For a hall-of-fame rocker, Lou Reed had wildly inconsistent quality control throughout his long solo career. Yeah, his Velvet Underground output was world-class over four albums, but after VU’s Loaded, stylistic permutations, personnel shuffles, vibe shifts, and mood swings predominated. When Lou was good, he was very good, indeed. When Lou was bad, it made even hardcore fans wonder how a genius could fall off so drastically. When’s the last time you played Mistrial?
In the ’70s, Reed had more ups than downs, compared to his work in ensuing decades. Coney Island Baby followed 1975’s much-maligned (but not by me!) Metal Machine Music, and talk about contrasts… The latter is a bombastic guitar-feedback concerto that’s anathema to unadventurous listeners. The former is an easy-going, at times cuddly rock record eagerly seeking radio play. And as far as that niche goes, Coney Island Baby is a solid B+ effort.
Largely inspired by Reed’s transgender girlfriend Rachel Humphreys, Coney Island Baby is awash in romantic sentiments, as “Crazy Feeling,” a gently ambling JJ Cale-like tune with Bob Kulick’s laid-back slide guitar sighing to the fore, demonstrates. For Christ’s sake, the first couplet is “You’re the kind of person I’ve been dreaming of/You’re the kind of person that I’ve always wanted to love.” The sunny single “Charley’s Girl” lopes like Transformer‘s “Vicious,” but in a much more charming and sedate manner.
“She’s My Best Friend” is a slower, more ungainly version of the sweet-natured, bouncy song that appeared on the posthumous VU comp. Surprisingly, it builds to a country-rock-ish climax, replete with a “na na na na na NA” refrain. In the delicate jangle-rock of “A Gift,” Reed sings with tongue-in-cheek sincerity, “I’m just a gift to the women of this world/Responsibility sits hard on my shoulder/Like a good wine, I’m better as I get older.” Good one, Lou! It almost made me forget how unabashedly middle-of-the-road the music is. But then Stonesy rocker “Ooohhh Baby” storms in to shake off the lassitude. It’s a song about lusting after a stripper who used to work at a massage parlor; lyrical content and sonics are perfectly in sync. The title track’s a nostalgic composition that epitomizes a blissful languor, even as it boasts the line “Man, I wanna play football for the coach.”
But the zenith of Coney Island Baby is “Kicks.” This six-minute trip sounds like it was transported from entirely more decadent universe—or from the seediest house party you’ve ever been to. (Alternate title: “Creep On The Dark Side.”) Yes, it has a guitar riff that makes the one from the Velvets’ “Oh! Sweet Nuthin'” sound like heavy metal, but Reed’s steely vocal delivery while inhabiting a psychopath’s mind (he asserts that murder’s better than sex) ushers the song into an exhilaratingly nasty zone. The structure’s so simple yet so effective, proving yet again that Reed’s always been a master minimalist. “How do you get your adrenaline flowing?” Lou asks, and the god-tier theater of cruelty of “Kicks” is one sure way to do so. -Buckley Mayfield
Located in Seattle’s Fremont neighborhood, Jive Time is always looking to buy your unwanted records (provided they are in good condition) or offer credit for trade. We also buy record collections.
