styles; part rock (as with the title track – a two-time hit single for Ferry), part easy listening cabaret, throw in some mellow jazzy interludes, and as always, much of it finds Ferry in classic crooner mode. 

Compiled at a time when Roxy Music was very much in recess, it’s interesting to note the alternative takes on the early Roxy material, with Brian Eno’s more experimental influence obviously purged to be replaced by Ferry’s own interpretation on several key tracks. This, despite the continued involvement of fellow Roxy Music members Paul Thompson (drums), Eddie Jobson (violin and synths), and Phil Manzanera on many of the recordings. 

Best bits: the title track and album opener, which has become something of a signature tune for Ferry, plus ‘Casanova’, ‘You Go To My Head’, the Lennon and McCartney cover ‘It’s Only Love’, the Everly Brothers’ ‘The Price Of Love’, and the Jimmy Reed track ‘Shame Shame Shame’. 

Something of a mixed bag, but still well worth checking out.

Album Review: Moby - All Visible Objects (2020)

I don’t quite know what to make of Moby’s latest album, All Visible Objects. It’s been touted in some sections of the music press (or corners of the internet) as a somewhat rusty return to his rave/techno roots, but I’m not sure anyone really needs that right now.

I really enjoyed the introspective nature - on the surface, at least - of his 2018 album, Everything Was Beautiful and Nothing Hurt, but this one leaves me feeling bemused. And frustrated.

That’s no real surprise. I’ve always had a rather fractious relationship with Moby’s music (as documented here). He’s difficult to warm to as an individual, with multiple faces or hard-to-embrace personas being presented to the wider public over the past 30 years. 

What that actually means when it comes to analysing Moby’s music rather depends on your own level of investment in the man and his art. Mine’s been minimal, so I’ll try to focus on the music.

All Visible Objects is the proverbial mixed bag of an album, with a few highs, more lows, a selection of guest vocalists, and the odd (very odd) cover - in this case, a soulless take on Roxy Music’s ‘My Only Love’, featuring regular Moby vocal collaborator Mindy Jones. A version that strips away the despair and emotional poignancy of Bryan Ferry’s original, and pads it out with lush layers of faux-rave, almost euphoric, synth fluff.

Slightly more endearing is the (co-write) collaboration with Linton Kwesi Johnson on ‘Refuge’, which, although quite repetitive, resonates with me more than anything else found on the album. But that might just be because I’m a fan of LKJ’s trademark vocal delivery, and not because it’s an especially strong Moby adaptation.

The rest? Well, there’s some truth to those return-to-rave claims, not least on the lead single, ‘Power is Taken’, which is another collaboration, this time with D. H. Peligro (of Dead Kennedys), and quite possibly the worst thing here due to its unimaginative high bpm techno, its inauthentic anti-“the man” right-on pretentiousness, and the annoying refrain ... “those who hate oppression, must fight against the oppressor. Power is not shared, power is taken” … 

Sure, Moby has as much right as anyone else to be angry at the world, but for whatever reason (pick one), it just rings a little hollow coming from him. In much the same way it does when a mansion-dwelling millionaire hip hop mogul raps about life in the projects and living on the edge (man). We’ve been here before.

And while are there are other big room hands-in-the-air moments that hark back to the halcyon days of ‘Go’ and ‘Move’ without exactly replicating those (now dated) highs, much of this stuff - particularly across the second half of the album - would be equally at home on any of his more ambient works, or even as extended interludes on a commercial blockbuster like Play. 

‘Too Much Change’, one of a handful of tracks featuring primary guest vocalist Apollo Jane, is decent enough, but at something close to ten minutes in length, it might have been improved with a little more judicious editing.

So it turns out that my latest liaison with the music of Moby is once again going to be a short-lived affair. It turns out Everything Was Beautiful was yet another false dawn, and the frustration I’ve endured with a lot of his work over the years resumes on All Visible Objects.

Where Everything Was Beautiful seemingly showcased a flawed middle aged man slowly coming to terms with an ever changing world, All Visible Objects is more about a misguided one stubbornly determined to recreate former glories. And not doing it particularly well.

I was tempted to close with a forlorn attempt at clever wordplay around “one man” and his obsession with “knobs”, but given that all sales proceeds from All Visible Objects are being donated to various charities, I should probably cut Moby some slack, and just say that this one is for resilient fans only.

Classic Album Review: Roxy Music - Avalon (1982)

Always pretty much a Brit-centric type of group, indisputably so during its earliest Eno-driven arthouse incarnation, Roxy Music had nonetheless made significant inroads into the all important American market by the time of its all-too-premature demise in the early Eighties. The band’s 1980 album, Flesh And Blood, contained a couple of radio-friendly hits which helped bridge the Atlantic divide, but it was 1982’s silky smooth follow-up, Avalon, that really established the band’s reputation in the States.

What a pity then, it was the band’s final album before Bryan Ferry embarked on a markedly less successful solo career – one that recommenced with Boys And Girls in 1985, after Ferry had released a run of solo albums in the Seventies; “filler” side project-type efforts, released between Roxy albums.

But if the band had to break-up, as it did for the best part of the next two decades, Avalon provided as fitting a swansong as you’re ever likely to get, and it is without question Roxy Music’s most accessible and commercially successful effort. It completed a remarkable transformation from unrepentant hard-line art-rock glamsters, to fully fledged neo-soul easy listening popsters – something that initially began as far back as Eno’s departure.

Nothing on Avalon is particularly hard to listen to or overly challenging. Even the seemingly insignificant little instrumental numbers (‘India’, ‘Tara’) add to the impression that Ferry and co were lapping up the sun, sipping expensive cocktails on a beach, shootin’ the breeze and recording whatever whimsical idea emerged.

The combination of Ferry’s nonchalant croon, Phil Manzanera’s instantly recognisible yet frequently sleepy guitar, and Andy Mackay’s successful merging of sax with synth (a real feature on Avalon), proving irresistible.

It should come as no real surprise then, that the album was recorded in the Bahamas. The band may well have been doing exactly as outlined.

Key tracks include the hit single ‘More Than This’, ‘Avalon’ – the super slick title-track, which was also released as single, ‘Take A Chance With Me’, the brooding slow rocker ‘The Main Thing’, and the light and breezy ‘To Turn You On’.