It is somehow darkly appropriate that on All Souls Day we would be talking about a dead man, more specifically, the recently-deceased Lou Reed.
As for those who don’t know who he was, here’s a little primer:
His biggest (and only) hit, “Walk on the Wild Side,” was a song that told the story of transvestites, hookers, gay hustlers and drug addicts in New York City that famously snuck a reference to fellatio past the censors. Who would have thought such a song would have been fodder for a hit today, let alone 40 years ago?
But to call Lou Reed a one-hit-wonder is far from accurate.
He was also a founding member and principal songwriter for The Velvet Underground, one of those bands that became more famous after they broke up than when they were actually putting out records and doing gigs.
The closest the band got to fame was through its association with Andy Warhol, not that they really wanted fame anyway.
What else can one deduct from the fact that the band’s debut album, “The Velvet Underground and Nico,” featured songs about waiting for a drug dealer (“Waiting for the Man”), shooting up heroin (“Heroin”) and sadomasochism (“Venus in Furs”) all capped off by a song that degenerates into musical chaos (“European Son”).
While the album also had moments of tender beauty sung by Nico, “Sunday Morning,” “Femme Fatale” and “All Tomorrow’s Parties,” it was clearly not intended to win mainstream approval.
The band went on to record three more albums, each with its own vibe, but each building on one element or another that was introduced on that first album.
While The Velvet Underground never achieved commercial success (or wanted to), they did achieve the artistic success of inspiring loads of imitators. Much of the underground music scene in the ‘80s was comprised of college-aged kids doing their own version of The Velvet Underground.
In terms of pure influence, the Velvet Underground comes just short of The Beatles, and that’s nothing to sneeze at.
But Reed’s legacy doesn’t end with his tenure leading the preeminent alternative rock band, it extends to a solo career that was at times dull and brilliant. If there’s one thing Lou Reed wasn’t, it was consistent.
He continued to compose songs that were truly beautiful such as “Perfect Day” and release albums intended to frustrate more than please such as the dreaded “Metal Machine Music” that is either a bad joke or avant-guard music taken to an illogical extreme.
In the end, Lou Reed was a musician that cared more about his music than his audience, which is the hallmark of a true artist. Those artists that put their art first are the ones that enjoy a legacy to be proud of. It’s why artists such as Neil Young and Bob Dylan continue to be revered; they refused to become a walking jukebox who gave people what they asked for. We get what they want to give us, and if we don’t like it, then that’s tough.
And fans of those kinds of artists appreciate the sense of surprise those artists can deliver and that the artist doesn’t feel the need to patronize them.
So it was with Lou Reed.
His last album was a collaborative effort with Metallica, “Lulu,” that continues to confound, so musically, he perhaps left on an appropriate note.
All we can say is that in the end, this world was a cooler place because Lou Reed was in it.