I began listening to Lou Reed in early January 2022. His discography is a bit of a slow burner so I recommend starting with Coney Island and then skipping ahead to The Blue Mask through Set the Twilight Reeling.
Lou Reed (1972): B
Transformer (1972): C
Berlin (1973): C
Rock 'n' Roll Animal (1974): C+
Sally Can't Dance (1974): B
Metal Machine Music (1975): D+
Coney Island (1975): B+
Rock and Roll Heart (1976): C
Street Hassle (1978): B-
Live: Take No Prisoners (1978): C+
The Bells (1979): B-
Growing Up in Public (1980): B
The Blue Mask (1982): A
Legendary Hearts (1983): A-
Live in Italy (1984): B-
New Sensations (1984): B+
Mistrial (1986): B-
New York (1989): A-
Lou Reed and John Cale: Songs for Drella (1990): A
Magic and Loss (1992): C
Set the Twilight Reeling (1996): B+
Ecstasy (2000): B-
The Raven (2003): C
Lou Reed and Metallica: Lulu (2011): B-
Lou Reed (1972):
With eight of the ten tracks dating back to the Velvet Underground days, Reed doesn't seem to be looking to the future. But with only one of the tracks being previously released in 1972, he may have just wanted to release a few old songs he really believes in. Unfortunately for this album, all eight of those Velvet Underground tunes have now been released and I'd prefer to listen to almost all of those versions. However, Reed creates an intriguing vibe on this album--lowkey and open musically but, of course, with some New York grit--and it might be enough for me to pick this up again even if I don't believe in any of these songs as much as Lou. B
Transformer (1972):
Perhaps because he craved a commercial breakthrough--which he more or less got with the success of the single "Walk on the Wild Side" and the album's lasting critical legacy--Lou Reed hired David Bowie and Mick Ronson to produce this record and gave them substantial creative freedom to morph his distinctive style. The melodies are Lou's but the entire sound and instrumental choices on the record are theirs, who decide Reed should hop on the glam rock train. It's a complete sell-out--I've always felt slightly conflicted about Loaded for the same reason but there's much less that's redeemable here. "Perfect Day" is absolutely awful and only on "Vicious" and "Walk on the Wild Side" is Lou's style not horribly violated and disfigured. But that's not to say Lou--who, until now, basically hadn't written a song since the Velvet Underground broke up--came to the table with some great songs. Most of them have irritating sing-song melodies and banal lyrical topics that succumb to obvious or forced rhymes. I can’t wait to move onto to Berlin. C
Berlin (1973):
Lou Reed is one of the best lyricists out there and, although I never put it in writing, for a long time, I thought that only lyricists of Lou Reed's class (no, not you Townshend) could actually pull off a full-blown rock opera. Then, I decided that top-notch lyricists weren't stupid enough to ever undertake such an endeavor and then I decided I didn't want to hear a concept album by Bob Dylan anyway. Now, here we are and my first theory almost holds true. This starts off as the most impressive concept album I've read. But then it ends and like The Wall, I'm left wondering what the whole point was. Reed's athematic stories about drugs, violence, prostitution, etc. are best served in two to eight minute songs (a carefully chosen interval), not fifty minute nightmares that ends in a for-shock-value suicide and her lover's apathy. But like the later Ezrin-produced opera, this album is mostly a failure musically. The use of strings, choirs, virtuoso guitar solos, and other cliches to stimulate a musical climax are pretentious on any rock record. On a Lou Reed one, they're also disorienting and depressing. C
Rock 'n' Roll Animal (1974):
Like on Berlin, I don't like the virtuoso guitar wails and solos of Steve Hunter, who skillfully nullifies all the good performances except "Heroin" and "Rock 'n' Roll," the two long ones. C+
Sally Can't Dance (1974):
After the critical successes of Transformer and Berlin--yes, I'm quite against the grain so far--this was seen as a serious disappointment despite peaking at 10 on the Billboard. For the artist Lou showed himself to be in the Velvet Underground, this is mediocre on many levels but in his solo career so far, it's a breath of fresh air. The production is pleasant enough (the horns come on way too strong on "Animal Language" though), the flashy guitars are gone, the melodies are pretty enjoyable, and the whole thing is damn listenable. B
Metal Machine Music (1975):
I didn't want to give this grade for the first time in half a year but sixty-four minutes of guitar feedback without a single melody or vocal forced my hand. If it's a big f-you to his record company--a theory which Lou has neither wholly rejected or endorsed--then I'm all for it. If not, I still respect this project more than most of my C-'s. But this is as unlistenable as it gets. D+
