Lou Reed – ‘Transformer’
As the frontman of The Velvet Underground, Lou Reed became one of the most influential musicians of his generation. Reed pioneered a new sound that blended avant-garde and experimental rock with flavours of proto-punk and noise rock. Although the band weren’t commercially successful during their short run, they became staples of New York’s underground scene, closely associating themselves with Andy Warhol and his milieu.
However, following the dissolution of The Velvet Underground, Reed found himself working as a typist for his father and no longer an icon of a movement he helped to pioneer. Although he released his first solo album at the beginning of 1972, critics received it poorly, and Reed was left feeling creatively perforated. Luckily, he struck a deal with David Bowie, a fan of The Velvet Underground, who agreed to produce Reed’s next album with Mick Ronson. Transformer was released in November of that year and is now considered a cornerstone of the glam rock genre.
The influence of Bowie and Ronson, who had shared the seminal record The Rise and Fall of Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars a few months prior, is glaringly apparent on Transformer. Yet Reed’s effort isn’t simply a cheap imitation of Bowie’s sound – after all, the British musician was greatly inspired by the Velvet Underground. Instead, Reed blends the emergent glam rock sound with echoes of The Velvet’s raw guitars, whirlwinds of string instruments, and his signature musings on New York’s misfits and outcasts.
Opening the album is ‘Vicious’, which retains the abrasive guitars of the Velvet Underground yet sounds considerably more polished, as signalled by the smooth backing vocals, which add a dynamic warmth to the track. It feels like the perfect unification between Reed’s early work and his new glam rock direction, also taking lyrical cues from his old friend, Warhol, who told the musician to include the humorous line “You hit me with a flower”.
In fact, the artist’s influence is prevalent throughout the entirety of the album, as demonstrated by the following track, ‘Andy’s Chest’, which was written to cheer Warhol up after Valerie Solanis shot him. It’s a triumphant song – full of tongue-in-cheek lyrics – yet it’s quickly overshadowed by the brilliance of ‘Perfect Day’, easily one of the best pieces of music Reed ever recorded. Beginning with gentle piano notes, the musician refines his vocal delivery as he simply discusses his perfect day with a loved one, which includes drinking sangria in the park, feeding animals in the zoo, and watching a movie. Each chorus is a euphoric outburst of passion, heightened by the use of strings and keys, although Reed quickly underscores the joy with tinges of hesitancy, reflected in the lines, “Just a perfect day, you made me forget myself/ I thought I was someone else, someone good.”
Reed’s biggest hit, meanwhile, ‘Walk on the Wild Side’, demonstrates his impeccable storytelling skills. It bears the everlasting impact of the characters he met at Warhol’s Factory, shining a light on the transgender and gay artists that were rarely the topic of mainstream media. The groundbreaking track remains a fascinating slice of history, immortalising important LGBTQ+ icons such as Candy Darling into song. The minimal instrumental palette highlights Reed’s ability to captivate audiences with the flair of his rich voice and unconventional lyrics.
Reed continues to explore taboo topics on Transformer with ‘Make Up’, a plodding, slow-paced description of a drag queen applying their make-up, with the musician singing, “Now, we’re coming out/ Out of our closets, Out on the streets,” suggesting that the subject is no longer afraid to hide who they really are. Reed’s continual dedication to highlighting underrepresented groups of people in his lyrics makes Transformer an incredibly bold and inspiring album. At the time, it was rare for such themes to be sung so brazenly, yet Reed explored them unapologetically.
‘Satellite of Love’ is yet another highlight, a track which sees Reed attempting to distract himself from his lover’s infidelity by watching a television broadcast about space travel. Bowie’s backing vocals add an extra level of grandiosity to the song, which is actually relatively simple, with most of the emphasis placed on Ronson’s keys. The penultimate track, ‘I’m So Free’, is another fabulous cut that makes up for the childlike ‘New York Telephone Conversation’, arguably the album’s weakest moment. On ‘I’m So Free’, potent guitar riffs accompany addictive “ohh ohh” backing vocals, making the track the perfect celebratory sing-along that remains criminally underrated.
The record ends on a dour note, with Reed lamenting a lost love on ‘Goodnight Ladies’, singing: “You said we could be friends, but that’s not what I want/ Ah, anyway, my TV dinner’s almost done/ It’s a lonely Saturday night.” It’s a beautifully executed track, propelled by luscious saxophones that wrap Transformer up in a bittersweet bow.
Reed found mainstream success for the first time with Transformer, capturing a snapshot of ’70s New York with lucidity and sharp wit, proving Reed’s skills as a storyteller as well as an innovative music-maker. Transformer contains plenty of slices of pure excellence, namely ‘Perfect Day’ and ‘Satellite of Love’, making it an essential record for everyone’s collection. Reed defined an era with his defiantly poetic lyrical explorations of taboo topics and his bold blend of classical instruments with coarse guitars, influencing generations of artists to come.
