Lou Reed gets high on his Ecstasy in Vancouver, keeps the rock ‘n’ roll animal muzzled

kevin statham photo

ORIGINALLY PUBLISHED ON JUNE 8, 2000

By Steve Newton

A couple of weeks ago I picked up a newly remastered copy of Lou Reed’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal, because it’s one of the best live albums ever released. And in the liner notes to that disc there’s a quote from an unsolicited customer review on Amazon.com that reads: “Lou Reed sucks, but Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal rules.”

Now, I wouldn’t quite agree with that armchair critic’s glib assessment, but I can see where the statement is coming from. I’ve appreciated Reed at various stages of his 30-year-career–his sardonic tales of the Big Apple on 1989’s New York were particularly compelling–but sometimes the guy does suck, and unfortunately, one of those times is now.

His new CD, Ecstasy, is one of his weakest ever, but that didn’t stop him from playing most of it at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre on Saturday (June 3), including such tiresome numbers as “Modern Dance” and “Rock Minuet”.

By the time his two-hour-plus show was over I couldn’t wait to get home and erase the mediocre vibe by cranking up “Dirty Blvd.”

My disappointment certainly made me the odd man out, though, since the vast majority of the near-sellout crowd of 1,700 appeared totally impressed. There’s no question that Reed’s bandmates–in particular Fernando Saunders, who shone on fretless five-string and electric upright basses–are skilled players. But that doesn’t count for much when the tunes aren’t clicking with you.

Reed might be a living legend, a punk-rock godfather, a tortured, poetic genius–but that doesn’t mean he gets to torture me. It didn’t bother me that the aloof icon didn’t crack a smile or say one world to his adoring fans until the show was nearly over; he could have played with his back to us, for all I cared. I just wanted to hear a few good rock songs.

He did deign to offer up the timeless “Sweet Jane” during his encore, but when that tune transformed into “Vicious”, the latter classic was marred by a tediously repetitive arrangement. It appears as though the Lou Reed fanatic of today enjoys hearing the same riff repeated ad nauseam, though, because while I sat unmoved by the racket those around me stood and cheered.

That’s when I took advantage of their cries of “Lou! Lou!” to sneak in the odd “Boo! Boo!” My voice didn’t make much of an impression among the favourable hollers, but in a small way it felt like payback for that old high-school pal of mine who blew his hard-earned lawnmowing money on Reed’s excruciating Metal Machine Music back in ’75.

A couple of weeks after this review was published, the Vancouver paper I worked at introduced a new column called Payback Time, where ticked-off readers could write in and vociferously complain about the music critics’ opinions, before the scribe under attack was allowed to defend himself with a potentially witty response.

Some chick who had a problem with my Lou Reed review wrote in:

Dear Payback Time:
Why do you continue to let Steve Newton review musicians he obviously has absolutely no interest in? Is it supposed to be funny? Ironic? To us, it’s just a waste of time and space and free tickets on a whining baby. It infuriates most because many people I know could not afford tickets to Lou Reed, and the Georgia Straight wastes another pair on this Skynyrd-loving moron.
Seana Binns

Steve Newton replies:
Hey, Seana! Thanks for the feedback, but I don’t see the logic in it. How could anyone who loves Lynyrd Skynyrd be a moron? I mean, haven’t you ever heard “Free Bird”? The guitar solo in that song kicks ass! Here, let me hum a few bars: “Dewda-lewtin-dowdow/Dewda-lew-dow-dittl-ow/Dewda-lewtow-deeoww-deoww-deoww.” Wicked, eh? Now who’s the moron, huh?