"Barry Ryan... Barry Ryan... Uhm, this name is not new to me, I'm sure I've come across something else by him before, but what?" Right, now I remember, "Eloise"! At the time, the original sounded a bit heavy, dated, less brilliant than the sumptuous cover by The Damned, so I didn't delve further into it. So, who made me retrace my steps and urged me to investigate the Ryan brothers? Well, yes, once again Marc Almond, and once again that blessed "Stardom Road". Just to be clear, the album that introduced me to Al Stewart, the very first David Bowie and, through a duet with Sarah Cracknell, also Saint Etienne. Therefore, if Marc delivers a commanding and dazzling "Kitsch," I absolutely cannot remain inert, it's duty calling.

Paul and Barry's story is emblematic and fascinating in its own way, and their music, now from another era, still arouses interest and positive feelings: not just "Eloise" and "Kitsch", I'm sure I've heard "Baby I'm Sorry" and "Heartbreaker" somewhere before, singles with a decidedly beat essence whose evergreen melodies echo more strongly than the names of their interpreters. But let’s proceed in order: Paul and Barry Ryan are twin brothers, children of art since their mother Marion was a fairly successful singer in the '50s, and they debuted as a duo in 1965, establishing themselves immediately as "minor" protagonists of the British invasion years. After a few years, Paul Ryan stepped back, preferring to work as a songwriter and producer for his brother Barry, who thus began a solo career that did not take him very far: he kicked off with "Eloise", but his inability to break completely away from the beat roots and a pop orchestration that year after year gradually lost its grip on the public caused him to slip further into the background, until a gradual and silent exit from the music biz.

With the early career singles, it’s straightforward but also reliable, a bit of cheeky easy-listening pop-beat, quite enjoyable from time to time; trumpets, bright voices, well-presented and packaged melodies; stuff that if you played it to the passerby, their reaction would most likely be something like "The Beatles are awesome!". "Baby Don't Cry" and "Heartbreaker" but also "Don't Bring Me Your Heartaches", the heavily orchestrated "Missy Missy" and "Claire"; the country-American influences of "Can't Let You Go" and the sitar of "Pictures Of Today", also show good adaptability in following the various trends of the moment. In short, there are quite a few simple and pleasant episodes, the dimension of Paul and Barry Ryan was that, with that style and that register they expressed themselves perfectly, almost like a sure success; when trying to raise the bar a bit, it brings both joys and sorrows. The original "Eloise" undoubtedly has a baroque charm, almost like an epic-medieval poem, which does not leave one indifferent, the problem is that it seems written specifically for a theatrical and stentorian voice like that of Dave Vanian, the capable Barry cannot hold up to the comparison and slightly dulls the intensity of the piece; "Kitsch", on the other hand, is perfect as it is, a sumptuous and charismatic proto-glam anthem that didn't get the resonance it deserved perhaps because it was released in 1970, a year when all that orchestral pomp and splendor already began to sound dated, and glam rock properly speaking already had fresher interpreters "fitting the role".

However, these 2.0 Ryan brothers are not always so effective; indeed, I could say with relative certainty that those two big singles were mere flashes in the pan, since the not exactly memorable ballad "I'm Sorry Susan" sounds like an utterly ordinary song from the uninspired Bee Gees of the early '70s; "The Hunt", "Madrigal", and "I Love How You Love Me", despite appealing choices like the use of harpsichord and bagpipes, are heavily penalized by inconsistent songwriting that remained too anchored to old styles to evolve with full effect and credibility. Despite these limitations, I'm still pleased to have picked up this yet another precious recommendation, it was a pleasant and also educational experience; after all, it’s still history, undoubtedly minor but interesting and worthy of being remembered and explored.

Loading comments  slowly