When Bryan Ferry first began making solo records in 1973, his apparent goal was to forge a path radically different from what he was writing and performing with Roxy Music. So while the group produced utterly original, unconventional music, Ferry perversely made albums of songs by other artists,
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from Dylan to the Beatles to Motown, singing them as if he'd never heard them before.
Ferry eventually dropped the gimmick (though Roxy surprisingly picked it up on occasion) and devoted himself to the band as it became steadily more mainstream. Now that Roxy Music is defunct, Ferry seems determined to keep its sound going on his own. If Boys and Girls resembles a semifunky follow-up to Roxy's 1982 swan song, Avalon, credit the cast of musicians, many of whom contributed to both. Conspicuous by their absence, of course, are Phil Manzanera and Andy Mackay, Ferry's former partners. But three ace guitarists – David Gilmour, Mark Knopfler and Neil Hubbard – are prominently featured, and several tunes have sax work that recalls Mackay's characteristically sinuous sound. Considering the subordinate role Mackay and Manzanera had taken in recent years, Boys and Girls could have been billed as a Roxy Music album, and no one hearing it would have demurred.
Ferry is unquestionably one of the greatest, most influential vocalists of our time. He has also authored numerous brilliant songs. On Boys and Girls, his singing is typically above reproach; his writing, however, is quite another matter. The nine songs (all his, including one collaborative effort) are distressingly short on melody: "Slave to Love," the album's first single, is a worthy – and not dissimilar – successor to Avalon's "More Than This," but "Sensation" and "The Chosen One" are merely adorned one-note grooves over which Ferry meanders in search of a discernible melody. "Windswept" and "Don't Stop the Dance" are skimpy but appealing; the rest of the record is smooth and attractive, but utterly forgettable.
Boys and Girls is instrumentally exquisite, the top-notch players – Nile Rodgers among them – turning in economical, inventive performances deftly orchestrated by Ferry and his coproducer, Rhett Davies, into mild, state-of-the-art dance tracks. The guitar work is especially good, with restrained soloing providing the record's most exciting highlights. There isn't a moment here that doesn't shine with enormous skill, taste, stylishness and artistic integrity. Unfortunately, the flimsy content ultimately makes this record a frustrating exercise. (RS 452-453)
IRA ROBBINS
