(# 621) Lou Reed –
The Blue Mask (1982)
From what I can see, most pundits when assessing Lou Reed’s
solo career tend to praise his early albums such as Transformer, Berlin and the
live Rock n’ Roll Animal. No problems
here, they’re all top notch albums but this approach undervalues the wonderful
albums he’s made in the middle and latter parts of his career including the relatively
cheerful New Sensations, the superb New York and the thought provoking
Ectasy. But towering over all of this is
this generally unacknowledged gem comprising a ten largely sparse sounding
tracks but crucially played by the best backing band he’s ever had – guitarist
Robert Quine, long term bass player Fernando Saunders and drummer Doane
Perry. For the most part the album is
built on the interplay between the two guitarists, which in a nod to old style
recording techniques, Reed acknowledged by placing his and Quine’s guitars on
different sides of the stereo mix. (And
for those who know about these things, the sound of a record is an all
consuming passion of Reed’s.) It’s
almost redundant to state that this album sounds magnificent on headphones. But none of this would matter if it wasn’t
for the batch of A grade tracks which Lou brought to the sessions. My House, Women and, especially Average Guy
all seem to be statements about Lou’s life at that moment. Underneath The Bottle and The Gun about some
of his greatest fears which are put on a global level with Waves Of Fear and
personalised with his memories about The Day John Kennedy Died. Yet everything pales against the gut
wrenching majesty of the title track. An
explosive mediation about torture set against squealing guitars and a faint
martial beat, it horrifically anticipates post 9/11 claims of PoW mistreatment
by a good 20 years and might very well be the single best track he’s ever
recorded.
(# 622) Led Zeppelin –
“Untitled” (aka Four Symbols; aka Led Zeppelin 4; aka ZoSo) (1971)
Talk about a moment frozen in time. Actually this landmark album is titled by the
four symbols on label but which can’t be replicated by present day computer
keyboards. The gatefold cover showing a
picture of an old man in a building being demolished is difficult to replicate
in a CD jewel box. Even its contents;
hard rock played with a distinct blues feel and surrounding hippie vibes
appears old hat, a relic. And
yet, the album is one of those timeless masterpieces that people today tend to downgrade
when compiling top 100 lists; certainly Physical Graffiti has this covered in
terms of ambition, scope and probably scale of achievement but this album is
the epitome of hard rock. Black Dog and
Rock And Roll might very well be the best one-two punch opening of any album ever
released. The Battle Of Evermore and
Going To California are tripped out hippie musings, whilst Misty Mountain Hop
and Four Sticks rank among their most unacknowledged triumphs. What’s left is the heartbeat of the album,
the two epics that closed each side of the original vinyl release. When The
Levee Breaks, which closes the album, is absolutely brilliant, a number that demonstrates
how well the band drank at the font of the blues. Powered by John Bonham’s most brutal drumming
performance, Robert Plant’s vocals are so convincing that his solo career
travels into world music truly comes as no surprise whatsoever. The other track is Stairway To Heaven, a
track that needs absolutely no comment on my part such as been the way its
ingrained itself into rock’s consciousness.
(# 623) Otis Redding –
In Person At The Whiskey A Go Go (recorded 1966/released 1968)
My oh my oh my. I
part name myself after the great man and forget to include this. This is a live album recorded in LA in the
club on the Sunset Strip. Although he
was yet to appear at Monterey, the excitement in the room is palpable and the
fans lap up what is effectively a greatest hits set. I Can’t Turn You Loose is an explosive opener
leading into ballads Pain In My Heart and Just One More Day. The tempo picks up with Mr. Pitiful before
exploding into his cover of The Stones (I Can’t Get No) Satisfaction. After a few more numbers, the closing trio of
tracks , These Arms Of Mine, Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag and Respect leave the
audience and listener begging for more.
Another aalbum of tracks from the same show was released as Vol. 2 but
really, what the world is truly waiting on is the entire show in sequence. But if you really want to know why so many
listeners love listening to this man, listing to (Sittin’ On The) Dock Of The
Bay, watch his Monterey Performance and his
Norwegian show on the Stax Respect Yourself DVD and get this album.
(#624) The Replacements – Let It Be (1984)
The Replacements emerged from Minneapolis at around the same
time as its other two venerated musical exports, Husker Du and Prince. Their early albums, all released on
independent labels, saw them played a turbocharged, though at time juvenile, brand
of alternative rock that was always exciting and featured the often brilliant
lyrics of chief lyricist Paul Westerberg.
This was the last of these albums and is arguably their best. Proceedings are kicked off by the cheerful chugging
I Will Dare, We’re Comin’ Out is sloppy fun, the ballad Androgynous is
convincing as is a faithful cover of Kiss’ s Black Diamond. Side two features the largely instrumental Seen
Your Video which outlines their anti video stance, the childish Gary’s Got A
Boner and another fine ballad Sixteen Blue.
But the masterstroke is the album’s final cut Answering Machine. Effectively the first solo Westerberg solo track,
it is a masterful lament of someone facing the agonising dilemma of whether to leave
a good night message on an answering machine to a loved one who is not home. 
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