Pitchfork

After Lou Reed disbanded that seminal experimental art-rock band The Velvet Underground, he decided a solo career was the way to go. I know of more than a few people who would disagree with him on that matter. Sure, 1972's Transformer is a glam-rockin' classic, but what about his other stuff? As is widely known, it's largely hit-or-miss (and mostly miss). But the Transformer follow-up, Berlin, is an exception. At the time of its release, fans and critics had been expecting something else like its predecessor-- upbeat, catchy, groovy. What they got was a package of ten spiteful, depressing tracks about poverty, drug abuse and suicide. Suffice to say, it flopped.

In retrospect, Berlin is among Reed's finest solo works. His general attitude throughout the record is one of having lost hope, his lyrical insights articulating sentiments we've all felt before: On one track, he sings that "Men of good fortune/ Very often can't do a thing/ While men of poor beginnings/ Often can do anything." On "The Bed", Reed sings, "This is the place we used to live/ I paid for it with love and blood." "Sad Song" reveals, "She seemed very regal to me/ Just goes to show how wrong you can be." It's these words that connect Reed with humanity.

Concept albums were all the rage in the 1970s, and this ranks up there with the best of them. But as with most records this far ahead of their time, Berlin was generally underrated, and simply hasn't been given another chance to prove itself. Now that it's been reissued, that chance may finally have come.