Lou Reed: The Blue Mask

haha yeah it might have been ornette w/the goosebumps, i just remember it was a real "brand name" jazz legend type

At one point, his website had recordings of six or seven different takes of Ornette's solo on "Guilty", from The Raven (I guess a composite was used on the album), which he enthusiastically encouraged the website visitor to sample.

Is it time to bring up Terms of Endearment again?

When Lou passed, Spin asked Xgau for thots, and he even did some more listening, incl. to several recently discussed here; I need to check these again too, and finally get to the late live albums he also mentions:

...Reed was making albums about a less-than-tranquil domestic stability that signified metaphorically whatever its factual accuracy: The Blue Mask in 1982 and Legendary Hearts in 1983, both featuring the doomed guitarist Robert Quine, and also I thought New Sensations in 1984, after Reed canned Quine while sticking to the concept. Listening back to that one now, though, I miss Quine...

After playing and probably being an apolitical cynic all his career, he debuted on Sire in 1989 with an album entitled New York that won praise for its social consciousness by copping to liberal shibboleths that wouldn't have sounded out-of-place from Ed Koch on a campaign stop in the Bronx, and that put its truisms across with a rock more VU-like in its toughness than any of the many variants he'd been tossing his fans for years. In 1996 came Set the Twilight Reeling, functionally his love album to the companion of his last two decades, the performance artist Laurie Anderson--which is not to claim a single lyric addressed or reflected any detail of their life together, only that the mood of the thing seemed congruent with the impressions of we who didn't know them. And in 2000, when he was 59, came his last full-fledged solo album, Ecstasy, which I've been playing since I heard Reed was failing on Friday. If his solo career produced a masterwork on the scale of whatever VU album you prefer, this de facto farewell is it. Companionable and perverse, enraptured and enraged, brought to the finish line by an 18-minute guitar freakout as world-historical as "Sister Ray," it reconfigures the passions, resentments, affections, and misfiring neurons that have always driven him to fuse the lyrical and the abrasive, the spiritual and the sarcastic.

There are a bunch of other records, of course--post-Ecstasy, a Poe collab that probably got too much mazel tov and a Metallica collab that probably didn't get enough. But if you want a sense of how he proceeded into that dark night, two of his many live albums are worth a listen: 1998's Perfect Night and 2004's Animal Serenade. In both he's wisecracking and enjoying his guitar and palpably proud that he's written a shitload of songs people want to hear. What he was like offstage those nights I don't know and don't care. What I do know is that the world is poorer because there'll be no more of them.
from https://www.robertchristgau.com/xg/music/reed-13.php

(Wasn't there a 2-disc, maybe import, ed. of the Poe? Would like to hear.)

His original takes on those, and a lot more, o course, are here: https://www.robertchristgau.com/get_artist.php?name=Lou+Reed (I'd give The Bells an A.)

The 2CD version of The Raven was released domestically. I reviewed it at the time:

Lou Reed's career is a mystery on at least two levels. The first, of course, is the series of artistic tangents and blind alleys he's caromed down at one point or another since his emergence with the Velvet Underground in the 1960s. In a more meta sense, though, the larger mystery is that he still has a career at all, at least on a major record label. He's never been anything like a sure, or even safe, commercial bet. RCA sponsored Reed through the 1970s, a decade in which he released one successful album (Transformer), two good ones (Berlin and the live Rock 'n' Roll Animal), and a string of records that ranged from the merely competent (Coney Island Baby) to the calculatedly offensive. The latter group included the song "I Wanna Be Black," the infamous noisefest Metal Machine Music and another live recording, Take No Prisoners, on which he spent as much time berating his critics as playing his music. Only near the end of his tenure with the label did Reed release anything which even approached the level of his Velvet Underground work: a pair of back-to-back albums, The Blue Mask and Legendary Hearts, which found him fronting a tasteful but still rocking band and writing some of the best lyrics of his career.

