At the start of this year I decided to undertake a trawl through Lou Reed's solo back catalogue. My long standing received wisdom is that it's the definition of uneven, a hit and miss, zig- zag of styles, disappointments and comebacks with a few iffy live albums and a handful of pearls in among the sand. On re- listening, at a couple of decades distance, to the 1980 greatest hits collection A Walk On The Wild Side I found a lot to enjoy and was really taken with some songs I'd not heard since my tape collection got broken up in the early 90s- I had cassette copies of several Lou Reed solo albums from the 70s and have a few on vinyl and/ or CD, Transformer of course, New York, Street Hassle.
This is less of a deep dive into Lou's solo albums, more a shallow paddle or a slow meander. I decided that to make this work I needed to pick up copies of the albums on second hand vinyl. I don't know yet whether this will sustain itself into the 80s. The thought of handing over actual money for Mistrial scares me. I've decided too to avoid the live albums- someone lent me Rock 'n' Roll Animal in the late 80s and I thought it was the worst thing I'd ever heard, dreadful heavy rock/ metal versions of classic songs. I've no need or desire to go back there.
Since January I've bought, listened to and written about Berlin ('Lou's masterpiece'), his solo self- titled debut ('flawed but with some really good moments') and Transformer ('everyone knows/ has a copy of Transformer- and rightly so'). At this rate I'll be getting to New York in 2030. Recently I found a copy of 1974's Sally Can't Dance second hand. The vinyl plays fine, no scratches or jumps, perfect condition and half a century old. The sleeve smells like it's been in someone 's garage since the mid- 70s however but nevermind.
I approached Sally Can't Dance with some trepidation. I had it on cassette a long time ago and didn't remember it being that good. It was the first Lou solo album without any Velvets era songs on it and the first recorded in New York. Weirdly it was Lou's biggest solo album and was very much seen as a hit. In 1976 Lou, never the best judge of his own work maybe and not a reliable interviewee at all at that point- contrary is putting it mildly- described it as a 'piece of shit from beginning to end'. It's not. He didn't like Steve Katz's production either and the reviews were critical on release. With some caution I dropped the needle on the record...
Ride Sally Ride comes in with piano and horn and that familiar Lou Reed Weimar/ New York feel, torch songs with a little crooning, tumbling drums and female backing vox. 'Ooh isn't nice/ When your heart is made out of ice', Lou sings, rhymes confusion with contusion as the brass parps away and all is good in Lou Reed world. Relaxed- it's the Quaaludes maybe- and easy. Animal Language follows, Lou's bleach blonde hair from the (horrible) sleeve painting and glam rock strutting to the fore, a song about Miss Riley who had a dog and Miss Murphy who had a cat and their neighbour's complaints. The chorus- 'ooh meow meow, ooh bow wow'- is hilarious, the guitars squeal and Lou Reed is surely taking the piss.
Next is Baby Face, a slow blues with guitar and bass locked in and Lou singing softly, close to the mic. Lou's voice is so distinctive and very limited really, two notes, a snarl, a drawl or a croon but he always makes the most of it. The voice is Lou Reed. Baby Reed is a snarky song but well worth sticking with. It's written from the point of view of his ex- wife- 'Jim, livin' with you is not such fun/ You're not the only one/ You don't have the looks/ You're not the person you used to be/ There are people on the street that would go for me...'
Side one finishes with N.Y. Stars. It's amazing and refreshing how short albums used to be- eight songs, not much more than thirty minutes. N. Y. Stars kicks in with a gnarly guitar part (David Weiss I think) and then a full band, some echo, a Bowie feel, and Lou turning his caustic glare on the next generation, the '4th rate imitators', with Lou becoming increasingly bitchy. 'I'm just waiting for them to hurry up and die', he sings, the guitars and drums gathering pace. It's sleazy and wired and alive.
Turn Sally Can't Dance over and side two gives us Kill Your Sons, a key Lou Reed solo song. Crunchy guitar riffs and a processed vocal. Lou's lyric dissects his parents' decision to send a young Lou to a psychiatric hospital to be cured of his proclivities- which included ECT. Lou sneers at the two bit psychiatrists and the electric shocks, the inability to read a book past page 17 because he couldn't remember where he was or what he'd read. He turns his aim at his mum and dad and his sister and her husband (which his sister thought was very funny apparently). As he lists the drugs they put him on the guitars ring out and the song fades into a buzz of feedback and Lou singing 'they're gonna kill your sons...' After that the mood changes with Ennui, another slice of Lou Reed cabaret/ supper club music with a late period Velvets feel and more scores being settled, more aging and waiting for death.
The title track comes next, Sally Can't Dance, horns and New York cool, guitar solos and one of Lou's character songs, Sally who can't get off the floor and can't dance no more. Lou paints a portrait in a few lines, 'she was the first girl in the neighborhood to wear tie die pants... that had flowers painted on her jeans... now she kills the boys and acts like a son'. It's a groove and a blast, it's sassy and pulls apart a New York face, maybe Edie Sedgwick. It's about decadence and lifestyle choices, regrets and depravity and it being too late to pull back from the flame.
After that there's just the five minutes of Billy. Acoustic guitar and sax and Doug Yule on bass, a lovely recording of the bass guitar, the much maligned Doug invited by Lou to play on the song because Lou thought it would suit him. Billy is a story song. Lou and Billy went to school together, best friends since nine years old. Billy was the football player, Lou the do- nothing. Billy studied hard. They both went to college. Billy went for a PhD. Lou dropped out. Billy became a doctor and then war broke out. Billy went to Vietnam and Lou didn't ('mentally unfit they say'). The sax wails away, needlessly but brilliantly, over the top. The acoustic guitar is scrubbed as much as played. Billy comes back from the war not quite the same and it leaves Lou wondering, 'which of us was the fool?'
My caution and trepidation were unfounded. There's very little wrong with Sally Can't Dance- mid- 70s Lou is still very much in the driving seat and his talent is undoubted. RCA put pressure on him to repeat the trick, give them another big hit. This annoyed Lou so he gave them Metal Machine Music (an album memorably described by Tony Wilson as 'the sound of your fridge switching on and off'). Lou Reed- contrary much?
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