Upon A Mouse #5: Roxy And Romy

Yesterday's post featured a pair of American bands; today, it's back to England for Roxy Music and The xx (or, if you prefer, The XX).

Before I get into the detail, just in case this is your first visit to the blog this week/in a while/ever, I am honour bound to point out that the inspiration for this series is another series on another blog. 

That series is The 20 Greatest Eponymous Albums Of All Time series (recently concluded) and that blog is No Badger Required (continuing to delight on a daily basis).

I was invited to join the NBR Musical Jury to cast my vote for my Top 20 from a longlist. Some of my suggestions made it to the final countdown, some didn't, and extracts from many of my comments were included in the published posts.

This series is running through my picks, expanding on and reframing those original submissions. And if it's further encouragement to have another listen to those albums, even go out and buy a copy if you don't already have it, then all the better.

In my Top 20, Roxy Music's debut came in at #16, whilst The xx were several places higher at #11. In No Badger Required's definitive list, both fared less well. The xx were placed at #17, and Roxy Music failed to make the Top 20 altogether.

From my experience, I knew a bit about Roxy Music growing up, but as my teens - and record buying - kicked off in the mid-1980s, I was more familiar with Bryan Ferry’s slick solo career. My first purchase therefore wasn't any of Roxy Music's run of classic albums, but the 12" single of Windswept. And, if I'm honest, I was almost certainly drawn as much to it being a value-for-money 4-song EP as I was to the quality of the lead single.

As for Bryan Ferry himself, I liked his voice and his super smooth appearance, though more in the manner of a cool uncle than someone to aspire to. From watching Bryan's facial expressions during his regular appearances on TV chat shows and Top Of The Pops, it also seemed to me that performing was a painful experience. Not so much the act of singing itself, but more that his grimaces suggested trapped wind or acid reflux. 

The excellent Street Life compilation came out in 1986, gathering twenty of Bryan's finest songs with Roxy Music and as a solo artist, bought on cassette (probably by my brother) and a staple of our parents' car stereo and in-house hifi as it was one of the few records that either of us owned that our mum and dad could also tolerate.

None of the "20 Great Hits" featured on Street Life were lifted from Roxy Music's self-titled debut and I never took a deeper dive into the Roxy Music catalogue for the remainder of the 20th century. 

My first impression of Roxy Music (the album) was that the cover was garish and dated (I still do) but when I eventually took the plunge and actually listened to the album, I wondered why I had held off for so long. Not just down to the songs that I was familiar with (Remake/Re-Model and Ladytron), not even the fact that there were no singles (hence the absence from Street Life), but that the album is a crazy, eclectic, delightful mix of ideas and music. 

If anything, Side Two is even more bonkers than Side One, with The Bob (Medley) and Chance Meeting, before Would You Believe? leaps back into a Sixties pop bop jamboree, as does closing song Bitters End, sandwiching the sublime Sea Breezes.

All in all, Roxy Music is an abject lesson in never judging an album by its cover. What lies in the grooves is astonishing.

I wasn’t expecting a Goth revival in the late 2000s. I didn’t know I needed a Goth revival in the late 2000s. Yet, musically speaking, The xx was everything that I needed right then, right there. 

My friend John punted The xx's eponymous first to me as part of a bundle of new and old albums that he thought I would like. The timing also coincided with my growing appetite for searching and downloading freebies from the internet - there were so many legitimate freebies back then - which bolstered my collection of The xx with multiple remixes of album tracks and singles.

Whilst none of the latter surpassed the original versions, nearly all of the artists drawn to remixing The xx understood what made them magical, and such a compelling band and in the majority of cases, managed not to lose that magic in translation.

The album itself is wonderful: Romy and Oliver’s vocals; that on-point bass; Jamie’s 21st century synth nous. All coalesced into a murky, gloomy whole that somehow managed to be both an enervating and energising experience. 

Not a tune out of place or a note wasted. 

Today's cover photo, snapped off the telly at 23:59 on Sunday 28th April 2024 apparently, is a first for this series in that it does actually have some relevance!

The man with the perplexed expression is Nick Laird-Clowes, performing Life In A Northern Town, the big hit for his band The Dream Academy, on Top Of The Pops in April 1985. 

Much as I like The Dream Academy's eponymous debut, it wasn't a contender for the No Badger Required challenge. By way of consolation, I've added one of their videos to today's selection. Please forgive me, Nick!