Since the late 1980s, Reed has been on another major label, Warners, shuttling around between a few of its divisions (Sire, Reprise). Virtually every record he's made for them has been in some respect autumnal and more than a little cranky. This has led him down some side roads, of course; one was New York, an exploration of metropolitan entropy regarded by some as his greatest solo album, despite its now-dated topical lyrics. But for the most part, his former preoccupation with the race toward self-destruction has been replaced with a fixation on death, both as it claims others and as it closes in on him. This was the basis for his reunion with Velvet Underground partner John Cale on the Andy Warhol eulogy album Songs For Drella, and his 1992 album Magic and Loss. On his latest record, The Raven, Reed has combined his obsessions with self-destruction and inevitable death into an album which attempts to link his own songs with the writing of Edgar Allan Poe. It's not a seamless fit and, unsurprisingly, Reed comes out looking the worse for the inevitable comparison. His command of language is simply nowhere near the equal of Poe's. Even at his artistic peak in the 1970s, Reed always cultivated a plain-spokenness which has by now devolved into mere grumbling. He seems to feel that listing the decadent effects of time on the body and mind is enough; whatever insights he may have gained from his decrepitude are largely withheld from the listener. And the song "Edgar Allan Poe," which consists of a single, monotonous guitar riff and the repeated chant "This is the story of Edgar Allan Poe/Not exactly the boy next door," is simply an embarrassment. By contrast, the readings from Poe — by actors Steve Buscemi and Willem Dafoe, among others, and accompanied by Reed's music — are terrific, and would have made a great album all by themselves.

Not every song here is a failure. "Blind Rage," which appears early on Disc Two, is a noisy guitar-rock track. "Broadway Song," which opens the same disc, is utterly bizarre: sung by Steve Buscemi, it's a tribute to showbiz done in a lounge arrangement complete with cheesy horns. "Guilty" features the saxophonist Ornette Coleman, which would make it by default the best song on the record even if it was boring or uninspired — and it's not. Ornette's playing is brilliant, especially when he accompanies Reed's croaking vocals, creating a melody the singer can only approximate and dancing around him with endless, inspired variations on it.

The Raven is an interesting idea. Lou Reed has had lots of interesting ideas over the years. Unfortunately, there have only been perhaps a half dozen occasions when the execution has lived up to the potential, and this isn't one of them. It's not a total loss; hardcore fans will certainly find a few gleaming nuggets amid the slurry. But it's nothing a neophyte needs to be concerned with, just one more tangent along the way to wherever Reed is going. And like so many of his previous records, it's totally, wilfully uncommercial.

Christgau got me into those '80s albums but his Lou Reed isn't mine.

https://thequietus.com/articles/13708-lou-reed-obituary

I remember hearing Xgau on a World Cafe preview/overview thing for Ecstasy where he brought up the reason he felt Reed had lasted as long as he had on major labels was that his albums weren't prohibitively expensive to make or promote, and that he had a large enough built-in audience willing to check-in on whatever he was doing; even if they didn't necessarily show up on release day, they would show up eventually, so he did respectable catalogue business.

Of course, Ecstasy ended up being his last proper Major Label release.

One of the surprising things about the DeCurtis biography was learning how high Lou's commercial expectations were for his later career - airplay, gold records (he got both for New York), fancy record store set-ups. It didn't help that he was not necessarily going to enthusiastically join in the banal process of record promotion, or that he installed his wife Sylvia as his manager with no particular background.

Thanks for the new input; I thought this thread might have run its course for a while,as old threads usually do after a few days. Think all yall have seen this, but for people of the future, some good related discussions: Robert Quine

I just want to say “Coney Island Baby” sounds great when drinking wine with friends. Very laidback. Sounds like outtakes from earlier Lou Reed/VU compositions which is odd considering this album was made a year after “metal machine music”, it feels like something that came even before “transformer”.

I think it might be the last Lou Reed album I can play entirely without feeling like I want to change the mood entirely.

Btw I do like “metal machine music” but I find it too homogenic to be a true classic or at least to warrant any replay value. It’s one of those things that it’s more fun to analyze and talk about than to actually experience. I think I’ve only listened to it in its entirety two times in my life.

