At a time when the price of concert tickets is rising sharply and public demand is shrinking, a number of veteran artists have sought to make their shows seem more like events by performing one of their more celebrated albums in full as part of the concert, with the All Tomorrow's Parties and Pitchfork music festivals making this gambit a regular part of their annual programming. Lou Reed is an old hand at this game -- when New York was released in 1989, Reed performed the album in full and in sequence each evening on tour, and he followed suit for the shows supporting 1992's Magic and Loss. But it was a collaboration with artist and director Julian Schnabel rather than anything so crass as economics that prompted Reed to revisit his 1973 concept album Berlin for a series of multimedia concerts, with Reed and his band joined by a vocal chorus (including guest singers Antony and Sharon Jones) and a small orchestra directed by Bob Ezrin, who arranged and produced the original album. Schnabel filmed two of the Berlin concerts staged in New York City for a documentary, and Berlin: Live at St. Ann's Warehouse is essentially the soundtrack album to Schnabel's film. While in many respects these performances honor both the sound and the intent of the 1973 studio album, the Lou Reed who walked on-stage in New York in 2006 sounds recognizably different than the man who recorded these songs 33 years earlier. Reed didn't play electric guitar on Berlin, but he does here, and the elegant brutality of his soloing adds a new flavor to the melodies, and while three decades of wear and tear on his voice bring a welcome character to "The Kids" and "The Bed," the curious timing of his new phrasing doesn't serve his lyrics especially well. But Reed and his band (including Steve Hunter, another veteran of the original recording sessions) perform this music with skill and empathy, and while the highly polished production of the original album sounded a bit chilly, on-stage this music reveals a warmth and a damaged yet unaffected humanity. As an encore, Reed performs an additional three songs, and while "Rock Minuet" doesn't fare much better here than it did on the flawed Ecstasy, his umpteenth recording of "Sweet Jane" is full of life and Antony's guest vocal on "Candy Says" is a thing of rare beauty. In its original form, Berlin was a work of tremendous ambition that didn't quite live up to its own high standards, and this live recording seems to trade a roughly equal number of new flaws for those of the original album, but this performance sounds like a legitimate attempt by Reed to revisit his past without being shackled to it, and on that level it's a brave and compelling experiment that (often) works. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
At the time of the spring 2007 release of Hudson River Wind Meditations, four years had transpired since the release of The Raven, Lou Reed's extremely ambitious collaborative take on the writings of Edgar Allan Poe, and three since his last live album, the excellent Animal Serenade. What transpired during those years is anybody's guess, but if one had to judge by this, his debut album for Sounds True Audio, one would have to guess that it was somewhat drastic, at least by evidence presented. Reed states in his brief note to the album he co-produced with Hal Willner that "I composed this music for myself as an adjunct to meditation, Tai Chi, bodywork, and as music to play in the background of life -- to replace the everyday cacophony with new and ordered sounds of an unpredictable nature." Fair enough. The bottom line is that the music found here is electronic and not in any manner associated with Metal Machine Music. It follows -- loosely -- the dictums of Brian Eno's notion of ambient music in that it can be listened to in the background and perhaps ignored, but not without very low volume, and not without trying. These four pieces -- the first two, "Move Your Heart" and "Find Your Note," last over an hour -- are movement-oriented, albeit very slow movement. They match the breath, they match the pulse, and if listened to in meditation or with movement, offer a base, a starting point, a way of moving through the time and space of sitting or slow action that can actually focus your attention on your practice. They are not cold or emotionless, and if anything, resemble the work in Reed's photographs of the Hudson River. They are nearly still but move -- the listener -- into places in the heart itself. Sure, this isn't the crazy dog of rock from the past 40 years, but he doesn't need to be. With Willner as a sympathetic editor and co-producer, Reed can let these pieces unfold by themselves with no set end point other than the silence between each track. Certainly this won't be for everyone, but for those seeking out a recording to help induce quiet in the midst of a crazy busy life, it will be indispensable. For those seeking an accompaniment to nearly any kind of spiritual practice or bodywork, this will deepen the atmosphere. For those seeking rock & roll, it's best to look elsewhere. This one may score Reed some new fans, while causing some of his other ones to guffaw in cynical delight, but that's OK -- it's a sure bet he could still take 'em in an alley fight. ~ Thom Jurek, All Music Guide
