Glam Rock

Roxy Music “Stranded” (Island, 1973)

Brian Eno’s favorite Roxy Music album, Stranded is the British prog-glam group’s first full-length without the wildcard synthesist. Perverse! But the great man has a point, even if I don’t totally agree with him; For Your Pleasure and Country Life vie for the top spot in my mind, altough the self-titled debut LP boasts the best three-song run on any Roxy record (“Re-make/Re-model,” “Ladytron,” “If There Is Something”). I hope to review Pleasure and Country Life at some point; we already tackled Roxy Music.

All that being said, Stranded features three of Roxy Music’s greatest songs—meaning that they’re among the greatest ever recorded: “Street Life,” “Amazona,” and “Mother Of Pearl.” This is also the first album on which Bryan Ferry didn’t write all of the songs; guitarist Phil Manzanera and saxophonist/oboist Andy Mackay contributed, too. In other news, violinist Eddie Jobson replaced Eno on synth duties, so while Roxy’s music lost some experimental unpredictability, it did gain a technically more adept player.

Let’s talk about those indisputable classics first. “Street Life”—which reached #9 on the British singles chart—rampages in the tradition of mercurial Roxy rockers such as “Do The Strand,” “Editions Of You,” and “Virginia Plain”; it’s a vivid encapsulation of the jittery excitement that hits when moving through a big city that’s bursting with possibilities. Many was the time that I’d play “Street Life” before heading out for a night on the town. Implanted in your brain, the song propels you through urbanscapes with extravagant confidence. Try it and see.

“Amazona” stands as one of Roxy’s towering peaks, benefiting from co-composer Manzanera’s prowess with Latin music modes. It’s also one of the group’s funkiest and sexiest songs, one I never tire of playing in DJ sets. Ferry’s expansive vocal range is on full display, shifting from ornery to über-romantic. Lushly layered, turbulent, and full of surprising dynamics, “Amazona” also stands out because of guest musician Johnny Gustafson’s squelchy bass line and its anomalous, quasi-reggae groove. “Mother Of Pearl” busts out of the gate with an exhilarating urgency, and then 80 seconds in it shifts into the suavest downtempo devotional, as Ferry sings poetically about his long, arduous search for the perfect woman. It’s one of the most dramatic change-ups in their catalog.

The album’s lesser songs have interesting elements, too. On “Just Like You,” Ferry falsettos over a pretty piano- and strings-heavy ballad, raising lilting melodiousness and yearning to high art. The eight-minute, gradually building gospel ballad “Psalm” seems like a sincere hymn to the righteousness of believing in Jesus. So if Ferry’s being facetious, then he’s a persuasive deceiver. Cowritten by Mackay, “A Song For Europe” possesses the momentous gravitas and sweeping drama of “While My Guitar Gently Sleeps.” “Serenade” is an understatedly ebullient tune and utterly elegant in that way Roxy Music could execute in their sleep. This talent was strictly a ’70s British thing. No American artist could pull this off—not even Sparks.

Stranded topped the UK albums chart and peaked at #186 on the US’s, which is as stark a portrait of the two regions’ aesthetic discrepancies as you’ll ever find. Sadly, we yanks sometimes were slow on the uptake. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.

David Bowie “Aladdin Sane” (RCA Victor, 1973)

Aladdin Sane captures David Bowie after US superstardom hit with Ziggy Stardust and a couple of years before his glam-rock phase cross-faded into his soul-man infatuation on Young Americans. It reflects the madness induced by Bowie’s whirlwind success in America and the influence of American music on the chameleonic Englishman. While it’s an uneven album, Aladdin Sane does contain three of his greatest songs… plus a gaudy, unnecessary cover of the Rolling Stones’ 1967 rollicking proposition “Let’s Spend The Night Together,” which should’ve gone on Pinups.

After the opening “Watch That Man,” a standard-issue mid-’70s British glam boogie, Bowie and the Spiders From Mars band—Mick Ronson (guitar), Woody Woodmansey (drums), and Trevor Bolder (bass)—astonish with the title track, a golden anomaly in DB’s vast catalog. It begins like a suave, jazz-adjacent ballad, almost in a Steely Dan vein, but veers into more turbulent zones, as guest pianist Mike Garson soars into hall-of-fame realms with his mercurial, Cecil Taylor-esque improvisations. The song bears one of Bowie’s most sublime melodies and coolest vocal performances, while Bolder provides an über-hypnotic bass line. It’s still hard to believe that this complex avant-rocker received commercial-radio play. Seventies radio programmers, I salute you.

Apparently Mott The Hoople rejected “Drive-In Saturday,” even after scoring big with Bowie’s “All The Young Dudes.” That decision’s sort of understandable, as the logy, faux-doo-wop of “Drive-In Saturday” lacks the sparkle and swaying bonhomie of the previous Bowie offering with which Mott charted. This slight letdown is more than redeemed by “Panic In Detroit.” Bowie’s “Gimme Shelter,” it’s suffused in quasi-apocalyptic dread and aptly frazzled backing vox by Linda Lewis and Juanita “Honey” Franklin. Ronson’s guitar tone is chunky and irritable and Woodmansey’s drumming is appropriately ominous, as Bowie obliquely poeticizes about the Motor City riots of 1967, after Iggy Pop described them to him. Growing up in the Detroit area, I was lucky enough to hear radio DJs play it to death.

“Cracked Actor” increases the fun factor with its fuzzed-out glam rock that swaggers with more menace than T. Rex. Ronson’s guitar tone is crunchier than a vat full of Grape-Nuts. The baroque, drama-school rock of “Time” finds Bowie verging on Queen territory, with Ronson at his most Brian May-like. “Lady Grinning Soul” also gets arty, albeit with Garson filigreeing his ass off on piano. You can imagine Scott Walker or Tim Hardin crooning this morose song. One of the most immediately lovable songs in the rock canon, “The Jean Genie” is an ingenious, glam-stomp revamp of Bo Diddley’s “I’m A Man” riff. I’ve heard “The Jean Genie” hundreds of times and somehow I’m still not sick of it. The refrain of “Let yourself goooo-ew-oh!” feels like the animating spirit of Aladdin Sane, one of Bowie’s more underrated efforts in a decade loaded with classics. -Buckley Mayfield

Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.