I rarely set out to listen to MMM. I have a CD copy and it's on the computer and walkman, and I often shuffle through my collection while listening. Whenever MMM happens to come on there is an instant "Argh, wtf!" followed immediately by a feeling of calm and I trip out on it. I like it and I there is a lot of depth in the sounds.

Does it have a reputation in the noise rock community? Is there a noise rock community? Maybe it's not noise "rock." Noise music? Anyways, somebody that can get off on My Bloody Valentine ought to be able to appreciate MMM.

If MMM was a vindictive "fuck you" to the record company, it also turned out to be really good.

Once Lou figured out what Lou Reed was supposed to be, I was done with him. Take No Prisoners is the last Lou that I really love, along with Street Hassle. I've never tried The Bells or Growing Up In Public. I'm a little afraid that they will make me reconsider Street Hassle in a negative light.

I tried Blue Mask and New York and most of what came after and none of it did much for me.

MMM feels like an art installation that earned notoriety due to the change in context. When you look at what was essentially a touring exhibit of Lou's guitars as well as the Lincoln Center's display of the same instruments, aurally it was apiece with MMM, and they didn't get any shit for any of that because it seemed perfectly reasonable. I'm sure if you walked into MoMA hearing the same thing in a room somewhere, you wouldn't blink.

I've grown to appreciate his '70s output a whole lot more even though it's wildly uneven, but The Blue Mask, Legendary Hearts, New Sensations, New York, the film Songs for Drella and Ecstasy are my favorite works. I need to revisit the Berlin film...I recall some critics who thought it was better than the studio LP, but I've grown to love the studio LP, even if everyone I know knocks it for being too harrowing or depressing.

I wouldn't say the Berlin movie is better than the original record but it certainly succeeds far better then most "artist revisiting classic album in total" exercises

Sounds like outtakes from earlier Lou Reed/VU compositions

Yes, those Yule-inclusive outtakes were from the "original" Coney Island Baby sessions in January 1975, which were shut down when producer Steve Katz told RCA that the sessions were going nowhere. Then came Metal Machine Music in the summer, and a return to recording Coney Island Baby with a different producer in the fall.

I wouldn't say the Berlin movie is better than the original record but it certainly succeeds far better then most "artist revisiting classic album in total" exercises

That sounds more plausible. I can't think of a single live revisitation of an album that would somehow "replace" the original studio version. There are live albums that feel like definitive documents for a given band (The Allman Brothers' Fillmore album, probably the Grateful Dead's first live album), but they're not the track list of a previous album.

title track still the greatest song ever

one thing about my lou love is that I don’t feel defensive about haters. it’s ok, he’s not for you. hes for me and the other fuckups

but if you’re not a fuckup it’s ok to like lou

I like Lou, I think he's great
He's a solace to the world, he's my mate

Lou Reed - Full Concert - 09/25/84 - Capitol Theatre (OFFICIAL)
Just past the first hour (of 2:17)--they're not taking a break but I am. Mainly because ! can. because the urgency of the music just seems professional, though enjoyable enough: even the one-dimensional passages fit w the glinty tensile-not-tinsel, reliably wired, legibly schematic groove things(Circuit City, not Radio Shack--this is the 80s, Jack, and Jim). "Give it to me, Quine." He does, but seems mixed down a bit: vocals are not too loud. but more prominent than necessary, so I notice the words seem recited, and quotidian goes to mundane, but always enthusiastically, I'll give him that. Better when they slow down a bit for "Legendary Hearts," then faster than evah on "There She Goes Again," and then, holy moly, "Turn Out The Light" is like Lou meets Quine-era Material, also that era of hip-hop, kinda, tp "My Red Joy Stick," appropriately, and "Sally Can't Dance" fits with all this later stuff too. He sometimes kinda zings "the ineffable Quine, but only in passing, and so far almost deferentially (Quine is playing almost all the solos, so the mix, volume level, etc. adds to impressions of 1-D. but not too bad if you turn it up on headphones).
Good bass!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yOoXjYppyMM

A very hearty, all-hands-on-deck (where I can see 'em) "Walk On The Wild Side," and ditto "Satellite of Love"; now I', wondering if the coda inspired "TVC15," or vice-versa. "I love you, Satellite!" Aw funk me for a "New Sensation"---"I aint no dawg tied to uh pahked cah"--not a pahked one, no bout adoubt it. He's mingling.

