Could never get into Roxy Music. Ferry's voice, and the sound at large, is so willfully disonnant and difficult it felt like work to listen to, and there was never anything quite interesting enought going on underneath to justify it. In this post-Eno era at least there aren't experimental squiggles joining the alienation effort, and the song structures are still unpredictable and still operate at inventive angles, and there's a wavering, funhousemirror self-doubt that's relatable and engaging we uncertain souls, and and and and and
And yet, the actual songs are just too overt in their moves, too fussy with gestures, too full of "ands"; they distract from themselves again and again until you're not really sure what you're listening to, nor why you should care 2.5/5
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