Like too many other stars, Bryan Ferry has cancelled his 2021 tour… until next time, this immaculate live album is the next best thing
Bryan Ferry Royal Albert Hall 2020 Out now
Last week the Royal Albert Hall turned 150. Never mind the classics, it has become a fabulous pop venue. Its rich history goes particularly well with rock’s elder statesmen.
The last proper gig I went to was there: Bryan Ferry, March 2020 – another time, another place.
I took my sister and we talked about the grim news from Italy. We melted into the crowd of 5,000, swaying and singing. There was even an after-party, though we didn’t see Ferry – perhaps he was wary of catching something.
We melted into the crowd of 5,000, swaying and singing. There was even an after-party, though we didn’t see Bryan Ferry (above) – perhaps he was wary of catching something
That show is now a live album, with all proceeds going to Ferry’s band and crew. In lockdown, live albums have found their niche. Once a frustrating form, neither one thing nor the other, they’re now a remembrance of things past and a flickering sign of things to come.
The first noise you hear is the roar of the crowd, crashing into the room like an old friend. Not for nothing is the opening track The Thrill Of It All. Vaulting from the mid-1970s to 2010, Ferry follows it with You Can Dance – a surprise choice at the time, and a visionary one in retrospect.
Listening to it now, I’m dancing at my desk.
One problem with live albums past was that the sound tended to be either rough or blatantly airbrushed. These days it’s both crisper and more convincing. Ferry’s voice, which can be whispery on stage, rings out soft and clear.
On Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right, he tempers the abrasive genius of the young Bob Dylan with a 74-year-old’s tenderness. Another thing live albums cannot do is capture the visual side of live performance.
This is less of a problem for Ferry, whose grandstanding these days largely consists of a bashful wave of a long arm in a bespoke suit.
Recollecting the show in tranquillity, you can savour the ingredients – Neil Jason’s slinky bass, Chris Spedding’s crunchy riffs, Jorja Chalmers’ breezy sax, and the dreamy backing vocals from Bobbie Oldham, Hannah Khemoh and Aleysha Lei.
If your spine doesn’t tingle when Oldham hits the high notes on Avalon, you may need to see an osteopath.
Nine of the 19 songs hark back to 1972-74, when Roxy Music were a blur of ingenuity. From later on, when Ferry added more heart to his art, there’s an exhilarating Limbo, an aching Make You Feel My Love and a deliciously sorrowful Dance Away.
Like too many other stars, Ferry has cancelled his 2021 tour. Until next time, this immaculate document is the next best thing.