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Ferry at the Tower, clicking into place

If British-based music has ever had a cult figure with a following to match, it's Bryan Ferry. Since 1971, when he formed the avant-glam Roxy Music, Ferry has stood for art rock-'n'-rhythm of the highest order, his couturier's smooth sophistication and fa

Bryan Ferry played to a packed theater on Friday, performing Roxy Music and solo hits with a young ensemble whose members matched his magic. ISAAC FERRY
Bryan Ferry played to a packed theater on Friday, performing Roxy Music and solo hits with a young ensemble whose members matched his magic. ISAAC FERRYRead more

If British-based music has ever had a cult figure with a following to match, it's Bryan Ferry. Since 1971, when he formed the avant-glam Roxy Music, Ferry has stood for art rock-'n'-rhythm of the highest order, his couturier's smooth sophistication and fashion-forwardness matching his aesthetics' empirical nature. With a solo career that ran alongside Roxy's (and long after - his Avonmore is due in November), Ferry's lizardy baritone croon and eerily romantic music became seduction's weird sound track, a sexily sinister take on Sinatra's Songs for Swinging Lovers.

Philadelphians have adored all things Ferry from the start, and Saturday was no different as he packed the Tower Theater, thrilling devotees with Roxy hits and solo smashes despite the lingering effects of a throat infection that led him to cancel dates preceding the Upper Darby run.

Complaints? OK, Ferry sounded strained in spots, his deep voice hesitant while hitting its usual quaver during the groovy "Kiss and Tell" and the angular, signature Roxy songs "Re-Make/Re-Model" and the tangoing "Ladytron." Bounding onstage, loosening his tie, still a rake at 69, he stood out before his band, a young, underdressed ensemble (guitarists in T-shirts? the horror!) who played like School of Rock grads doing their thesis on Roxy with rote reproduction of its trademark squiggles.

Then a funny thing happened: The blueprint became freely canonical and the players magical, especially soprano saxophonist Jorja Chalmers and drummer Cherisse Osei. Chalmers' snake-charming tone during "Casanova" gave Ferry's vocal the cue for slithering, while Osei's triple-fill, tribal rhythm on "Love is the Drug" opened the singer to lurid lows.

An exquisite keyboardist, Ferry did a smashing Korla Pandit imitation during his organ solo on the energetic, expressionistic "Editions of You." His finest moments, however, came at odd points, like the haute-hillbilly "If There is Something," the country-ish twanging "Take a Chance on Me," and the jittery samba "Loop de Li."

Better still was the quietude of "Johnny and Mary," a cover of Robert Palmer's robo-dance hit on Avonmore; a mostly acoustic version of "More Than This," and "Can't Let Go," a spare song from The Bride Stripped Bare (which Ferry reminded Philadelphians resides in the Art Museum's Marcel Duchamp room).

These smooth, soft, salted-caramel songs gave Ferry's baritone room to breathe and tease.