Roxy Music 50th Anniversary Concert. Chase Center. September 26, 2022
This will be cross-posted to both Facebook and Tumbler.
I could write a straight-up review. Tell you I had the usual mixture of anticipation to see and hear Bryan, but also the fear and anxiety that it wouldn’t be everything I wanted, that something would go wrong, that my “date” wouldn’t be as into it as I was. Or just the fact that I always build up such a head of steam that nothing could ever be quite enough, but that just seeing Bryan Ferry is an amazing experience.
So for the “just the facts, maam” bit, The Chase Center was the closest to my front door venue since the Warfield on the Frantic tour back in 2002. Following a lovely light dinner at Limon, Lord David and I were able to hop the 22 Fillmore and be dropped off directly in front of the venue. Lord David was if possible, more into some parts of the early Roxy repertoire that I was. (The Bogus Man has never been my favorite song.) They hit all the expected high-lights starting with Re-Make, ReModel and finishing with Do The Strand. I was surprised and a little disappointed not to get Virginia Plain or Jealous Guy as the penultimate songs and disappointed, but not at all surprised that we didn’t get Street Life or Same Old Scene. (I’m sure the feeling is that Dance Away sort of makes Same Old Scene superfluous, ditto Editions of You for Street life.)
It was a thril to see Andy McKay and Phil Manzanera rocking out, taking solos and getting the crowd’s adoration. Bryan’s usual sax player on his solo tours, Jorja Chalmers was also present, but if she was giving Andy any back-up, it was unobtrusive. The Great Paul Thompson on drums with (look up) as a secondary percussionist gave us a pretty good roar, although not quite the power of the High Road Tour (at least as it came across on the VHS that I nearly killed myself to get on a rainy night in Totawa, NJ in 1983 or so. I’m not sure the guard rail I hit on Route 46 ever recovered.)
The vibe at the Chase Center was very much a love fest for the band and their history, even though it was a huge venue compared to every other place I’ve seen Bryan or Roxy. The 2000 Reunion tour played the freakin’ Concord Pavilion.
The seats weren’t terrible by stadium standards and the screens gave us access to close-ups of Bryan, Phil and Andy at key moments along with various imagery including older videos, animations, clips of relevant old movies and just an approximation of an older light. Not as intensely done as the ones in the Bowie documentary, “Moonage Daydream,” which I saw four days afterwards. Very effective during my personal highlight, “In Every Dream Home A Heartache,” which mixed and matched the creepy clips with the close-ups of Bryan singing and you could really feel the tension building up until the big audience participation release of “But you blew my mind!” (Slight quibble: note to all montagists going for creepy, can we have a moratorium on Un Chien Andalou? If I have to see that blade going for the eyeball one more time… It’s like using the opening of “Gimme shelter” to say “something bad is about to happen. Yeah, I get it!)
In terms of pacing, I’d have cut the LONG solos on Tara and My Only Love (Sorry Phil and Andy) which just felt like filler, but may also have a chance for rest of the band or the lead singer to lay out a bit. Which brings us to….
So, the thing, the reason I go to these concerts, the man I bombard all my social media with pictures of, the guy I’ve have this yearning, burning, burning feeling inside (no cranberry juice jokes, please) for all these years.
Mr. Bryan Ferry CBE.
I love him with every fiber of my fangirl being. He’s still a great singer and a great showman. The charm and presence are still there. However, the man is now 77 (as of Monday) and he no longer looks like the pictures I post and the voice is not the same either. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s OK, sometimes it’s great….and sometimes it’s just sad. During particular songs, Fonzi Thornton and the two female back-ups are doing a lot of work to make up for the sound (especially on the songs from Avalon and “My Only Love.”) The only time I felt it was really hard for Bryan to sing and for me to listen to was “To Turn You On,” where his voice was barely audible and I felt like it was pitched way too low, compared to the original.
This is where my musings turned to late period Sinatra and how much this presentation was a deliberate choice by Mr. Ferry, who is known for many things, but not being an especially spontaneous performer. For example, he made one reference to it being his birthday, but there was no break for a mass sing of Happy Birthday or anything. On one hand, it was the next to last show of the US leg of the tour and they’d played a lot of back-to-back dates across North America, so it’s possible his voice was just that tired and he just decided to roll with it. But keeping the song in a lower key and not having the back-up singers sweetening the mix struck me as very deliberate.
“To Turn You On” isn’t a ballad, but it is a gorgeous mid-tempo song of longing and passion, both to the human subject that Bryan might be addressing and to the city of New York, as it might have been romanticized by Bryan growing up in 50’s England (clips of Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse from the Dancing In The Dark number from The Bandwagon) and the New York of the late 70’s/early 80’s with all the decadence and glamor that would entail. It’s not impossible to imagine the same Sinatra who released Trilogy in 1980 and recorded “A Man Alone” with lyrics by Rod McKuen in 1969, giving it a go.