Coney Island (1975):
What a pleasant surprise that after dropping his worst album, he turns around and offers his best form since his solo career began. Bob Kulick is the first guitarist by Reed's side to offer outstanding work and that's on top of classic Lou Reed melodies that are warm and occasionally boast a sense of humor. But these songs, usually paying tribute to longtime lover Rachel Humphreys, never betray his infamous rough edges, which might just be enough to put this ahead of the weakest VU record. (Which one? Not sure. Both? Maybe.) B+
Rock and Roll Heart (1976):
Rarely does an artist follow-up such a pleasant album with such a lackluster and dull one. I thought Lou had found his stride but the songwriting is non-existent and I rarely like saxophones on rock records. C
Street Hassle (1978):
The production is pretty haphazard but there's some decent songs. Interestingly, the orchestrated ten minute title track--an epic quite a lot better and certainly more interesting than Berlin--might be the best song after the satirical "I Wanna Be Black." Outside of this, Reed doesn't even try on one of the best Velvet Underground outtakes and makes a fool of himself on "Shooting Star." B-
Live: Take No Prisoners (1978):
Reed probably never beat how relaxed he is on stage for this record. If I was at said concert, I would appreciate all the monologues but in the comfort of my own home while doing math homework, I prefer music, which probably only makes up about half the record. The music, when not interrupted by Reed himself, is continuously heckled by obnoxious concert goers asking for "Heroin" or some other classic. Somehow, that never gets to Reed's infamous temper, which is both perplexing and irritating because the performances are good enough. C+
The Bells (1979):
Everything is entertaining--"Stupid Man" is funny, "Disco Mystic" is funnier, and "Families" is the funniest--but the music and production is muffling. B-
Growing Up in Public (1980):
With the title track, "My Old Man," and "The Power of Positive Drinking," Reed keeps up the humor he started on The Bells although this time the production is his best since Coney Island Baby. With lines like "he likes Edgar Allan Poe, she's into mean Joe Greene/She thinks eating meat's disgusting, he likes hot dogs," it's no wonder he became such a fan of Dylan's "Brownsville Girl" and "Foot of Pride" in the late 80s. Despite the nice sound of record and consistently entertaining lyrics, I'm still not sure how essential this is. B
The Blue Mask (1982):
And just like that, he's back. Once we longed for Reed to make something reminiscent of the Velvets. Now we see his possibilities are so much more endless. With only four musicians on the entire album and no overdubs, it's exactly the raw rock'n'roll his former band became famous for but this is completely different. We get to see Lou Reed completely unfiltered--lyrically, vocally, emotionally, musically--all while he's purposely dismantles his legendary 70s druggy persona "Lou Reed." He brags of his settled and ordinary lifestyle by the lakeside, shares the health problems his substance abuse has caused him ("I worry that my liver's too big and it hurts to the touch"), and disavows his previous treatment and sexist views of women. He even turns "Heroin" into "The Heroine." Simultaneously, his talent for blood-curdling horror pulls no punches. In fact, it reaches something of a peak as he conjures a nightmare of sadism and explores paranoia with frightening intensity. Fernando Saunders's fretless bass waltzes like a pimp on "The Gun." Doane Perry's drums thump like a out-of-control heartbeat as the onslaught of "Waves of Fear" is just beginning. Robert Quine and Lou Reed perform the ancient art of weaving (only the mix--which puts Quine in the left speaker and Reed in the right--cues us into who's playing what) on guitars played with unapologetic and forceful primitivism. Keep turning it up--it's rock'n'roll worth blowing out your ears to. A
Legendary Hearts (1983):
Other than a different drummer, this is the same band that performed on The Blue Mask, which means that the fantastic guitar and the singing bass are back. In addition, Reed continues writing at a level unseen since his VU days. However, Reed, being the prickly guy he's always been, mixed Quine's guitar almost entirely out of the record because of creative tensions. Although Legendary Hearts is a much more laid-back record anyway, this is quite disappointing. But because ignorance is bliss, it doesn't hurt my enjoyment--I just wonder how much better it might have been. A-
Live in Italy (1984):
