Lou Reed - 'Berlin: Live At St Ann's Warehouse' (Matador) Released 27/10/08

When Lou Reed released ‘Berlin’ in 1973, critics were left baffled by the departure from the accessible glam rock of the hugely popular ‘Transformer’ which preceded it. Chronicling the life of a young couple spiralling downward through drug addiction, and the tragedy that followed, it was an extremely powerful piece of work and hard for many to swallow.

In retrospect, perhaps a result of the numerous releases of artists inspired by ‘Berlin’, it is difficult to see why it was not instantly recognised as a classic work of art. Lyrical themes such as drug addiction, prostitution, and ultimately, suicide, make this an extremely dark album, yet lilting string arrangements and orchestration, as well as the more traditional rock instrumentation, keep ‘Berlin’ musically accessible, and not as massive a departure from ‘Transformer’ as original reviews would have you believe.

Those original reviews also served to shelve original plans to perform the album in its entirety as a rock opera, with Reed rarely revisiting tracks from ‘Berlin’ in live performances. It was only after more than thirty years of changing perception of the album that those plans were finally accomplished in 2006, when, backed by a full band, seven piece orchestra, and choir, Reed sold out St. Ann’s Warehouse for four consecutive nights.

The album is faithfully reproduced in its entirety, the live version containing far harsher dynamics than the original recording. So it is that the transition from the soft, wandering piano of ‘Berlin’ to the harsh guitar riffs of ‘Lady Day’ are even more affecting when heard in this context. As a whole, it sounds more raw – in no means inferior – and so, stands up as being just as powerful and emotionally resonant as the original. Recreating such a dark work is no easy task, and this does more so, actually connecting in a more visceral sense as the loud parts become even more jarring, the quiet even more haunting.

Lou Reed, now mid-sixties, is able to match his original performance, the experience of years even adding to the sense of emotion and tragedy. Where on the album, for the most part he downplayed the vocals to allow the orchestration to take centre stage, at certain points here (‘Men Of Good Fortune’, ‘Caroline Says I’) the dynamics force his voice into a far more aggressive delivery, competing with the instruments to be heard.

Musically, this really does sound as if each of the numerous musicians has lived the tragedy out personally, and poured that into their playing. Tracks like ‘Oh, Jim’ and ‘The Kids’ often feature full on orchestration, with calamitous, discordant strings and veering guitar lines a literal expression of the manic lifestyle of the two subjects, and Reed’s own wavering vocal, sounding like it’s almost off key, which fits perfectly in with the theme of the story.

‘The Bed’ chronicles the final suicide of Caroline, the main character of ‘Berlin’. The poignancy of the situation is perfectly captured, suiting Reed’s downbeat, unstable yet definite vocal, and minimalistic musical backdrop to a tee. The imagery used in the lyrics lends weight to the emotional punch of Berlin’s tragic story: “This is the place where she lay her head, when she went to bed at night | And this is the place our children were conceived, Candles lit the room brightly at night | And this is the place where she cut her wrists, That odd and fateful night.”

The encore consists of three tracks (‘Candy Says’, ‘Rock Minuet’, and ‘Sweet Jane’) not originally connected with ‘Berlin’, yet they sound as if they were part of the original. It is original album closer ‘Sad Song’ that really captures the essence of the album though. Reprising musical themes that ran throughout the album, it sounds like an aural epitaph, a tribute to the tragedy of Caroline, just as this live album is a glorious tribute to ‘Berlin’, and every bit as haunting and powerful.