(I’m not going to get into a “Golden Throats” argument about the merits of Sinatra and others of that era taking on the works of the rock-era singer-songwriters. Perry Como’s “And I Love Her So” speaks for itself.)
Frank Sinatra was 63 when I saw him at Carnegie Hall on June 14, 1980. New York, New York was a huge hit, Trilogy was on the Album charts, and the energy in the room was amazing. I was 15. I had no idea who Bryan Ferry was, but I was heavily in love with Frank Sinatra. (This is where a whole other essay is in the making.) My father took me to the show, and it stands as one of the most amazing live performance experiences of my life.
Mr. Sinatra was still very much the Chairman of the Board, but the voice was not that of the Big Band era, or the Capital Years or even the mid-60's. It was the voice of a man who had (as a song he apparently didn’t particularly like the lyrics of said) “lived a life that’s full.” It was the voice of a smoker and a drinker, but it didn’t matter. He had the showmanship, the technique, the passion. If he never wanted to hear or sing My Way again, none of it came through in the performance, and when he did “New York, New York” as the encore, you expected the actual roof to come off. The excitement, the connection between performer and audience, the love and the willingness of Mr. Sinatra to be vocally vulnerable on some of the ballads, such as “Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out To Dry,” was a reminder of why he had been the bobbysoxer’s heart throb of the 40’s before assuming the brash persona of the later eras.
It was the only time I saw him live. He went on performing until 1995. Clips I’ve heard from later concerts underscore the same points. A diminished instrument, but a consummate professional in control of everything to the extent that the diminishment is part of the performance and I believe there’s an element of this is in Bryan’s performances now. Hence, I’m willing to wager that the way I heard “To Turn You On” on Monday night is precisely what Mr. Ferry had in mind.
Especially because from there on Bryan’s voice sounded fine (possibly with the assistance of the back-up team) and the energy kicked into overdrive with “Dance Away,” “More Than This,” “Avalon,” Love Is The Drug,” “Editions of You,” and “Do The Strand.” All superbly done and as satisfying and ending to the evening as could be imagined. (I never really saw the point of ending with “Jealous Guy.”)
If he chooses to call it quits after this and I don’t get to see him live again, I’ll be ok with it. On the other hand, if he does another solo tour (and it doesn’t require getting to Bum Fuck Egypt a/k/a Saratoga) I’m there….while my heart is still beating.
I could write a straight-up review. Tell you I had the usual mixture of anticipation to see and hear Bryan, but also the fear and anxiety that it wouldn’t be everything I wanted, that something would go wrong, that my “date” wouldn’t be as into it as I was. Or just the fact that I always build up such a head of steam that nothing could ever be quite enough, but that just seeing Bryan Ferry is an amazing experience.
So for the “just the facts, maam” bit, The Chase Center was the closest to my front door venue since the Warfield on the Frantic tour back in 2002. Following a lovely light dinner at Limon, Lord David and I were able to hop the 22 Fillmore and be dropped off directly in front of the venue. Lord David was if possible, more into some parts of the early Roxy repertoire that I was. (The Bogus Man has never been my favorite song.) They hit all the expected high-lights starting with Re-Make, ReModel and finishing with Do The Strand. I was surprised and a little disappointed not to get Virginia Plain or Jealous Guy as the penultimate songs and disappointed, but not at all surprised that we didn’t get Street Life or Same Old Scene. (I’m sure the feeling is that Dance Away sort of makes Same Old Scene superfluous, ditto Editions of You for Street life.)
It was a thril to see Andy McKay and Phil Manzanera rocking out, taking solos and getting the crowd’s adoration. Bryan’s usual sax player on his solo tours, Jorja Chalmers was also present, but if she was giving Andy any back-up, it was unobtrusive. The Great Paul Thompson on drums with (look up) as a secondary percussionist gave us a pretty good roar, although not quite the power of the High Road Tour (at least as it came across on the VHS that I nearly killed myself to get on a rainy night in Totawa, NJ in 1983 or so. I’m not sure the guard rail I hit on Route 46 ever recovered.)
The vibe at the Chase Center was very much a love fest for the band and their history, even though it was a huge venue compared to every other place I’ve seen Bryan or Roxy. The 2000 Reunion tour played the freakin’ Concord Pavilion.
The seats weren’t terrible by stadium standards and the screens gave us access to close-ups of Bryan, Phil and Andy at key moments along with various imagery including older videos, animations, clips of relevant old movies and just an approximation of an older light. Not as intensely done as the ones in the Bowie documentary, “Moonage Daydream,” which I saw four days afterwards. Very effective during my personal highlight, “In Every Dream Home A Heartache,” which mixed and matched the creepy clips with the close-ups of Bryan singing and you could really feel the tension building up until the big audience participation release of “But you blew my mind!” (Slight quibble: note to all montagists going for creepy, can we have a moratorium on Un Chien Andalou? If I have to see that blade going for the eyeball one more time… It’s like using the opening of “Gimme shelter” to say “something bad is about to happen. Yeah, I get it!)
