Lou Reed

When Lou Reed died two weeks ago, I must admit I was a little taken aback by the outpouring of media coverage. I mean, he was no household name, and had only one top 40 hit. But he was one of those musicians who is honored more for his influence and integrity for record sales. He was a true rock and roll visionary.

I knew who he was, mostly for that top 40 hit, "Walk on the Wild Sild," and a few other songs. I bought a vinyl copy of the celebrated Velvet Underground and Nico album many years ago, but listened to it only once. Perhaps I just wasn't ready for it. To address this injustice, I purchased The Essential Lou Reed, which Reed put together himself, and I realize how great he was.

In some ways, he can be described as the punk Bob Dylan, even though he wasn't really punk--he was proto-punk. All punk bands owe him a great debt, but so do the glam-rock groups of the early '70s and art-rock groups that developed in that same decade. He was a poet, like Dylan, but specialized in writing about the misfits, the dispossessed, the discarded. He wrote compassionately about junkies, transvestites, transexuals, the poor, the overlooked. And he did it while playing a mean guitar.

"Walk on the Wild Side," perhaps the most unlikely top 40 hit ever, is what most will know him for. It was about five members of Andy Warhol's Factory scene, and had references to oral sex, male prostitution, and transexuals. It has a lovely jazz sound, with a seductive bass line and brushes against the snare drum, ends with a sax solo. But the tribute to Warhol's "superstars" are what make the song great:

"Candy came from out on the Island
In the backroom she was everybody's darlin'
But she never lost her head
Even when she was giving head
She says, Hey babe
Take a walk on the wild side"

Of course Reed wrote about drugs, and his death at 71 probably had something do with excess in that area. Some of the songs were obviously about drugs, such as "I'm Waiting for The Man," "Ecstacy," and "Heroin:"

"Heroin, be the death of me
Heroin, it's my wife and it's my life
Because a mainer to my vein
Leads to a center in my head
And then I'm better off than dead"

Some songs, though, are about drugs surreptiously. "Perfect Day" appears to be a love song to a woman, but apparently it's also about heroin. The lyrics were posted by the Vatican's social media person, not realizing that. Oh well, it's nice that the Vatican even knew who Lou Reed was.

"Perfect Day" is a beautiful song, and one of many lovely melodies that Reed wrote. Others include "Satellite of Love" and "Pale Blue Eyes." "I'll Be Your Mirror" is a terrific love song--about a person, not a drug.

Reed also wrote some straight ahead, danceable, upbeat songs, such as "Sweet Jane" and "Rock 'N' Roll:"

"One fine mornin', she puts on a New York station
and she couldn't believe what she heard at all
She started dancin' to that fine-fine-fine-fine music
ooohhh, her life was saved by rock 'n' roll"

But Reed's greatest legacy is a lyricist, which earns the comparison to Dylan. His songs could be angry, such as "Caroline Says," about an abused woman, or "Dirty Blvd.," about a young boy growing up in a welfare hotel:

"No one here dreams of being a doctor or a lawyer or anything
they dream of dealing on the dirty boulevard
Give me your hungry, your tired your poor I'll piss on 'em
that's what the Statue of Bigotry says
Your poor huddled masses, let's club 'em to death
and get it over with and just dump 'em on the boulevard "

Then there are just passages that make the head spin with their imagery and wordplay, and the influences of the great writers, from Shakespeare to William S. Burroughs. I think of "NYC Man":

"The stars have shut their eyes up tight
The earth has changed it's course
A Kingdom sits on a black knight's back
As he tries to mount a white jeweled horse
While a clock full of butterflies on the hour
Releases a thousand moths
You say " leave" and I'll be gone
Without any remorse
No letters faxes phones or tears
There's a difference between
Bad and worse"

I was most knocked out by a song called "Street Hassle," which is eleven minutes long and includes a monologue spoken by Bruce Springsteen (but he wouldn't allow Reed to credit him, which certainly kept sales down). It has three sections, which are united by a haunting theme played by a string quartet, which serves as a sort of ticking clock, or perhaps more accurately a beating heart. The lyric is a masterpiece typical of Reed's writing: aching, broken, and beautiful:

"Love is gone away
Took the rings off my fingers
And there's nothing left to say
But, oh how, oh how I need him, baby
Come on, baby, I need you baby
Oh, please don't slip away
I need your loving so bad, babe
Please don't slip away"

Reed the man has slipped away, but his music remains.