INTERVIEWS, REVIEWS & RELATED ARTICLES
"Craft is what enables you to be successful
when you're not inspired." - Brian Eno
Disc APRIL 7, 1973 - by Andrew Tyler
Six or seven months ago, a Roxy performance was such a cool business you got the impression the band would be just as satisfied if the audience didn't show up. Perhaps it was their lack of confidence and ignorance of the finer points of stage tactics that made them appear wooden and disinterested. Whatever it was, it's all over now. Saturday and Sunday they were at the Rainbow and in contrast to their shambling, moody past, there was a real sense that something special was taking place.
The stage itself - normally barren and vacant - was subtly re-arranged by use of a bank of spotlights that framed the band in the centre spot. There were four dancing girls with dancing breasts. Plus the pouting Roxy lady herself, Amanda Lear, direct from the cover of the first album, who introduced the band and shook her things.
Bryan Ferry, the man with the upside-down vocal chords, is fast becoming the star of the Roxy line-up and now makes a separate flying entrance and, while onstage, collects much of the attention. But there are plenty of visual distractions, not the least being the bizarre couture and dancing feet. Musically, it was, at times, a precise re-creation of recorded tracks like Grey Lagoons, Do The Strand, The Bogus Man and If There Is Something, but they leave enough options open to extend some of the heavier passages.
The audience found it difficult to react in any positive way, since much of Roxy's music is best received horizontally and although there were some shrieks and related signs of encouragement, reaction was a sort of numb respect. Towards the end of the first night, Bryan Ferry invited the audience to leave their seats and crowd the front and this had the affect of raising the temperature several degrees. Naughty... this sort of thing is against the fire regulations and when the exercise was repeated on the second night the audience was faced with a cordon of security men who were eventually penetrated by a flying tackle from a photographer.