In terms of pacing, I’d have cut the LONG solos on Tara and My Only Love (Sorry Phil and Andy) which just felt like filler, but may also have a chance for rest of the band or the lead singer to lay out a bit. Which brings us to….
So, the thing, the reason I go to these concerts, the man I bombard all my social media with pictures of, the guy I’ve have this yearning, burning, burning feeling inside (no cranberry juice jokes, please) for all these years.
Mr. Bryan Ferry CBE.
I love him with every fiber of my fangirl being. He’s still a great singer and a great showman. The charm and presence are still there. However, the man is now 77 (as of Monday) and he no longer looks like the pictures I post and the voice is not the same either. Sometimes it’s good, sometimes it’s OK, sometimes it’s great….and sometimes it’s just sad. During particular songs, Fonzi Thornton and the two female back-ups are doing a lot of work to make up for the sound (especially on the songs from Avalon and “My Only Love.”) The only time I felt it was really hard for Bryan to sing and for me to listen to was “To Turn You On,” where his voice was barely audible and I felt like it was pitched way too low, compared to the original.
This is where my musings turned to late period Sinatra and how much this presentation was a deliberate choice by Mr. Ferry, who is known for many things, but not being an especially spontaneous performer. For example, he made one reference to it being his birthday, but there was no break for a mass sing of Happy Birthday or anything. On one hand, it was the next to last show of the US leg of the tour and they’d played a lot of back-to-back dates across North America, so it’s possible his voice was just that tired and he just decided to roll with it. But keeping the song in a lower key and not having the back-up singers sweetening the mix struck me as very deliberate.
“To Turn You On” isn’t a ballad, but it is a gorgeous mid-tempo song of longing and passion, both to the human subject that Bryan might be addressing and to the city of New York, as it might have been romanticized by Bryan growing up in 50’s England (clips of Fred Astaire and Cyd Charisse from the Dancing In The Dark number from The Bandwagon) and the New York of the late 70’s/early 80’s with all the decadence and glamor that would entail. It’s not impossible to imagine the same Sinatra who released Trilogy in 1980 and recorded “A Man Alone” with lyrics by Rod McKuen in 1969, giving it a go.
(I’m not going to get into a “Golden Throats” argument about the merits of Sinatra and others of that era taking on the works of the rock-era singer-songwriters. Perry Como’s “And I Love Her So” speaks for itself.)
Frank Sinatra was 63 when I saw him at Carnegie Hall on June 14, 1980. New York, New York was a huge hit, Trilogy was on the Album charts, and the energy in the room was amazing. I was 15. I had no idea who Bryan Ferry was, but I was heavily in love with Frank Sinatra. (This is where a whole other essay is in the making.) My father took me to the show, and it stands as one of the most amazing live performance experiences of my life.
Mr. Sinatra was still very much the Chairman of the Board, but the voice was not that of the Big Band era, or the Capital Years or even the mid-60's. It was the voice of a man who had (as a song he apparently didn’t particularly like the lyrics of said) “lived a life that’s full.” It was the voice of a smoker and a drinker, but it didn’t matter. He had the showmanship, the technique, the passion. If he never wanted to hear or sing My Way again, none of it came through in the performance, and when he did “New York, New York” as the encore, you expected the actual roof to come off. The excitement, the connection between performer and audience, the love and the willingness of Mr. Sinatra to be vocally vulnerable on some of the ballads, such as “Guess I’ll Hang My Tears Out To Dry,” was a reminder of why he had been the bobbysoxer’s heart throb of the 40’s before assuming the brash persona of the later eras.
It was the only time I saw him live. He went on performing until 1995. Clips I’ve heard from later concerts underscore the same points. A diminished instrument, but a consummate professional in control of everything to the extent that the diminishment is part of the performance and I believe there’s an element of this is in Bryan’s performances now. Hence, I’m willing to wager that the way I heard “To Turn You On” on Monday night is precisely what Mr. Ferry had in mind.
Especially because from there on Bryan’s voice sounded fine (possibly with the assistance of the back-up team) and the energy kicked into overdrive with “Dance Away,” “More Than This,” “Avalon,” Love Is The Drug,” “Editions of You,” and “Do The Strand.” All superbly done and as satisfying and ending to the evening as could be imagined. (I never really saw the point of ending with “Jealous Guy.”)
If he chooses to call it quits after this and I don’t get to see him live again, I’ll be ok with it. On the other hand, if he does another solo tour (and it doesn’t require getting to Bum Fuck Egypt a/k/a Saratoga) I’m there….while my heart is still beating.