Album Review: Lou Reed – The Blue Mask

For anyone who ever wondered how Lou Reed went from his chaotic 70s character to his professorial late 80s/early 90s character, 1982’s The Blue Mask may reveal the answers.  On this album Reed is playing the character of husband.  It starts gently with the gentle, middle-aged electric strum of My House.  Reed’s guitar combines well with Robert Quine’s throughout this album, on heavy workouts and also gentler tracks such as Women which features some really gorgeous instrumental passages.

It has to be said that the lyrics are a little trite on this album.  As a newly-wed (to Sylvia Morales) he embraces the concept of marriage – “I’ve really got a lucky life, my writing, my motorcycle and my wife” also “I love women I think they’re great”, neither couplet likely to win a Booker prize.

However the music is so strong the album succeeds, after the gentle, vaguely threatening The Gun we get the full-on assault of the title track which sees Reed and Quine’s guitars go completely into overdrive, rocking like crazy on this track, Reed barking threatening lyrics like “make the sacrifice, mutilate my face, if you need someone to kill I’m a man without a will” over feedback squeals.  Waves of Fear is in a similarly powerful vein.

But quieter tracks are more the norm, The Heroine and The Day John Kennedy Died.  Not all the tracks work – Average Guy is far too repetitive and banal (“I’m just your average guy trying to do what’s right”), while although Heavenly Arms has a decent melody, lyrically it’s cringeworthy, the chorus merely features the name Sylvia sung over and over.  However these tracks don’t detract from what is one of Reed’s stronger albums. 

Album Review: Lloyd Cole – Don’t Get Weird On Me Babe

Lloyd Cole’s second solo album, released in 1991, represented a departure for him. Or at least half a departure. For the album is one of two halves. The first six songs were recorded with an orchestra, and were quite unlike any of Lloyd’s previous work. As an experiment it could have been doomed to failure. However it works beautifully, taking his songs to unimagined new heights.

Butterfly is a strong opener, ushering in the sweeping strings on a brooding, descending melody but next track There For Her has a wonderfully soothing atmosphere, redolent of Nilsson’s Everybody’s Talking, conjuring up sunny day driving. Margo’s Waltz is a darker, meditative waltz, though it’s lightened by cooing backing vocals, before Half of Everything picks up the pace a little. This one is a little over-cooked, with piano, strings and an over the top guitar solo.

Even going bossa-nova in Man Enough doesn’t spoil the atmosphere, before the tranquil What He Doesn’t Know ends a terrificly atmospheric run of songs. It’s almost a shame when the more straightforward ‘rock’-orientated second half kicks off. There are some strong songs here nonetheless, the jangly Tell Your Sister has pleasing shades of Lou Reed about it, along with Robert Quine’s guitar as Lloyd croons about “Ruemorgue avenue”.

Weeping Wine is very Byrds (minus the harmonies) while later The One You Never Had is worth sticking around for with a lovely guitar lick. The album concludes with fine driving rock song She’s A Girl and I’m A Man, complete with disparaging chorus “she’s gotta be the stupidest girl I’ve ever seen”. Though it’s a less cohesive listen than its self-titled predecessor, it’s a hugely enjoyable listen, and worth it for the first six tracks alone.

Album Review: Lloyd Cole – Lloyd Cole

Lloyd Cole released his first solo album in 1990. It promised to be a departure, as Lloyd had moved to New York and assembled a new band containing erstwhile Lou Reed/Richard Hell guitarist Robert Quine, and also Matthew Sweet and Fred Maher. Lloyd was pictured with long hair and stubble, leading to accusations of ‘rocking out’. The truth of it is the album is not quite heavy rock by any means, but more careful evolution of his sound and music.

Opening with the blissful Don’t Look Back (obvious Dylan reference there!), Lloyd does not completely reinvent himself, but more gently evolve. Indeed the aforementioned collaborators play with great subtlety on this track, with a yearning guitar solo from Quine and sighing backing vocals as Lloyd sings about “when you’re nothing to no-one” and the onset of ageing (“life seems never-ending when you’re young”) and thirtiedom a la 29 off Commotions album Mainstream. No Blue Skies was the first single and is in a similar vein, a soaring tune full of gentle, soaring guitar fills, with Lloyd lamenting “baby you’re too well read”.

So what about the rock?! What Do You Know About Love is the second track, and is a darker, brooding rocker. There’s a lovely midsection showcasing his love of New York (“it’s raining on Bleeker Street”) and the guitar work throughout the track is quite superb. Sweetheart is the rockiest track here, sounding a lot like a Lou Reed style rocker but it works really well with Lloyd’s witty lyrics: “well I guess you've really got some kind of way with words - maybe you could be a writer.” He even sounds like he’s having fun on I Hate To See You Doing That Stuff, where the band cuts loose and sound like they’re having a great time, even Lloyd singing a line or two in French can’t sink this one.

Later Ice Cream Girl is a truly uplifting piece of music, sounding breathtakingly simple yet original, again with some exceptionally good guitar work, while Undressed is a harmonica-led, Dylanesque little ditty which Ryan Adams had clearly heard before recording Heartbreaker.

It’s an excellent collection of songs and at 13 songs perhaps a little overlong, yet it’s a good starting point for discovering Lloyd Cole’s music. It’s criminal that this album hasn’t got more recognition as its fingerprints are all over rootsy alternative music these days (anything from Ryan Adams to Villagers). Incidentally it’s his 50th birthday today which I cannot believe!