New York
Reed, Lou

A Sociology in Sound
Nobody in rock romanticizes the flinty, unsettled, perpetually on-edge dynamic of New York City quite the way Lou Reed does. The guitarist, poet, and singer—who as architect of the Velvet Underground influenced generations of musicians—treats the city not just as an endless source of pitiable characters, but a place where great minds and lunatics are neighbors. His wide-eyed Transformer (1972) paints a debauched insider's portrait of the World of Warhol that was then happening downtown; as he follows drag queens and art savants through assorted passion plays, Reed arrives at his biggest hit ("Walk on the Wild Side") and one of his most enduring songs ("Satellite of Love").
To fully get Reed, start with Transformer (well, at least a chunk of it; like many of Reed's projects, it is erratic), then move to his most consistent work, New York (1989), which Reed once described as "as good as I get." On this talky, character-filled record, he returns to the sociology of Transformer and subsequent albums, updating it to reflect the brutality of the age of AIDS. (One lament, "Halloween Parade," plays like a shell-shocked roll call of the downtown departed, and the survivors who grieve for them.) The songs are caustic, informed by a metro columnist's sense of the interconnectedness of the city: When, on "Dirty Blvd.," Reed tells of people who've fallen through the social safety net and turned to prostitution, he also looks at the well-heeled customers whose lust fuels this particular economy. His diatribe about political correctness, "Good Evening Mr. Waldheim," castigates the pope, Jesse Jackson, and others who take cover behind rhetorical phrases like "common ground."
The pictures Reed paints here are often bleak, and it's a measure of his artistry that New York isn't a total downer—there is, amazingly, a sense of hope glimmering through, and at times great humor. His inventory of souls who are about to snap under the pressure, "Sick of You," contains this choice couplet: "The ozone layer has no ozone anymore, and you're gonna leave me for the guy next door? I'm sick of you."
Reed and his accomplices seize on these sparks—this band delivers fury on demand, and uses it to bolster music that's agitated one minute and elegiac the next. Howling at the limousine class about tragedies happening just blocks away, Reed bears witness to the indifference and uncaring running rampant in his beloved city, snapping eye-opening candids at a moment when New York was particularly unfeeling, and hard to love.
Genre: Rock
Released: 1989, Sire
Key Tracks: "Romeo Had Juliette," "Halloween Parade," "Sick of You," "Busload of Faith."
Catalog Choice: Transformer; Rock 'n' Roll Animal; Songs for Drella (with John Cale)
Next Stop: Mott the Hoople: Mott
After That: New York Dolls: New York Dolls
Book Pages: 638–639
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