Revisiting ‘Kicks’, Lou Reed’s most underrated song
As the central bandleader of The Velvet Underground, Lou Reed sat at the eye of a perfect artistic storm. His evocative, gritty lyrics found a fertile haven amid the compositional prowess of his early partner, John Cale and the band’s crucial collaborator and visual art director, Andy Warhol. Although they couldn’t compete with New York contemporaries like Simon and Garfunkel in the charts, their legacy endures, a principal cornerstone for countless subsequent artists right up to the present.
Although it wasn’t aptly appreciated in its time, The Velvet Underground struck gold in their seminal 1967 debut album featuring Nico. Attesting the irony of such flowery, hippie-sympathising tracks as ‘Sunday Morning’ and ‘I’ll Be Your Mirror’ were dark, unprecedented scapes fraught with references to drug abuse and salacious antics in a vivid, unfiltered reflection of the New York streets.
Songs like ‘Heroin’, ‘Venus In Furs’ and ‘I’m Waiting For The Man’ gave a first glimpse at Reed’s preferred songwriting facade, one he would frequently return to, in one fashion or another, throughout the remainder of his career.
The Velvet Underground continued into the early 1970s, releasing increasingly commercially driven material following 1968’s notably esoteric marvel, White Light/White Heat and Cale’s concurrent departure. Although the band garnered a broader cult following, Reed’s patience wore thin as he left to pursue a solo career.
Reed’s solo ventures set off on a downward trajectory but were salvaged by David Bowie in 1972, when the rising British star and his bandmate Mick Ronson agreed to collaborate with Reed on his glam masterpiece, Transformer. To this day, Transformer seems to eclipse Reed’s solo oeuvre as a diamond in the rough, but giving Metal Machine Music and Lulu a wide birth, we can locate records of equal merit.
One such solo success was 1975’s Coney Island Baby. Like Reed’s brilliant 1973 album, Berlin, Coney Island Baby follows a loose narrative. Although it’s not as dark and gritty as Reed’s most characteristic material, this deeply romantic album pokes thorns between the plush, sentimental roses; ‘Kicks’ is most certainly one of these.
‘A Gift’ exposes Reed’s conceited side; ‘Charley’s Girl’ portrays a story of deceit on New Year’s Eve, and the closing title track is a beautiful meditation on childhood courage and “the glory of love”. ‘Kicks’ sits on the album as a pariah, an entity of its own at odds with the ubiquitous pop rhythms and heart-warming sentimentality.
Instead, ‘Kicks’ is a welcomed return to Reed’s roots, perhaps documenting his early adult years with The Velvet Underground. Like ‘Heroin’, the track returns to the songwriter’s favourite muse: addiction. However, this time, we enjoy a psychotic, homicidal twist that forebodes Talking Heads’ breakout single of 1977.
Reed’s psycho killer doesn’t appear to need sex or drugs to get his “kicks”. Instead, he likes to slash innocent necks and watch the blood pour. “In the newspaper that you had with you that night/ You did it so, ah, crudely, now/ With that blood coming down his chest/ It was way better than sex, now, now/ It was way better than getting laid,” Reed sings in a style reminiscent of William S. Burroughs’ “cut-up” writing technique.
Although Coney Island Baby finds itself eclipsed by Transformer and, in turn, ‘Kicks’ is eclipsed by the album’s anthemic title track and punchy pop songs, this underappreciated gem deserves equal attention.
Accompanying the chilling story of a murderous psychopath is a cleverly devised rhythm that, as in ‘Heroin’, symbolises a pounding rush of adrenaline. The stuttering progression of the song gives the illusion of acceleration, creating tension appropriate for such a thrilling narrative.
All the while, Bob Kulick’s masterful guitar licks are interspersed by indecipherable ambient conversation snippets that occasionally stab the ears with malicious intent. This crucial, rather progressive dimension completes the artistic product as a feverish nightmare of Malcolm Lowry-harkening lyrical delusion.
Listen below to Lou Reed’s wonderfully unsettling yet underappreciated solo gem, ‘Kicks’.
