Lou Reed with this album closes in on himself.
If Andy Warhol and David Bowie, geniuses of pop-rock-art, coated an existential void with a diaphanous commerciality perceivable behind the music and lyrics, here Reed is not afraid to throw his discomfort at the listener, his weakness as a man, masochistic yet crystalline.
His partner had just attempted suicide, he was being led by others into a glam-rock in which he did not recognize himself, into a falsely carefree ambiguity. Here Reed strips himself bare, poetically, cruel towards himself. He recounts his inferiority complex towards women, frustration leading to feelings of revenge, his excessive emotionality ("I am the water-boy"). Always with a veil of ambiguity in the dialogue with role-swapping between Caroline and Jim.
Now it is Caroline saying that Jim is not a man, now it is Jim "treating Carol badly." The need for love of overly subtle sensitivities will end in the destruction of Sad Song, where the look towards the future arises from a tragic indifference towards the other.
A musically and melodically particular album, with heavy cadences, that from a distance is loved like a sincere friend.
"He could have recorded 'Transformer 2-transformer 3' and other versions of 'Walk on the wild side.' But instead, he decided to undertake the most courageous act ever seen in pop history."
"Berlin. The absolute masterpiece (among the many) of the New York author deserves a place among the greatest records of the 20th century."
Berlin is a record that wounds, shocks, destroys.
An unattainable album that forces the listener to immerse into the coils of a gloomy atmosphere.
Beyond being beautiful and particularly inspired, this album becomes indelibly linked to episodes in one’s life.
This CD, which, beyond anything else, will always be a unique and unforgettable album for me.
One evening I put on "Berlin." It was raining outside. I floated in a shabby and dusty leather armchair and in the dark, I listened in reverent silence, when I understood.
I had too many problems and she didn’t want to be involved. She was tired of being with someone who only played the role of the loser.
The main problem is Lou Reed himself, with his monotonous, clinical, and borderline unmelodic singing.
Essentially, the album sounds bad, and not because the arrangements are intentionally sparse, but because it often lacks a fundamental blend between the various components.