After decades of being circulated on inferior-sounding bootlegs, the January 1972 reconvergence of Velvet Underground (VU) co-founders Lou Reed (vocals/acoustic guitar), John Cale (guitar/viola/piano/vocals), and Nico (vocals/harmonium) in Paris at Le Bataclan has been committed to CD. A suitably noir mood hangs over them as they stonily amble through VU staples and key entries from their concurrent solo endeavors. They commence with a slow and almost methodical "Waiting for the Man" as Cale offers up a simple piano accompaniment to Reed's casual guitar and lead vocal. Reed aptly describes the bleak torch reading of "Berlin" as his "Barbra Streisand song" before unveiling a profoundly minimalist interpretation. It captures the unnerving mood inescapably defining the city in the wake of WWII. They return to the early VU for an inspired "Black Angel Death Song." Reed's rhythmic chiming guitar incongruously fits beside Cale as he whittles away an austere viola counterpoint. Back briefly to Reed's eponymously titled debut for a very Dylanesque delivery of "Wild Child." The reconnection between the duo begins to gel significantly, if not audibly throughout an intense "Heroin," immediately recalling what makes the Cale/Reed combo so appealing. Cale seizes the reigns for the melodically and lyrically involved "Ghost Story" from Vintage Violence (1970). One rarity is Cale's "Empty Bottles," which he contributed to Jennifer Warnes' Jennifer (1972) album. Nico finally takes the spotlight for a healthy sampling of her work, couching a trio of post-VU efforts around three of her most memorable sides during her brief time in the band. They saunter into an intimate and warmly received mini-set featuring "Femme Fatale," "No One Is There," and "Frozen Warnings" of off Marble Index (1969), as well as "Janitor of Lunacy" from Desertshore (1970). The show concludes with another trip into the VU songbook on a comparatively optimistic "I'll Be Your Mirror" duly juxtaposed against an edgy and sinister "All Tomorrow's Parties." While fans and pundits hopefully proclaimed the performance as the return of the Velvets, alas it would not be so. Le Bataclan '72 (2004) is a no-brainer for all dimension of VU, John Cale, Lou Reed, and/or Nico enthusiasts. ~ Lindsay Planer, All Music Guide
Apparently the notion of Lou Reed reinterpreting the works of Edgar Allan Poe didn't strike a positive chord with many folks, given the chilly commercial and critical reception accorded to Reed's 2003 album The Raven, and it seems plenty of fans were no more enthusiastic about seeing the material performed in person, since the tour staged to support the album found Reed playing smaller venues than was his custom. And in both cases, the folks who took a rain check really missed something; while The Raven was genuinely flawed, it was also one of Reed's most ambitious and compelling albums in quite some time, and the subsequent live shows found Reed and his musicians in truly superb form. Animal Serenade, recorded during the Los Angeles date of the tour, is a striking two-plus hour document of Reed and a fine ensemble in full flight; Reed brought along a small but potent backing band -- bassist and sometimes percussionist Fernando Saunders, guitarist Mike Rathke, cellist Jane Scarpantoni, and backing vocalist Antony -- and the performances presented manage to merge the intimacy of a small-group show with the force and passion of a full-on rock gig. The takes on "All Tomorrow's Parties" and "Dirty Blvd." are both hypnotic and muscular, but the more subtle and measured interpretations of "Venus in Furs," "Sunday Morning," and "The Day John Kennedy Died" easily conjure up the same edgy conviction, and Reed's interplay with his group is marvelous. These folks don't simply back him up; there's a genuine sense of collaboration among the musicians that's one of the real defining points between good and great performances. Animal Serenade isn't the hardest rockin' live album Lou Reed has ever cut, but for the sheer commitment and power of these performances, it's in a dead heat with Live in Italy as Reed's finest concert recording, and makes clear that in his fifth decade in music, Lou can still deliver the goods -- and in some respects is actually getting better. A more than pleasant surprise, and truly fine listening. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
Edgar Allan Poe was a man who usually looked on the dark side of life, had more than a few less-than-healthy romantic and sexual obsessions, was known to dabble in dangerous drugs, and was fascinated with the possibilities of the English language, so it's no wonder why Lou Reed regards Poe as a kindred spirit. In his liner notes to the album The Raven, Reed touches on the parallels between their work when he writes, "I have reread and rewritten Poe to ask the same questions again. Who am I? Why am I drawn to do what I should not?...Why do we love what we cannot have? Why do we have a passion for exactly the wrong thing?" Reed's obsession with Poe's work found a creative outlet when visionary theatrical director Robert Wilson commissioned Reed to adapt Poe's works to music for a production called POE-Try, and The Raven collects the material Reed wrote for this project, as well as a number of dramatic interpretations of Poe's work, featuring