Berlin

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Lou Reed

Berlin

Mobile Fidelity Sound Lab

MFSL 1-555

LP Black

$48

Limited edition
Pressed on 180g black vinyl
Sourced from the original master tapes

Description

Like the records he made with his first band, Berlin finds Lou Reed decades ahead of the times. Though dismissed upon its original release in 1973, the former Velvet Underground member's third solo effort ultimately landed on Rolling Stone's 500 Greatest Albums of All Time and remains one of his most lauded works.

Addressing mature issues in stark fashion, the rock opera blends autobiographical reality, poetic license, and ambitious arrangements to tell the story of a couple's toxic relationship and its fallout. Produced by Bob Ezrin and featuring an array of ace musicians, Berlin is an emotionally harrowing and sonically eclectic journey into the many of the worst tendencies of the human condition.

Sourced from the original master tapes, housed in a Stoughton jacket, and pressed at Fidelity Record Pressing, Mobile Fidelity's numbered-edition 180g LP of Berlin presents the landmark recording in audiophile quality for the first time. The scope, balance, and reach of Ezrin's explosive production comes to the fore. As does the ample spaciousness and separation that help give the songs breathing room even when the music builds to an orchestral pitch.

Reed's distinctive voice — central to every track — sounds direct, immediate, centered. The realism and clarity of his tone make it appear as if he's entered the room. You can trace his breath control, reserved coolness, and commanding phrasing. And sense the implied violence, delusion, and sorrow in the questions and statements he issues in the persona of the protagonist Jim — as well as the empathy, fatigue, confusion, and frustration he projects in his guise as Caroline.

Mobile Fidelity's reissue also puts into a new, improved light the brilliant contributions of the standout session players. Steve Winwood (Hammond organ), Michael Brecker (tenor saxophone), Randy Brecker (trumpet), and Procol Harum drummer B.J. Wilson play key roles. The core band assisting Reed and Ezrin on a majority of Berlin — Alice Cooper guitarists Dick Wagner and Steve Hunter, drum maven Aynsley Dunbar, Cream bassist Jack Bruce — turn in a collective performance for the ages. None more so than Bruce, whose bass lines resonate on this LP with a roundedness, fatness, tautness, and control that give songs added depth and foundation. Ezrin's restrained piano, full of body and decay, performs a similar function.

Expanding on the gritty themes he explored with the Velvet Underground, and arranging them into a conceptual tale, Reed transforms Berlin into a candid report of what was happening behind closed doors everywhere. Deemed by the Chicago Tribune as ''a spare, understated song cycle of nearly suicidal intensity about a crumbling marriage,'' it deals head-on with heavyweight topics such as domestic abuse, drug addiction, mental illness, custodial rights, prostitution, and depression. Reed's purple narratives detail issues that would attract mainstream attention many years later — and which continue to spur vital conversations.

Akin to a classic film noir or hardboiled novel, Berlin skirts any attempt to varnish its rough interiors. Functioning as both a contrast and counterweight, the record's beautiful, symphonic-leaning exteriors somehow both heighten and lessen the severity of the vignettes. The theatrical swells of woodwinds, strings, and brass feature the same streaks of black humor that inform Reed's writing. That edginess and eccentricity, and Reed's investment in the album's three characters and situations, function as magnets that draw us in even when the sadness, meanness, and darkness prompt us to look away.

Save for the opening romance of the title track and false hope of the damning (and downright nasty) ''Sad Song,'' Berlin largely trades in doom and depression. A record that starts off with a muted celebration and fond recollection ends with motherless children, slashed-wrists suicide, and a callous partner who feels no remorse for his brutal actions but professes gratitude for what becomes an unmitigated disaster.

''Life is meant to be more than this,'' Reed sings in combination protest and resignation on the ironically gorgeous ''Caroline Says II.'' Before the next song finishes — a bleak chronicle of behaviors and decisions relayed with intentional misogyny, hatred, and shaming, and whose subdued tenor gets fractured by the sounds of wailing children crying for their mother — that life has gotten far worse. Minutes later, when Reed and company shape the swirling fever dream called ''The Bed,'' that life is snuffed out. Oh, oh, what a feeling, indeed.

