MANIFESTO

They're back! Real horrorshow this, as Roxy Music teleports into the disco culture with the head of Bryan Ferry and the body of their old band. Not the ungainly hybrid you might think, although the title track is unpotable to either palette. Better to take "Trash" for instance: maybe a little dryly arranged, but clearly the kin of such kinetic keepers as "Pyjamarama" and "Street Life." At the other end of the East Side, the dark ghosts of For Your Pleasure. linger on "Stronger Through The Years." But Manifesto's most compelling argument comes on the second side (called the West Side), which is a Ferry solo album in all but name. "Cry, Cry, Cry" could well have crawled from the sessions of Let's Stick Together, while "Dance Away" is Bryan's worldview not the band's. Yet, in merging the two halves of his wild muse, Bryan Ferry hits upon a kind of "new romantic" music that applies art rock's intelligence to matters of the heart. Right, that was always part of the Roxy vision, but Manifesto featured a sound that other bands could actually emulate. The suffering young Werthers of the world could aspire to a dreamy and downbeat ballad like "Spin Me Round" or (if they could play their instruments) a jazzed-up oldie like "Angel Eyes." Thus acts like Icehouse, Japan and Ultravox all tore a page or two from Manifesto, and the rest is musical history. Not too many bands could return from the shadows and seem shiny and new all over again, so I say HOORAY for Roxy. (Note that, to these ears, the album never sparkled on vinyl, so I'd spend the extra money and get it on CD.)