Lou Reed’s Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal and the Excellence of Excess

Remembering an album that gave the Velvet Underground a glam makeover

February 27, 2024February 27, 2024 Ted Miller 0 Comments 1974, David Lee Roth, Dick Wagner, Heroin, Lou Reed, RCA Records, Rock 'n' Roll, Rock 'n' Roll Animal, Steve Hunter, Sweet Jane, The Kinks, The Velvet Underground, White Light/White Heat

Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal retail poster (Image: Legacy Recordings)

Remember the Fully Loaded Edition of Loaded?

With a sloppy-Stones, wham-bam “Satellite of Love” and a comely-Dylan, winsome “I Found a Reason,” harmonica and all, that just happens to be my favorite Velvets recording, period? The live Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal was the Scattered, Smothered and Covered Edition, dunked in eyeliner with extra cheese. It was also, oops, the best album Lou Reed released under his own name until he brought in Robert Quine.

And since 36 of its 40 minutes are devoted to the Velvets, “under his own name” deserves at least a snicker. So do these reimaginings, which recast the most influential countercultural band as Tommy fodder, glam hucksters dressing up as Jesus Christ Superstars to sneak themselves into arenas and snort up all of Clapton’s cocaine. Especially in terms of the gratuitous wall of guitars Lou constructed here with Dick Wagner and Steve Hunter, both of whom also played with Alice Cooper. Keyboardist Ray Colcord, meanwhile, would go on to compose music for sitcoms like Silver Spoons and 227.

Lou Reed Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal, RCA Records 1974

Animal wasn’t where Lou Reed invented a half a century’s worth of what I’ll term Rock ‘n’ Troll, but it’s where he perfected it. The key was his career-long commitment to the bit. Anytime he did something that dared his audience to call his bluff — from “I Wanna Be Black” to “Egg Cream” to Lulu — he stood by even his, um, blackest jokes with stone-faced sincerity. Should you dare to call bullshit, well…in the best-case scenario you’re Lester Bangs joining in on the fun screaming at each other as your vision increasingly blurs from blotto. In the worst-case scenario, you’re probably the best interviewer on Earth and being walked out on by him.

For whatever reason, rock at large had trouble believing Reed had fun without it being at their expense. Rapping about safe sex on “The Original Wrapper,” pumping danceable gated drums on “I Love You Suzanne” four years before “Got My Mind Set on You,” casting Steve Buscemi on The Raven, come on. The man was sired by Warhol. He knows how to party. So when I say this album has even more fun than “Walk on the Wild Side,” there’s no reason not to believe it. Sure, everyone’s heard the androgynous celebration of “Sweet Jane” blown out into steroidal, point-missing meathead glory, be it Mott the Hoople or Brownsville Station (or Miley Cyrus’ aerated blowtorch rendition). But have you gotten your 13-minute fix of “Heroin” fitted with more than one harmonized guitar solo that quotes “Auld Lang Syne?”

Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal magazine ad (Image: Etsy)

I know that’s like saying these drugs are on drugs themselves, but this is a quintessential document of the moment when Reed realized that sellouts can afford better junk. The Velvet Underground originals sound sober by comparison; spin the thing enough and you’ll wonder where did all the cardiac-arrest axe-shredding go. All the phaser pedals! Berlin’s completely unrecognizable “Lady Day” is included as, I guess, penance, a little scarlet-letter reminder that this “White Light/White Heat” with Muppets on Ice masterwork was our moneyback guarantee for enduring Berlin itself. The man had been warning of the dangers of decadent excesses for so long, yet he never quite showed us that junkiedom could turn you into the Liberace/Jim Henson Nutcracker version of glam-prog. This “White Heat” is like if The Kinks’ “You Really Got Me” and the Van Halen version were both by the same guy.

And then he made Metal Machine Music the very next year. Really, what a goofball. What an animal.