Having designed Roxy Music as an haute couture suit hand-stitched of
punk and progressive music, Bryan Ferry redesigned it. He made Roxy
Music ever dreamier and mellower-reaching back to sadly beautiful
chivalric romances. Dadaist (punk) noise exited; a kind of ambient soft
soul entered. Ferry parted ways with Eno, electric violinist Eddie
Jobson, and drummer Paul Thompson, foreswearing the broken-sounding
synthesizers played by kitchen utensils, the chance-based elements, and
the maquillage of previous albums.
The production and engineering imposed on Avalon confiscates emotion
and replaces it with an acoustic simulacrum of courtliness, polished
manners, and codes of etiquette. The seducer sings seductive music about
seduction, but decorum is retained, as amour courtois insists.
The backbeat cannot beat back nostalgia; it remains part of the
architecture of Avalon, an album that creates an allusive sheen. Be
nostalgic, by all means, but embrace that feeling's falseness, because
nostalgia-whether inspired by medieval Arthuriana or 1940s film noir
repartee or a 1980s drug-induced high-deceives. Nostalgia defines our
fantasies and our (not Ferry's) essential artifice.