Artist Bio

Long before he was at the forefront of New York’s underground music scene, two-time Rock and Roll Hall of Fame inductee and Velvet Underground frontman Lou Reed (1942-2013) was a young songwriter, seeking to navigate his sound and establish his career.

A self-taught guitarist, the shy, Long Island-bred artist spent much of his youth seeking refuge in rock‘n’roll. As a teenager, Reed released his first single with his high school doo-wop group, The Jades. Yet, aside from that 1958 single and a narrow selection of Velvet Underground demos, there has been little opportunity to experience the full scope of Reed’s early artistic development.

In their notes for Words & Music, Don Fleming and Jason Stern recall finding two particularly exciting tapes in the offices of Reed’s company, Sister Ray Enterprises. The first captured several of the artist’s formative recordings, including a 1958 rehearsal with The Jades (also known as The Shades). The tape also offers a snapshot of Reed’s foray into folk music around 1963-1964 while he was attending Syracuse University. Accompanied by his acoustic guitar and harmonica, the artist covers Bob Dylan’s ”Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right” plus an instrumental rendition of “Baby, Let Me Follow You Down” and “Michael, Row the Boat Ashore.” Reed also delves into the blues with the brief “Lou’s 12-Bar Instrumental” and his “W & X, Y, Z Blues."

The second tape that Fleming and Stern uncovered was even more intriguing: a 5-inch reel-to-reel that had been sitting in a sealed, self-addressed envelope for nearly five decades. By notarizing and shipping the package—postmarked May 11, 1965—Reed was securing a “poor man’s copyright” on his recordings while avoiding the costs of filing official paperwork. As evidenced on Words & Music, the artist also protected himself by introducing each song with “Words and music [or lyrics and music] by Lou Reed.” But what was most remarkable about this tape was that its contents bridged the gap between Reed’s development as a songwriter and his debut with The Velvet Underground.

When these demos were recorded, Reed was back home, living with his parents, and working as a staff songwriter at Pickwick Records. Despite the fact that the Long Island City, New York label was churning out hundreds of “sound-alike” tracks and selling them at discounted rates, the position gave Reed ample experience to write, record, and perform in a variety of styles. Looking to add an edgier element to the label’s output, staff producer Terry Philips engaged Reed to front a faux group called The Primitives for a one-off dance song called “The Ostrich.” Philips started scouting additional group members who could look the part for live appearances.

At a party in Manhattan, Philips met two avant-garde musicians who fit the roles perfectly: John Cale and Tony Conrad. Their friend, sculptor and drummer Walter De Maria, completed the group. Although “The Ostrich” never took off as a dance craze and the single failed to chart, Reed and Cale discovered a musical kinship—particularly when it came to sonic experimentation. Through the summer and fall of 1965, the two artists, along with guitarist Sterling Morrison and drummer Angus MacLise established themselves as The Velvet Underground. Tony Conrad was responsible for the band’s name, having shared a copy of Michael Leigh’s book The Velvet Underground with the group. In December of 1965, Maureen “Moe” Tucker replaced MacLise on drums and the art-rockers caught the attention of Andy Warhol, who, along with filmmaker Paul Morrissey, promptly took on a managerial role and introduced the quartet to the German-born singer, Nico.

Among the gems on Words & Music are the earliest known recordings of “Heroin” and “I’m Waiting for the Man”—two essential tracks from the band’s highly influential 1967 debut, The Velvet Underground & Nico. As Fleming and Stern note, “In Cale’s autobiography [2000’s What’s Welsh for Zen] he describes an early memory of Reed showing him songs that later became Velvet Underground songs ‘as if they were folk songs.’ And that is precisely the sound of the songs on this tape, Reed on acoustic guitar and harmonica, with Cale singing the harmony parts in a style closer to The Weavers or Peter, Paul & Mary, than the gritty sound that they pioneered a few months later.” Additionally, the tape reveals a rough sketch of “Pale Blue Eyes”—the latter of which wouldn’t come to light until the group’s third studio album, 1969’s The Velvet Underground.