Also actually singing!

And soloing--guitar sound is now louder, for some reason

"Doin' The Things We Want To" good but 0 Quine---to Waves ov Fear--mixdown effective here: Q seems like flashback around ankles--but then it's over: v. short and kind of a joeky tempo, sheeit---but it's a set-up for "I Loves You Suzanne"--which is vigorous. and I liked it as a single, but not as much after a mostly thrown-away "Waves."
"White Light" works the 1-D pretty good, good keys. Quine's good when I can hear him on "Turn To Me," but don't watch this whole thing mainly for him, as I have, although it might be a little worse without him---not bad for a mid-80s Lou Reed show,, though---"Kill Yo Sons!"

(Okay, I admit the guitars plural are getting into some nasty buzzy barbwire crawling around finale of that one----so it goes.)

Yeah OK!
The Setlist Time Stamps
0:00:57-Sweet Jane
0:05:27-I'm Waiting For My Man
0:09:50-Martial Law
0:15:03-Down At The Arcade
0:19:26-Legendary Hearts
0:23:08-There She Goes Again
0:26:47-Turn Out the Light
0:32:18-My Red Joystick
0:37:57-Average Guy
0:41:21-Street Hassle
0:46:25-Sally Can't Dance
0:52:08-Walk On The Wild Side
0:58:27-Satellite Of Love
1:06:46-New Sensation
1:14:42-A Gift
1:18:19-Doin' The Things That We Want To
1:23:31-Waves Of Fear
1:26:43-I Love You Suzanne
1:30:44-White Light / White Heat
1:34:58-Turn To Me
1:41:23-Kill Your Sons
1:46:59-Coney Island Baby
2:10:24-Rock 'N' Roll

For whatever reason I haven’t felt compelled to pursue his work past 1980.

With the exception of Lulu

I think I’m just afraid of disappointment.

Maybe you need to "get a thrill from punishment" to appreciate this era properly.

It's all about thrills here, or aiming to be--incl."Glo-ry of Love--give-to-me-baby!" Also nice intro for the Chantels, who then sing the hell out of "Maybe," backed by Lou & band, one of several not on that setlist.

Lou Reed - Full Concert - 09/25/84 - Capitol Theatre (OFFICIAL)

They also have Run-DMC's opening set from that night up on the same YouTube channel...even with the audience noise mixed down, you can hear the rap-hating fans boo. Fuck those people, but it does warm my heart that quite a few commenters in the Reed link not only attended this show but recall how it introduced them to Run DMC, much to their appreciation.

Anyway, other comments in that Reed link are great - Fernando Saunders pops in and a five-year-old comment brings this up:

A good show, but I was disappointed in the mix. I couldn't understand why they buried Robert Quine's guitar, but then I found this interview he gave to Perfect Sound Forever in 1997: "About a day before 'New Sensations' was going to be recorded, he fired me and did the guitar himself. I did do the tour with him afterwards- that was a long tour. I came to him and said 'forget whatever happened, I just want to play with you.' By this time, we had an awful band. The new drummer would only play well in rehearsals and the keyboard player (Peter Woods) worked with Al Stewart and Cyndi Lauper. There wasn't much room to improvise. At the end of 'Kill Your Sons,' I'd do a drone and Lou would do a guitar solo- we'd get pretty far out there. This keyboard player thought it was joke and play with his feet- Lou would have to come over and tell him to stop. Because I wasn't on New Sensations, I didn't have a lot to add live. I'd be doing a song, playing D and G for six minutes like 'Doing the Things that We Want To,' which I didn't really like, with no variation and the keyboard guy playing accordian. I thought, 'this is not why I got a guitar and wanted to play in a rock and roll band.' We hated each other's guts, me and the keyboard player. Lou got really abusive at the end- he'd hog all the guitar solos and made sure I got mixed out- even live. I got back from the tour and decided that was it. I assumed he knew it. He'd put me down to the rest of the band, knowing that they'd tell me about it later."