performances by Willem Dafoe, Steve Buscemi, Elizabeth Ashley, Amanda Plummer, and others. The limited-edition two-disc version of The Raven gives a nearly equal balance to words and music; while the single-disc edition is dominated by Reed's songs, the double-disc set features a much greater number of spoken-word pieces, most of which have been filtered through Reed's imagination, with a more intense focus on sex, drugs, and conflict as a result. While the condensed version of The Raven sounds like one of the oddest and most audacious rock albums of recent memory, the complete edition feels more like a lengthy performance piece (albeit a rather unusual one), and while it lacks something in the way of a central narrative, the focus on the letter as well as the spirit of Poe's work seems a great deal clearer here. The pitch of the acting is sometimes a bit sharp (especially Dafoe, who seems to be projecting to the last row of the balcony), but the con brio performances certainly suit the tenor of the material and Poe's writing style. Musically, The Raven is all over the map, leaping from low-key acoustic pieces to full-bore, window-rattling rock & roll, with a number of stops along the way. Reed also touches more than casually on his own past as well, with new recordings of "The Bed" and "Perfect Day" added to the sequence, and for a man not known for his ability to collaborate well, The Raven is jam-packed with guest artists, including David Bowie, the Five Blind Boys of Alabama, Kate and Anna McGarrigle, Ornette Coleman, and Laurie Anderson, all of whom are used to their best advantage. The mix of ingredients on The Raven is heady, and the result is more than a little bizarre, but there's no mistaking the fact that Reed's heart and soul are in this music; even the most oddball moments bleed with passion and commitment, whether he's handing the vocal mic over to Buscemi for a faux-lounge number, conjuring up brutal guitar distortion while his band wails behind him, or confronting his fears and desires with just a piano to guide him. Truth to tell, Reed hasn't sounded this committed and engaged on record since Magic and Loss over a decade before; The Raven reaches for more than it can grasp, especially in its two-hours-plus expanded edition, and is dotted with experiments that don't work and ideas that don't connect with their surroundings. But the good stuff is strong enough that anyone who cares about Lou Reed's body of work, or Edgar Allan Poe's literary legacy, ought to give it a careful listen. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
Never let it be said that Lou Reed has lost the ability to surprise his audience; who would have thought that at the age of 58, on his first album of the new millennium, Reed would offer us an 18-minute guitar distortion workout with lyrics abut kinky sex, dangerous drugs, and (here's the surprise) imagining what it would be like to be a possum? For the most part, Ecstasy finds Reed obsessed with love and sex, though (as you might expect) his take on romance is hardly rosy ("Paranoia Key of E," "Mad," and "Tatters" all document a relationship at the point of collapse, while "Baton Rouge" is an eccentric but moving elegy for a love that didn't last) and Eros is usually messy ("White Prism"), obsessive ("Ecstasy"), or unhealthy and perverse ("Rock Minuet"). Reed genuinely seems to be stretching towards new lyrical and musical ground here, but while some of his experiments work, several pointedly do not, with the epic "Like a Possum" only the album's most spectacular miscalculation. Still, Reed and producer Hal Wilner take some chances with the arrangements that pay off, particularly the subtle horn charts that dot several songs, and Reed's superb rhythm section (Fernando Saunders on bass and Tony "Thunder" Smith on drums) gives these songs a rock-solid foundation for the leader's guitar workouts. As Reed and his band hit fifth gear on the album's rousing closer, "Big Sky," he once again proves that even his uneven works include a few songs you'll certainly want to have in your collection -- as long as they're not about possums. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
By 1997, the "Unplugged" craze, in which nearly every rocker under the sun decided to look back on their songbook with tasteful and unamplified maturity, had just about run its course, but that wasn't about to stop Lou Reed from belatedly trying the same gimmick for his performance at London's 1997 Meltdown Music Festival. Reed's semi-acoustic performance was also prompted by the latest bit of electronic gimmickry to catch his fancy, a special feedback-defeating pickup system that gave his acoustic guitar "the sound of diamonds" (Reed's phrase). While it's difficult to say just what a diamond is supposed to sound like, it is true that his guitar sounds quite good on this set. Reed and his band approach the respectfully quiet arrangements with precision and no small amount of enthusiasm (especially bassist Fernando Saunders), and Lou is in unusually good voice here; one of the traditional failings of his live albums has been that he doesn't always sing and play well at the same time, but here he hit his marks with ease. However, you've got to wonder about the choice of material on Perfect Night; if Reed really intended this to be an overview of the breadth of his career, he wasn't doing himself any favors by throwing in "Vicious," "Original Wrapper," or "Sex With Your Parents," while "Kicks" and "Riptide" aren't especially well-served by stripping them of their electric guitars. There are enough good tracks here ("I'll Be Your Mirror," "Perfect Day," and "New Sensations") to indicate that Reed might have a good acoustic album in him, but before he tries something like Perfect Night again, he ought to sit down with some friends who can edit a better set list for him. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
