Lou Reed - Berlin
By: Chris O'Toole
As the leader of New York avant-garde rock group, The Velvet Underground Lou Reed had consistently sought the boundaries of sonic exploration; defining the role of bleak, uncompromising noise as an element of the popular rock canon. Initially with 'The Velvet Underground and Nico' Reed had begun to examine the discordant guitar squall that would be accentuated over the groups following releases 'White Light / White Heat' and 'The Velvet Underground'. These albums drew on the work of La Monte Young, whose mesmerizing drones would later prove seminal in the evolution of Krautrock, seeking music with neither beginning nor end, and incorporated simplistic metronome drum rhythms, thrashing viola clamour and discordant guitar attacks to create something without precedent in recorded sound. Yet, as is well known, the band achieved little commercial success and was riddled with internal division, eventually provoking a definitive split in early 1970s. However, during its brief tenure the group gifted Reed a reputation for gritty social commentary; for Reed, music was an attempt go give you a feeling for the times, the man and the situation, an autobiographical account of a particular social epoch. As such Reed is credited with bringing a compassionate realism to rock 'n' roll, communicating his observations of both European and American social development.
Reed's work with the Velvet Underground had been starkly autobiographical, examining unambiguous sexuality, demimonde muses and the extremes of drug addiction, themes that continued to dominate his solo career. The formulaic 1972 release 'Lou Reed' was a disappointing start to this journey. However, Reed's next effort, 'Transformer', (incidentally produced by David Bowie) was more atheistically rewarding and garnered Lou Reed an international following for the first time. Based principally around the single 'Walk On The Wild Side', Reed reached the apogee of his popularity with 'Transformer', adopting a brash rock persona in keeping with the glam scene of the early 1970s. With his star on the rise Reed acknowledged "the smart thing to do now would be to hand them down a boogie album", but despite this awareness he took the opposite direction, producing his career defining album 'Berlin'.
Recording the album, Reed sought to build the image of a motion picture, a film for the ears. The setting for this picture was Cold War Berlin with the metaphor of the divided city, and the loose narrative line, providing the framework for a stark record of emotional destruction. For Reed the tepid, stagnant air of divided Berlin provided the ideal stage upon which his dream like sage could be performed. Over the course of the album Caroline, the female protagonist, meets the narrator by the Berlin Wall, forming a relationship with him and conceiving two daughters before engaging a journey of sexual liberation and chemical experimentation, and following the thread of Reed's earlier work, elements of 'Berlin' were autobiographical. He had come to the city in the early 1970s and grounded himself in the reality of the environment, superimposing the characters of his own life onto the scene. Reed principally drew influence during the period breakdown of his marriage to his first wife, Bettye Kornstadt, during 1972 and Kornstadt is portrayed as Caroline here, as Reed himself adopts the role of narrator, an American arriving in Germany for the first time.
The scene is established in the opening track, 'Berlin'. Initially a disorientating medley of muted bar room noise dominates as a crowd sings, "Eins / Zwei / Drei / Zugabe / Happy birthday to you / Happy birthday dear Caroline", before subsiding into a simple, mournful piano piece. The air is somewhat sombre, spotlighting Reed as the relaxed cabaret singer, using the divided German capital as the predictable home of romantic decadence, as he sings, "In Berlin / By the wall", in a tone of reminiscence. The method of performance draws from Bertolt Brecht's notions of epic theatre, provoking objective self-analysis and rational assessment of the events on stage to identify the social concerns addressed and their direct relation to the audience. However, despite the grave tones of the piece Reed does express a sanguine cheer, crooning, "It was very nice / It was paradise", but the past tense of the words illustrate the strife which follows, as the metaphor of partition grows to illustrate the division between couple. Subsequently 'Lady Day' increases the tempo of 'Berlin' as Reed sparingly uses his voice to express a growing fear, virtually speaking the words, "But when she passed the bar / And heard the music play / She had to go in and sing". The subtlety of 'Lady Day' is the title's reference to Billie Holiday, who infamously indulged in heroin until her premature death, and although Reed avoids equating Caroline with Holiday directly, it is obvious that, "When she returned / To the hotel she called home", Caroline would seek similar pleasures. The following 'Men of Good Fortune' is a break in the plot, as Reed assesses the relative merits of poverty and prosperity without offering a value judgement as to which is the superior.