The keyboardist is a pop guy, but okay in his way (also w that one-song-only accordion). Now they're backing Jim Carroll on "People Who Died."

I think I’m just afraid of disappointment.

The Blue Mask is as non-disappointing as an LP can be (IMO)... it's not only a career highlight for Lou, but one of "those albums," y'know?

For whatever reason I haven’t felt compelled to pursue his work past 1980.

It's almost the reverse for me, at least with regards to his solo work - I played the shit out of the VU before I finally tiptoed into Reed's post-Velvets career. Coincidentally, I spent the last few days going through his '70s albums, thinking there might be more to it than I thought. The high points are still amazing, I already know them very well through a few compilations, but in most cases they really tower over everything else from the albums they came from. "Street Hassle," "The Bells," "Coney Island Baby" and "Kicks," etc...the albums that have those tracks aren't bad albums, but the remaining tracks were usually underwhelming. Beyond that, Berlin is still my favorite album partly because it's a strong, cohesive statement that hangs together consistently well as an album. Transformer is really uneven but it's got at least four classics on there. The eponymous debut has great songs, but I really prefer the older versions done by the Velvets.

The Blue Mask will always be my favorite - for sound alone, it's his best:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7l84hIJ3B_E

I love this era of Reed's music.

I remember that Quine interview. He might be right. He sounds like a reactionary crank, but I get it.

. I'd be doing a song, playing D and G for six minutes like 'Doing the Things that We Want To,' which I didn't really like, with no variation and the keyboard guy playing accordian. I thought, 'this is not why I got a guitar and wanted to play in a rock and roll band.'

I mean, ugh, shut up.

so fucking righteous (blue mask title track).

I don't think there's much doubt Quine was right (xxp)

He is but I instinctively recoil from dudes going I'M REAL ROCK 'N' ROLL MAAAAN

Never really thought of Quine as a rock and roll dude tbh!

Nor did I until I read that post! He woke up Lloyd Cole and Matthew Sweet.

I completely agree the sound and ambiance on ‘The Blue Mask’ is gorgeous…I always think I’ve walked in from the street into an empty basement club in the lower east side at 1am to see a beautiful intimate set…very few records capture this vibe

Yeah...although I could live w/o some tracks, some *songs*, that is. esp. "The Day John Kennedy Died" and "Heavenly Arms," but the sound carries me along---as is true of most of this show, once I more or less accept the mixdown of Quine and the ones where he doesn't play: either way (and as I mentioned, he is effective when I can hear him at all), it's the sound of a band, not a bunch of musos humoring the boss, or trying to, and a band suited to, molded to, the style of the songs, incl. their range, as seen on that set list---although it's a mid-80s arena set awright, and this "Sweet Jane" sucks and so would a lot of others w potential for intimacy.
xpost I sympathize w Quine, who seems still in pain, but by his own admission he asked to be on the tour, and he knew they would be playing material from New Sensations and other things he hadn't played on, didn't like, that there would be some fucking mid-80s arena pop rock and he knew from previous experience what Reed was like (incl. introducing Quine here as "my favorite guitarist," then talking shit about and to him offstage)---but he couldn't stay away, and I do sympathize/have been there: sometimes there really is a thin line between love and hate, which can find its way around your neck, and settle in.
Like I mentioned here or on Quine's thread, some have said Reed felt insecure, threatened by Cale's chops and artistry, and the same may be true with Quine---love-hate both ways, even, although that may be too generous to Reed.

There's a Lou Reed biography by Diana Clapton that features a long interview with Chuck Hammer, apparently Lou's previous "favourite guitarist", who played on Growing Up in Public. He reveals the emotional turmoil involved in working with Lou, probably exacerbated since he was still drinking at the time.

Mike Rathke never challenged his chops like Quine did.