•
Rating: I don't know whether to title this review of Lou Reed's concert from the other night (July 11, 2007) at Parco della Pellerina in Turin
A) if I had paid, I would be quite irritated
or
B) thank goodness for Steve Hunter
or - as I believe I will title it -
C) I'm just a tired man
as the old Lou sang during "The Kids," a succinct phrase in which a sacred admission of guilt is concealed.
Let's forget about the disgusting chaos created in the infamous setting of Parco della Pellerina which here in Turin they insist on giving to Traffic Festival, the result of the disgraceful debacle of last night's organization (branded with the usual grandiose French-philic arrogance combined with chronic indifferent incompetence typical of the Terroni, which continually eats away at the former Savoy capital), starting with those damn chairs + barriers + shitty VIP area set up to cater to the whims of that idiot Lou Reed who thinks he's at the Metropolitan even when he's playing at Passamarina di Sotto, without realizing that he's dealing with Italians, who never miss an opportunity like this to show that they are half a step above the beasts only because they speak (some of them, at least).
Let's then premise that the album "Berlin" is an absolute masterpiece that - among the wonderful things Lou has done - I love dearly, along with or perhaps more than "Street Hassle" - one a decadent monument transposed elsewhere to post-certainty America of the early '70s, the other a sound fresco painting this decade that's passing away (while I love "Rock Minuet" less, which I feel is the "Street Hassle" of the poor) - and also admitting that I have not had, and I think I will not have in the future, the opportunity to attend other performances of this show (which perhaps plays better in a theater), here I am obliged to say that I interpret this revisitation of "Berlin" as an ambitious and somewhat megalomaniacal project that - like all pretentious projects - requires perfect execution to truly succeed.
Unfortunately, this - at least last night - wasn't the case.
Firstly, I'm not sure if it was just the fault of the venue (notoriously bad acoustics) but the result of the mixing was extremely lacking, alternately making the orchestra's brass blare or Fernando Saunders's bass boom without letting a damn thing be heard of what Lorenzo was doing with the 14,835 guitars he changed, rendering the endless repetitions of the refrains sung by the choir useless, long, and boring, which - I assume - were meant to leave space for the guitars. But perhaps up to this point, it's just as well, because when something was heard, and we got to enjoy a solo from the former Coney Island baby, one honestly couldn't quite tell who he wanted to be... perhaps - a chilling thought - he thought he was still Lou Reed.
Thankfully, as mentioned, there was Mr. "R'n'R animal" Steve Hunter, who did the only truly splendid things of the evening by pulling out a couple of beautiful solos and a splendid extra on "Sweet Jane" (but why didn't they let him also do the intro, I wonder, why, why?).
Afterwards, the night. From Lou, just the figure of a "tired man" lost in idle gestures like a grim conductor he loves so much, between calling the end of songs and directing the more than patient Saunders in a bland duet of uvular warbles with the audience on "Satellite of Love," and a torn and hoarse voice, which already at the sound check couldn't come out unscathed from the simplest phrasings, too tired and dull to be listenable, stretched and croaking to the point of having to drop two octaves to still manage to blow something into the microphone. From the whole ensemble (various instrumentalists - occasional exceptions to Steve Hunter - plus the New Children Choir and members of the London Metropolitan Orchestra), only wrong endings and attacks and too many unnecessary stops where much, much more fluidity would have been necessary. Let's say, for brevity's sake, not all of these new arrangements seem right to me.
Let's be clear, the basic idea was good, but to bring out its best would have required a Lou of old, not the dinosaur carcass he has become now: from a transgressor like him, I would have expected a radical choice, like having the courage to bring someone talented and put them on stage to sing and play for him, like what happened at the end when half of "Sweet Jane" was sung by the backing vocalist (one Sharon Jones who was decent but not as brilliant as she should have been - see above regarding the necessity of doing pretentious things well - proving to be a kitten when a panther was needed), and when three-quarters of "Satellite of Love" were handled by Fernando Saunders.
Also, the video screen director, by the way, was an idiot who kept placing the cameras only and always on the choir.
So what to say?
Dear Lorenzo, in your time you were a great and sometimes even a very great, but here it's not enough to put behind you the dazzling visual magic of your friends Schnabel with the blonde Seigner redoing Christa P., and you fleetingly appearing both in the wandering images on the floral wallpaper of the set and as - alas - a former rock star in poor shape on the stage... So excuse me, but in this concert of yours - which you think I should then tell my children about - I was missing something, or rather, too much. What? Surely you, because I saw you up there, but I don't know where you really were... Why do you do these things? Do you still really believe in them? Or was my better half right, maybe less passionate about music than me but a sharp and critical observer of humanity, who at the end of your concert, observing the pompous satisfaction and all the dripping self-congratulation you bathed in while greeting the audience, told me, "This is not a Lou Reed concert for Turin, this is a Lou Reed concert for Lou Reed... Lou Reed went to see the people at his concert...".
I really couldn't argue with her.
Loading comments slowly