Returning to the central theme of 'Berlin' with the first of two tracks entitled 'Caroline Says', Reed lifts the mood, employing a sprightly piccolo introduction to relieve tension and building a contrast with the earlier tones of trepidation. Here the swirling guitar drone and frenetic drumbeat evoke images of defiance from Reed as the song ebbs through a number of extravagant phases toward its finale. Reed recounts, "Caroline says that I'm just a toy / She wants a man, not just a boy", but he is unmoved and in quiet defiance returns, "Still she is my Germanic / Queen". It's these words that connect Reed with humanity, as he admits, "She treats me like I am a fool", but is still unable to sever the attachment to his muse. As noted, 'Berlin' was an autobiographical venture for Reed, and his role in the performance is considered on the following track, 'How Do You Think It Feels'. As he explained in 1974, the track is "involved with violence, both mental and physical. It takes place for real in Berlin in 1973. The really important thing is the relationship between the two major characters. The narrator is filling you in from his point of view, and his point of view is not particularly pleasant". With the lyrics "How do you think it feels / When you're speeding and lonely", followed by, "When you've been up for five days / 'Cause your afraid of sleeping", Reed elucidates on this unpleasant scenario, exposing the drug induced isolation and demon filled sleep he experienced during his divorce from Kornstadt. Yet despite the personal anguish displayed on the track, the raucous, frenzied guitar playing and increasingly urgent drumbeat ensure 'How Do You Think It Feels' takes its place as the driving force of the album. Completing the A-Side, 'Oh, Jim' sees Reed adopt the role of sage, warning others not to follow his despicable example. Over sharp, spiked drumming coupled to big band horn production, Reed delivers the lines, "All Your two-bit friends / They're shootin' you up with pills / They said it was good for you", with the clear implication that Reed has been fooled and is now urging others not to follow his path of drug addled self destruction. Perhaps more ominously the line, "Beat her black and blue and get it straight", is one of several songs on the album that offer male violence as a comment on male-female relations, a sobering statement.
Whilst Reed deviates from the narrative on the A-Side of 'Berlin', the reverse of the album forms a definite suite; moving from torment on a path of depravity, through despair and ultimately to suicide. Initially the second 'Caroline Says' depicts the inexorable decline of the heroine of 'Berlin', as the continuing violence of the narrator is illustrated in the lines, "You can hit me all you want to / But I don't love you anymore". Subsequently Caroline's friends desert her and she eventually turns toward self harm; "She put her fist through the window pane / It was such a funny feeling", as images of a nightmare continue to build like waves crashing on a beach. 'Caroline Says' utilises sweet orchestral production to coat lyrical messages of despair, and represents the beginning of the final slide toward the death of the heroine.
During the following trio of compositions Berlin reaches its emotional nadir. 'The Kids', witnesses the confiscation of Caroline's children by the authorities, "Because of the things that they heard she had done / The black Air Force sergeant was not the first one / And all of the drugs she took, every one, every one". The strummed guitar which characterises the track represents the simplicity of the situation for Reed, who is apparently unmoved by events as he recounts, "And I am much happier this way / They're taking her children away", and allows his anger to show as he mourns, "That miserable rotten slut couldn't turn, anyone away". In one final macabre piece of emotional manipulation the track ends with the lengthy section of children crying, and in order to ensure the authenticity of these sounds producer Bob Ezrin set up a tape recorder in his own home, then when his children returned home from school, told them their mother was dead. The theme continues with 'The Bed' in which Reed examines the room he and his wife inhabited, and the place in which she took her life. Again the events encapsulated in this piece are not too distant from bleak details of Reed's own experience, as he grimly details "during the recording sessions, my old lady - who was an asshole but I needed a female asshole to bolster me up, I needed a sycophant who could bounce around and she fit the bill, but she called it love! - she tried to commit suicide in the bathtub at the hotel. Cut her wrists - she lived. But we had to have a roadie there with her from then on". A howling, synthesised drone accompanies Reed's tour of the apartment, as he details, "The place our children were conceived", as well as, "The place where she cut her wrists", and his own mordant reaction, "But funny thing, I'm not at all sad", giving the track an unapproachable air of resigned desolation. The tone is completed by the lugubrious and orchestral, almost Wagnerian, 'Sad Song', in which Reed examines the situation, darkly deciding, "I'm gonna stop wasting time / Somebody else would have broken both of her arms". Musically 'Sad Song's orchestral pretensions draw on the influence of contemporary German composer Hans Werner Henze, who utilised the disparate elements of rock music to bolster the aural reach of his classical pieces, and creates a fitting finale to this woeful tale.
Although dramatised the plot of 'Berlin' draws from the reality of the metropolis during the Cold War epoch. Reed saw in Berlin a claustrophobic atmosphere, filled with brutal violence and betrayal, deciding this to be the perfect environment in which to allow his macabre narrative to unravel. He is a performer, who for a decade or more chose to make his life part of his performance. Utilising his own astute, lyrical poetry, Reed interpreted the social realities of Berlin, drawing on the city's culture for authenticity. Only in this atmosphere, once identified, can Reed begin to explain his own torment, and by sharing it with us, imploring us to understand, is he able to recover. In this respect Berlin is positive, identifying the nadir of human suffering, and offering a form of catharsis to the listener. Although tragic, the album is uplifting and still holds resonance three decades later.
Watch a video of Lou Reed performing the title track from 'Berlin' with John Cale in Paris, 1972 HERE.
Lou Reed will perform 'Berlin' in its entirety at the Hammersmith Apollo in London on June 30th and July 1st 2007. Tickets are available HERE.
Artists in this article: Lou Reed