I still hold a bit of a grudge about Bryan Ferry's star-orbit departure from Roxy Music, but with In Your Mind he's gone a long way to make amends—it's by far his best solo album, and at its peaks there are indications that Ferry may well be able to pull the existential wool over the eyes of the rock audience without his steely former sidemen.
Your Mind recalls
Siren, Roxy's instrumentally steaming last album. Ferry has rounded the musical edges considerably, using female voices instead of his own overdubs, a full horn section as opposed to Andy Mackay's space sax, and deftly woven Beatlesque strings in lieu of Edwin Jobson's electric violin. In conception, though, the songs reveal their pedigree: "This Is Tomorrow," which opens with the social sound effects of "Love Is the Drug," bounces with the earlier song's jagged beat; "All Night Operator" spins out its cylindrical rhythms much like
Siren's "Both Ends Burning."
In lieu of Roxy Music's streamlined electric approach, Ferry has aimed for a more homogenized studio sound. If the results aren't as otherworldly as the best Roxy, the songs retain an eccentric if more subtle edge. "Love Me Madly Again" spins its web of romantic angst with a beautifully taut bass line, while "Tokyo Joe" establishes its cheesy environment with a bumping rhythm and Oriental colorings. Above it all, Ferry's voice floats with his characteristically detached crooning delivery; though these less threatening musical surroundings let Ferry shed some of his brittle cynicism, he is still the chairman of the bored.
Like the heroine of "Party Doll," Ferry finds it necessary to withdraw into himself when the world outside becomes too much to handle. From that shelter he can see his loving attempts as foibles ("All Night Operator") as well as the futility of the whole process ("In Your Mind"). But most of all, what Bryan Ferry sees is a more commercial way to bring a most unconventional pop perspective to a wider audience. If In Your Mind doesn't sport the twin-edged blade of prime Roxy Music, that doesn't mean it doesn't bleed. (RS 240)
JOHN MILWARD
