Music Blog

Sultry Rhythm Redefined

This is Week 39 of Glyn’s Mixed Music Bag and we are
being asked to choose a song by a group or solo artist whose
name begins with the letters Q or R. This is my choice.

Roxy Music became a successful act in Europe and Australia during the 1970s with the success of their 1972 self-titled debut studio album. The band was formed in England in 1970 by Bryan Ferry … who became the lead vocalist and principal songwriter … and bassist Graham Simpson. The other longtime members are Phil Manzanera (guitar), Andy Mackay (saxophone and oboe), and Paul Thompson (drums and percussion). Other members included Brian Eno (synthesizer and “treatments“) and Eddie Jobson (synthesizer and violin).

In 2011, Roxy Music played a series of 40th-anniversary shows and in 2019, was inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. In 2022, the group re-formed for a tour to mark the 50th anniversary of their debut studio album.

My featured song today is “Avalon” from their final studio album of the same name; it was certified Platinum in the United States on December 2, 1992 … exactly ten years after its release in 1982.

On the cover photo of the album Avalon, we see the back of a knight’s helmet; resting on his hand is a falcon. They look out over clouds and what seems like the rising sun to a strip of land in the distance – a goal so prized it might as well be Avalon, the paradise where the knight could find rest. And comfort. Even, perhaps, love.

Bryan Ferry was always a ladies man, that is, a man who lived for love. The dark suit, the white shirt, the hair cut just so across the forehead. It’s all atmosphere, all sensuality. The ethereal saxophone. The rhythm that redefined “sultry”.

This is “Avalon” by Roxy Music.

Lyrics

Now the party’s over, I’m so tired
Then I see you coming, out of nowhere
Much communication, in a motion
Without conversation, or a notion

Avalon

When the samba takes you, out of nowhere
With the background fading, out of focus
Yes the picture’s changing, every moment
And your destination, you don’t know it

Avalon

When you bossa nova, there’s no holding
But you have me dancing, out of nowhere

Avalon

Avalon
(Ooh, ooh, yeah)
Avalon
Avalon (Ooh)
Avalon (Ooh)
Avalon (Ooh)
Avalon (Ooh)

Avalon (Ooh)
Avalon
Avalon
Avalon (Ooh)
Avalon

Source: Musixmatch
Songwriters: Bryan Ferry
Avalon lyrics © BMG Rights Management (UK) Limited

Big thanks to Glyn for hosting Mixed Music Bag every week. Please be sure to follow the link and check out Glyn’s site.

Thanks for joining me today and spinning some tunes.

See you on the flip side. 😎

NAR©2024

All text, graphics and videos are copyright for The Sicilian Storyteller, The Elephant’s Trunk and The Rhythm Section and are not to be used without permission. NAR©2017-present.

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THE BUTCHER BOY

Dangerous was too tame a word to describe Lyle Benson; no, he was treacherous, savage, vicious and murderous – but you’d never know by looking at him.

Lyle was one of those men blessed with movie star good looks and a silver tongue which the ladies found charming and irresistible. He also had a photographic memory and had acquired a broad knowledge covering many different topics. He was what women called ‘a keeper’; problem was any lady who hooked up with Lyle Benson was never seen again.

Just a flunkey, Lyle learned the tricks of the trade by working for crime lord George “Bugs” Moran, Al Capone’s primary rival. Moran was so sadistic he once kidnapped and mutilated a bodyguard of Capone’s, then mailed back what little was left.

Watching Moran in action always got Lyle’s engine revving. In a salacious frenzy, he’d hunt down some sweet innocent. He’d impress her with his wit and savoir faire. Lyle would tell her he was a doctor, his black bag always by his side. He’d wine and dine her, then drive to his secluded cabin where he’d unhurriedly butcher her until she pleaded for death. Only then as she gasped her last breath could the butcher boy get an erection. Only then could he have an orgasm.

But Lyle also had a compassionate side. He’d regularly send flowers to his catatonic mother and sister, residents in a Canadian asylum. He never could bring himself to kill them but a boy had to start somewhere.

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