It's widely agreed among Lou Reed connoisseurs that his 1984 release Live in Italy is one of the best live albums of his recording career. But since it was never issued domestically (only available as an import), it has become increasingly harder and harder to find over the years. So in 1996, BMG got the rights to the recordings and reissued the album with a different cover (a well-known shot of Reed playing guitar, which also served as the cover to his 1983 video A Night With Lou Reed, and retitled it Live in Concert. Reed is backed by one of the finest bands he's ever played with -- guitarist Robert Quine, bassist Fernando Saunders, and drummer Fred Maher -- who thrash and burn through 14 solo Reed and Velvet Underground classics (taped over two nights in September 1983). Featured are explosively cacophonic versions of such allegedly autobiographical tunes as "Kill Your Sons," "Waves of Fear," and "Rock N' Roll," as well as a must-hear 15-and-a-half-minute medley of "Some Kinda Love/Sister Ray," and an amped-up version of "White Light/White Heat." Although the aforementioned home video/DVD A Night With Lou Reed is the better of the two and an absolute must-see (taped at N.Y.C.'s Bottom Line the same year), Live in Concert remains a powerful listen all these years later. ~ Greg Prato, All Music Guide
After contemplating the decline of New York City, the passing of his mentor Andy Warhol, his place in (perhaps) the greatest American rock band of all time, and the very nature of life and death, in 1996 Lou Reed finally began to consider a really important subject -- where to get a good chocolate egg cream. "Egg Cream" kicked off Set the Twilight Reeling, and for many fans it was a kick to hear Reed cranking up his amps and having some fun again, but much of the rest of the album turned out not to be as lightweight as the opener would have led you to expect. On Set the Twilight Reeling, Reed is preoccupied with relationships, as he tries to figure if he wants a long-term commitment ("Trade In"), if he's better off as a lone wolf ("NYC Man"), if he's in love ("The Proposition"), or if he just wants to fool around ("Hookywooky"). Reed rocks a lot harder here than on the two albums that preceded it (and plays plenty of great crunchy guitar), but much of the album is set in a mellow mid-tempo groove that's casual and comfortable but not especially compelling. And while "Sex With Your Parents (Motherfucker), Pt. II" is an amusing attack on conservative politicians, his logic isn't exactly clear. Longtime fans are no doubt grateful that Reed's relatively unfocused and unsubstantial albums these days are such a vast improvement over his fallow period in the 1970s, but for the most part Set the Twilight Reeling sounds like a standard issue 1990s Lou Reed album -- smart, well-crafted, with plenty of guitar, but nothing terribly special, either. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide
David Bowie has never been shy about acknowledging his influences, and since the boho decadence and sexual ambiguity of the Velvet Underground's music had a major impact on Bowie's work, it was only fitting that as Ziggy Stardust mania was reaching its peak, Bowie would offer Lou Reed some much needed help with his career, which was stuck in neutral after his first solo album came and went. Musically, Reed's work didn't have too much in common with the sonic bombast of the glam scene, but at least it was a place where his eccentricities could find a comfortable home, and on Transformer Bowie and his right-hand man, Mick Ronson, crafted a new sound for Reed that was better fitting (and more commercially astute) than the ambivalent tone of his first solo album. Ronson adds some guitar raunch to "Vicious" and "Hangin' Round" that's a lot flashier than what Reed cranked out with the Velvets, but still honors Lou's strengths in guitar-driven hard rock, while the imaginative arrangements Ronson cooked up for "Perfect Day," "Walk on the Wild Side," and "Goodnight Ladies" blend pop polish with musical thinking just as distinctive as Reed's lyrical conceits. And while Reed occasionally overplays his hand in writing stuff he figured the glam kids wanted ("Make Up" and "I'm So Free" being the most obvious examples), "Perfect Day," "Walk on the Wild Side," and "New York Telephone Conversation" proved he could still write about the demimonde with both perception and respect. The sound and style of Transformer would in many ways define Reed's career in the 1970s, and while it led him into a style that proved to be a dead end, you can't deny that Bowie and Ronson gave their hero a new lease on life -- and a solid album in the bargain. ~ Mark Deming, All Music Guide