Review of the Week: Lou Reed * * * *
(Live at the Marquee, Cork)
POTENT POP: Lou Reed performs 1973's Berlin album in Cork
With the David Bowie-produced Transformer, Lou Reed lit up 1972. He wasn't long out of the Velvet Underground and the album brilliantly fused glam-rock with his art-school posturing. It made Reed a star.
Then the following year, he took a giant step towards dismantling his popularity with Berlin -- a concept album that revolved around the fictional account of a pair of doomed, drug-addicted lovers. It's one of the most unrelentingly bleak albums in the history of mainstream rock.
The initial response was cold both critically and commercially, and Reed's dream of taking the album on the road as a rock opera had to be put on hold. Ever anxious to challenge, he released the virtually unlistenable Metal Machine Music shortly after.
But with the passage of time, Berlin has been reappraised and is now seen as one of the most uncompromisingly brave albums of the 1970s. For many Reed fans, it's his best album.
After fulfilling his dream of taking the album, and a large supporting cast, on the road last year, he is in Cork to embark on a European tour proper. It's something of a coup for the organisers of the Marquee gigs to nab Reed ahead of Dublin, and the big tent by the Lee proves to be a fine setting for his opening night.
Together with 25 musicians -- among them a London children's choir -- Reed delivers Berlin in its entirety and in chronological order.
The troupe, ruthlessly orchestrated by Reed, capture the nuances of the songs and the choir is especially haunting, not least when they mimic the anguished screams of the album's protagonist's children.
Reed is in complete control; that world-weary New York vocal as distinct as ever.
But this is theatre, not a conventional rock show, and those not intimately acquainted with the album may have struggled to engage.
The singer, famous for his sullen demeanour, is in no mood to win over the casual friends. When someone shouts a word of praise, Reed drawls: "I love you too, that's why we're here." But it doesn't seem terribly heartfelt.
The album takes an hour to perform, mostly in icy precision, and The Kids and Sad Song sound remarkable live and as potent as they must have sounded on release in 1973.
For his encore, Reed is back with just three songs -- a rousing version of Satellite Of Love, a lively Rock 'n' Roll and a largely forgettable Rock & Roll Heart. The casual fan may feel short-changed, but the purists go home sated.
You will be hearing a lot more of Berlin in the months to come. Julian Schnabel -- director of The Diving Bell And The Butterfly -- has made a Lou Reed-sanctioned feature film based on the characters and events from the album. n
John Meagher
- John Meagher
