brent johnson digs up a lost treasure in response to pop-break’s review of the new collaboration from Metallica and Lou Reed …
I’ve heard only one track off Lulu, the bizarre, polarizing collaboration between Metallica and Lou Reed. And no, I wasn’t impressed. It sounds a lot like what you’d expect: nasal ranting over a mash of loud riffs.
But I do know this: My Pop-Break co-founder Bill Bodkin hates the album. He really, really hates it. Check out his passionate review. You’ll laugh. You’ll cry. You’ll laugh again.
And if you’re a Lou Reed fan, you might get angry.
I respect Bill’s opinion. And I understand why some people don’t like Lou Reed. Can he sing? Not really. Is his music consistent? Not always. But his best moments are sublime.
As the leader of The Velvet Underground in the late 1960s, Reed penned grimy, taboo lyrics about sex and drugs. He made New York seem hip even to those who long for a shower after visiting. He managed to create catchy pop seeping through a bed of atonal noise. In other words, Lou Reed helped invent alternative rock.
The Velvets were the reason David Bowie and the members of Roxy Music became artists. As Roxy keyboardist Brian Eno said, ‘The first Velvet Underground album only sold 10,000 copies, but everyone who bought it formed a band.’ They challenged listeners to like something strange, something unknown. And that’s a rare thing to pull off. Just ask Radiohead.
But if you’re still not convinced, just buy Transformer, Reed’s 1972 foray into glam rock. It was produced by Bowie, an artist whose gift for pop and whimsy suits Reed a lot better than Metallica. Together, they created one of the landmark records of the 1970s, filled with wacky lyrical couplets, subtly soaring backing vocals, glitzy blues-rock, orchestral pop …
… and one of the most thrilling Top 20 singles of all time: ‘Walk On The Wild Side.’ Bill said it sucks. And one of the beautiful things about music is that different people can hear different things. But often, truly great music is about walking the tight rope between being daring and detailed. And I challenge anyone to find another hit single about transvestites that has a jazz bassline, a chorus of pretty female voices and a punchy saxophone solo.
But no song on Transformer defines Lou Reed quite like ‘Andy’s Chest.’ It’s a charmingly whacked-out love song to Andy Warhol, the pop-art icon and former Velvet Underground manager.
I once heard someone in a documentary say that Reed is one of the few songwriters whose lyrics can be removed from the music and read as pure poetry. Indeed …
ANDY’S CHEST
By Lou Reed
If I could be anything in the world that flew
I would be a bat and come swooping after you
And if the last time you were here, things were a bit askew
Well, you know what happens after dark
When rattlesnakes lose their skins and their hearts
And all the missionaries lose their bark
Oh, all the trees are calling after you
And all the venom snipers after you
Are all the mountains bolder after you?
If I could be anyone of the things in this world that bite
Instead of an ocelot on a leash, I’d rather be a kite
And be tied to the end of your string
And flying in the air, babe, at night
‘Cause you know what they say about honey bears
When you shave off all their baby hair
You have a hairy-minded pink bare bear
And all the balls are rolling out for you
And stones are all erupting out for you
And all the cheap bloodsuckers are flying after you
Yesterday, Daisy Mae and Biff were grooving on the street
And just like in a movie, her hands became her feet
Her belly button was her mouth
Which meant she tasted what she’d speak
But the funny thing is what happened to her nose
It grew until it reached all of her toes
Now when people say her feet, they mean her nose
And curtains laced with diamonds, dear, for you
And all the Roman Noblemen for you
And kingdom’s Christian Soldiers, dear, for you
And melting ice-cap mountain tops for you
And knights in flaming silver robes for you
And bats that with a kiss turn prince for you
Swoop, swoop
Oh baby, rock, rock
Swoop, swoop
Rock, rock