Anna Minard claims to "know nothing about music." For this column, we force her to listen to random records by artists considered to be important by music nerds.
For Your Pleasure
The first song on this album, "Do the Strand," makes me think I've accidentally started in the middle of the song every time I hear it, which is why I'm starting right here in the middle of this review. In fact, "Strand" makes me think I've accidentally started in the middle of the soundtrack to a plot-heavy musical. Like a slightly less dirty Rocky Horror spin-off or something. Where are we? At a glam party you'd have killed to be invited to—you'd run and press your nose against the front window glass if you saw it from the street—but somehow, in the middle of the night, you've magically been transported there. To the dance floor! (Thank god you sleep in a sequined minidress, right? Sheesh.)
After discovering that Roxy Music was not, in fact, a promotional CD from that '90s faux-skate shop (also: weird how Lady Gaga is on the cover, right?), I started listening to For Your Pleasure, and at first, I was underwhelmed. When I reported this whelming problem to Dave Segal, who I thought would be sympathetic (he's much less sequined than our music editor, who assigned me the album), he said I should take a weekend to "reassess [my] erroneous initial impressions." Schooled!
I listened to it more and tried to party harder. It got better. I also did my research, and I found a secret weapon: Brian fucking Eno worked on this album. He probably interlaced it with weird messages I wasn't receiving. I adjusted my frequency.
And while it starts in the middle of a party, it goes to weird planets, too—"The Bogus Man" is a strange Martian jazz hole and adequately scary. It all really does sound like a musical, and if someone hasn't already proposed that idea, I'll be shocked. "Grey Lagoons" is for a montage scene; "Bogus Man" is set in space—maybe the main character is an alien or an astronaut? Yeah, an alien who falls in love with an astronaut and comes to Earth to find him/her! The alien should be androgynous and unstoppably charismatic. That way there can be parties, space travel, and contemplative moments—"Strictly Confidential" would be the climax where the alien has to tell the astronaut the truth. (After they already boned, duh.) Oh oh oh—because other aliens are coming to DESTROY EARTH. Man, now that the story's coming together, listening to this album kind of chokes me up, no joke.
And you're welcome for the idea, Hollywood! I'll take that $1,000,000 check anytime.
I give this a "sexy aliens need to dance, too" out of 10.