Fleming and Stern also point out a variety of interesting lyrical evolutions—particularly on “Heroin,” which Reed wrote in 1964. While Velvet Underground fans are familiar with a version that opens with “I don’t know just where I’m going,” this May 1965 recording begins with the confident “I know just where I’m going.” The demo also includes three lines that were later axed in the studio: “People selling people pound by pound/And the politicians and the clowns/And the do-gooders with their frowns.” Several other lyrical discrepancies offer insight into Reed and Cale’s writing process, including the swapping of “All the animals making sounds” for “All the politicians making crazy sounds.”

The “Pale Blue Eyes” demo, meanwhile, underwent a complete rewrite before it was released—with only the first verse remaining intact. Conversely, “I’m Waiting for the Man’’ was nearly complete, with minor changes made in the final arrangement. An alternate take of the song, performed in a different key, also appears on Words & Music.

Other notable selections from these tapes include “Buttercup Song”—a long, sought-after demo that Sterling Morrison once referenced, which has since gained mythic status among Velvet Underground fans. Another highlight is “Men of Good Fortune.” While the song shares its title with a track on Reed’s third solo album, 1973’s Berlin, it features completely different lyrics and music, taking inspiration from traditional Scottish and English “Child Ballads” that were popular with 60s folk artists.

“Too Late,” another previously-unheard composition, harkens back to Reed’s doo-wop roots, while “Buzz Buzz Buzz” borrows from 50s R&B stylings. Also included is a Cale-fronted edition of “Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams,” which Nico recorded for her 1967 debut, Chelsea Girl. Compared to the majority of the demos, Fleming and Stern remark that the song “doesn’t sound like a reflection of any genre, it sounds like The Velvet Underground. The convergence of Reed’s song with Cale’s avant-garde sensibilities gives the clearest example of their unique sound to come.”

In his liner notes, Greil Marcus recognizes “The poverty in these songs—the bathtub-in-the-kitchen you hear in their clumsiness, the fifth-floor-walkup you can hear in their defiance—lets you hear them, now, as chalk on a wall, not the markings that wash away in the next rain but inscriptions that somehow become part of the brick, even if in a year or two no one will be able to read them.”

He adds, “Each of these songs is its own bildungsroman. They make a darkness, and Reed and Cale try to feel their way through it. In ‘Heroin,’ there’s just a hint of the hurricane it will become and the enormous authority it will carry two years later… ‘Pale Blue Eyes’ says go farther, there’s no end to this, and you know that they will go farther—they’re almost there.”

And go farther they would. After four landmark titles with The Velvet Underground, Reed launched a long and celebrated solo career—releasing more than 20 albums, including the 1972 glam-rock classic Transformer, 1982’s The Blue Mask, and 1989’s New York.

Lou Reed's final solo album, Hudson River Wind Meditations, stands out as a deeply personal musical endeavor, blending his fondness for creating drone music with a sincere interest in Tai Chi, yoga, and meditation. Serving as a contrast to his intense "Metal Machine Music," the ambient soundscapes of this album, remastered by GRAMMY®-nominated engineer John Baldwin and designed by GRAMMY®-winning artist Masaki Koike, offer a unique experience. The physical editions include new liner notes by renowned Yoga instructor Eddie Stern, shedding light on Reed's dedicated practice. The release also features a captivating conversation between journalist Jonathan Cott and Laurie Anderson, Reed's wife, discussing the album and his commitment to Tai Chi.

In the 90s, he reunited with Cale for Songs for Drella, a tribute album to Warhol, while that same year, The Velvet Underground regrouped for a series of tours. Reed continued to write, perform, and innovate until his death in 2013.