Paul Morley writing on Brian Eno Reissues: “In Roxy Music, Bryan Ferry was not likely to ask a headless chicken how much kicking its teeth could stand, as Eno did on this album. Ferry’s discussion topics were a little less random. He would never, ever wonder if his girl prefers him or the guy who can set things on fire by breathing on them, as Eno did. Eno sang on this album, not in the way that Ferry would sing. Eno sang as if it never occurred to him that anyone would ever hear him. He sort of sang to himself, for the sheer hobgoblin hell of it, and to someone he once met in a bar in Madrid who couldn’t hear very well.”

That’s good (and funny) writing. And it’s absolutely fantastic (and funny) music.