There are two headlines for
Olympia,
Bryan Ferry’s 13th solo album. The first is that it’s
Ferry’s first collection of primarily original material since 1994’s
Mamouna -- of the ten songs only
Tim Buckley's “Song to the Siren” and
Traffic's "No Face, No Name, No Number" are from another author -- the second is that among the many collaborators here are
Brian Eno,
Phil Manzanera, and
Andy MacKay, all original members of
Roxy Music, their presence suggesting a return to the chilly art of
Roxy’s earliest records. Neither headline tells the real story:
Olympia is
Ferry’s most seductive album since
Avalon, a luxurious collection of softly stylized sophistication. Instead of pushing into new territory,
Ferry focuses on refinement, polishing his signatures -- primarily songs so slow they seem to float, and also the occasional high-end piece of pristine pop-funk -- until they’re seamless, the textures shifting so subtly that when the chorus of “Heartache by Numbers” turns eerie, the change in atmosphere is almost subliminal. Such command of mood is a tell-tale sign of a quiet perfectionist, but
Olympia doesn’t feel fussy; it’s unruffled and casually elegant, its pleasing familiarity reflecting the persistence of an old master honing his craft.
