PREVIEW/BUY THE CD HERE
Bryan Ferry, never averse to a re-make/re-model (as his lifelong parallel career as a covers-crooner of “ready-mades” has established), has cooked up something completely unexpected and unprecedented here. Not least because he doesn’t sing on it.
Some are only faintly recognisable. His hits and cult items are fashioned as they might have been in the Paris of the Roaring Twenties, or the Gatsby ballrooms of F. Scott Fitzgerald (a poster-boy of doomed romanticism to whom Ferry has never struggled to relate).
A peculiar concept then, with Ferry now, almost Warhol-like, sagely mute to one side while collaborators silkscreen his own icons. As fascinating as it is perplexing, anything but obvious, and therefore to be applauded. — BBC