I originally planned on skipping this live album but I loved Quine's playing on The Blue Mask and since creative tensions led them to separate after this, I hoped to hear Quine's fiery playing one last time. I was particularly excited to hear him in a live setting playing many of the Velvet's classics. Mostly thanks to Reed's subdued vocal performances as well as the production and mix that leave the guitar muddy and quiet instead of sharp and loud, the guitar solos aren't nearly as thrilling or frequent as I hoped. In fact, it's only the strong second half that makes this better than Rock 'n' Roll Animal. B-
New Sensations (1984):
Like on Legendary Hearts, Reed proves he doesn't need Quine to produce a strong rock album (although the best song is "I Love You, Suzanne," whose riff was written by Reed's former partner in the ancient art of weaving). Songs like "My Red Joystick" and "My Friend George" make me take this album less seriously than his last two releases but maybe I'm just being two uptight. Both are very funny, it's his warmest album since Coney Island, and this continues a surprising and wonderful career resurgence for Reed. B+
Mistrial (1986):
Reed started the eighties as one of the strongest musical veterans on the scene by completely evading current musical trends. Now, he's finally given into some of them by using a drum machine. Once again, Reed performs both lead and rhythm guitar to surprisingly great results but there's a drop in songwriting quality that coincides with the lesser production. There are several highlights but where throwaways on his last album were at least funny, songs like "Video Violence" and "The Original Wrapper" are throwaways through and through. B-
New York (1989):
Reed's storytelling about the city he calls home is fairly unlike his past lyrics with the multitude of allusions and political stances but I welcome the change as it's no doubt one of his strongest collection of lyrics. Favorites include "Dirty Blvd.," "Endless Cycle," and "Last Great American Whale." After experimenting briefly with modern day trends on Mistrial, he's closer to the straightforward rock that he patented with the Velvets than ever before in his solo career. In fact, the great Moe Tucker appears on two tracks. A-
Lou Reed and John Cale: Songs for Drella (1990):
Though their personalities never meshed for long, Lou Reed and John Cale made some incredible music whenever they were able to stay in a room together. This album is no exception. Reed was already having a hell of a decade but when collaborating with Cale, his excellent writing takes a new form. Featuring minimal instrumentation (usually just a guitar and keyboard or viola), the album is musically sparse, which brings Reed's fantastic guitar playing to the front with such quality that it might even surprise longtime fans. But the space in music is mostly there to focus the attention on the lyrics, which chronicle the life of Andy Warhol, often from the first person point of view. The lyrics from both men are consistently ruminative and poetic, the best being Warhol's philosophy on "Work." A
Magic and Loss (1992):
Musically, it's fairly skillful, which somehow doesn't stop it from being a terribly boring 60 minutes. C
Set the Twilight Reeling (1996):
After a misstep on Magic and Loss, Lou has returned to the strong form he's had more or less consistently since in 1982. At least half of the songs are great rockers with Lou Reed once again impressing on lead guitar. Here, he also continues some of the political writing he introduced on New York--for one of Lou's funniest lyrics ever, check out that one song on the track-list. B+
Ecstasy (2000):
Instrumentally, this is one of Reed's finest solo albums even in spite of an eighteen minute jam that never lifts off. All he has to do is not screw up the lyrics... which is exactly what he does. Like Neil Young's, Reed's straightforward lyricism can either be fantastic storytelling, a well-meant effort, or a giant turd. Here, Reed's writing often includes detailed and explicit sexual lines, which I object to almost without exception in every genre, and metaphors I simply cannot get behind: "Good morning, it's possum day/Feel like a possum in every way." I should have known what I was getting into when I heard the backstory behind the cover. B-
The Raven (2003):
It was nice to revisit some of Edgar Allan Poe's most famous writings but most of this album is spoken word, which I wish Lou had read himself, and the music is almost never interesting. C
Lou Reed and Metallica: Lulu (2011):
Any idiot who renounced Reed after this album was never a fan to begin with. This sort of out-of-the-blue left turn is right down his alley, especially coming off the heels of the bewildering "Like a Possum," which was a whole lot worse than this eighty-seven minute collaboration. As for Metallica, they crunch with all the predictability of a heavy metal band of their stature. With Lou singing, they're tolerable and occasionally sound pretty damn good. Without Lou joining on guitar, the band is regularly too stiff and most of the soloing is pretty damn lame. But as bad as Lulu is, it does bring you in, it is an experience like no other, and it is hilarious. B-