Roxy Music "Avalon" [1982]

I always thought this band should be called "Smedley & the Velvet Suits," as "Roxy Music" implies an entire genre, which would be laughable if it weren't so scary to consider. Cloyingly pompous as only the Brits can be (disregarding the French, who would mostly rather be chefs anyway), "Avalon" represents Roxy Music's ultimate achievement the way Steely Dan's "Aja" does (and makes you want to smash your head through the glass coffee table with the lines of coke still on it). This album makes you want to kill yourself in the middle of a slow dance with a girl wearing big, crunchy hair. All the voices and instruments here sound like they're covered in Vaseline, with Bryan Ferry's ("Smedley"'s) romantic odes about as deep as the sheet of paper on which he dashed off his lyrics. If you can fake the aesthetic as callously as Ferry can, feel free to scoop up all the 80's-style tramps you can get your hands on. Otherwise I'd advise you wash the scent of Canoe off yourself before you do something drastic.