Image credit: Skip and Josh Podcast
So, this is it. The final part (doo doo doo, doo). For those of you rightly confused, this is actually the final instalment of a three-part article series. In it, I’ve endeavoured to talk about a handful of albums that may possibly have mountains of problems working against them, but that, in the end, I come out enjoying anyway. In part one [link when up] we had LPs from Captain Beefheart, Napalm Death, and The Fall. Part 2 [link when up] saw appearances from Shaun Ryder, Fatboy Slim and Limp Bizkit. Now though, in this final part, I’ve arguably saved the strangest (and most interesting) examples til last. Prepare to have your mind bent.
Lou Reed and Metallica – Lulu (2011)
What might surprise some of you, is that perhaps of all the albums in this article/article series, this is easily the one I like the most. Yes, one of the most lambasted albums of all time turns out to be one of my favourites. As is customary though, let’s get some nitpicks out of the way first, most prominently, its length.
Granted, its feature film length does help in some spots to give a really cool sense of grandiosity and progression, but there are also a handful of moments that could’ve done with a trim. Critics have seized upon the fact that a lot of these songs very much feel like raw live performances, and I think I agree. The upshot is that while in one breath it lends these songs a sense of lightning in a bottle, freewheeling energy, sometimes it definitely felt like Metallica just looked at each other and went “let’s keep going” when they really didn’t need to, particularly on ‘Cheat On Me’ which really does start to meander after a while.
The same could be said for some of Lou’s contributions, take the string outro on ‘Junior Dad.’ It acts as a pretty nice, serene “credit roll” to the album if you like, but it does not need to be 8-9 minutes long. The only other track I’d take direct issue with is ‘Little Dog’. I understand the need to vary up the sound palette, especially on an album this long, but to have a song that’s this lowkey and atmospheric, that goes on for as long as it does this deep into the album seriously halts the momentum.
Metallica fans, get your pitchforks at the ready though, because I’ll say it again: I love this album, a lot. On a musical side, this thing is absolutely monstrous. The drums are huge and punchy, the bass is rumbling, the grooves exhilarating and heavy as hell, and the guitars oftentimes are gnarly as an unleashed rabid dog, or as intense as a giant killer robot stomping through a city.
Take ‘Frustration’ or ‘The View’ for example, both tracks whose grooves and riffs just emanate this sense of rawness, and heaviness, and gravitas, pure scrunched face inducing power and an epic sense of doom. A similar sense of epicness pervades the opening track, where despite James Hetfield’s slightly cheesy backing vocals, has this amazing sense of drama, and scale, framing it perfectly as the beginning of a vast musical journey, fit with sweeping riffs and slamming grooves.
Maybe the most exhilarating moment on the album is ‘Mistress Dread’, where the absolutely relentless drums, chainsaw guitars and eerie organs make it sound like the band are performing in the middle of a tornado. The sense of power is overwhelming, and it sounds like pure evil, in the best way.
This is a collab album though, and I think Lou has a lot more of a musical influence than may first be obvious. Some of the best moments come when Lou takes what would otherwise be pretty slamming prog metal instrumentals, and sees fit to paint them with a few art-rock-isms, creating something in the process that sounds like nothing Metallica did before or since, but are absolutely awesome all the same.
For as much as it’s structure drags, the continuum fingerboards and orchestral passages on ‘Cheat on Me’ make for a wonderfully ornate flourish, just as the tense building strings on ‘Dragon’ take a track that is already heavy and dramatic to the max, only to imbue it with an even further sense of domineering intensity, which works a treat. ‘Pumping Blood’ is particularly noteworthy though, as it seemingly integrates Metallica’s militant heaviness and sense of intimidation with some incredibly beautiful yet unsettling violin parts, adding further nuance to a track that is already deeply twisted and dark, making for maybe the best moment of all.
We were going to have to talk about the vocals eventually though, and this is definitely personal bias coming in, but I think Lou was perfect for this. Given my fandom of The Fall, spoken word metal sounds like a match made in heaven for me, and he absolutely delivers. Based on the plays of the same name by Frank Wedekind, Lou spends 90 minutes giving a suitably graphic retelling of a story of a young woman whose mind becomes irrevocably perverted by lust and power. It’s seriously intense stuff, and Lou really steps up to it, his lyrics often being so horrific, depraved and ripe with raw emotion and tragedy that it’s hard to sit through, particularly on songs like ‘Pumping Blood’ or ‘Dragon’ which is what makes it so great.
By a similar token, the incredibly uneasy and graphic descriptions of sex, lust and degradation on ‘Mistress Dread’, ‘Frustration’ and ‘Little Dog’, again, do not make for easily listening, but just how vivid and bold and dark Lou manages to portray these events as in the reader’s head is absolute genius. As far as delivery is concerned, some absolutely hate Lou’s gravelly old man voice, but surprise surprise, I disagree.
His regular dramatic narration for much of the album does a great job at giving these songs that final level of gravitas and intensity that, they seriously benefit from, also meaning that when he switches to a more emotive, explosive unkempt or fragile delivery at points throughout the album, the emotion behind them comes across flooring, particularly on the genuinely moving closer. Not to mention that the occasional burst of James Hetfield’s backing vocals.
While I’m not regularly a fan of his overacted delivery, it really helps to add a great bit of contrast, melodic flair and drama to what Lou’s doing, dare I say sometimes making for an unlikely great pairing. So yes, despite the overwhelming hate this album has received over time, I will die on the hill that it’s one of the most twisted, dramatic, intense, moving, and genius albums I’ve ever heard.
Iggy Pop – Free (2019)
If I’d have told you 20 years ago that the Godfather of Punk Iggy Pop would “go jazz”, you’d probably laugh in my face, and I can’t say I would’ve blamed you, but as we entered the 2000s, that seemed more and more a feasible reality. He flirted with the sound in a relatively light manner on his French based albums ‘Preliminaires’ and ‘Apres’, but with ‘Free’ in 2019, with the help of trumpeter and producer Leron Thomas, and experimental guitarist Noveller, rather than dip his toes, he took a full plunge, and the results are… mixed.
If anything my biggest problem with the album is honestly its sonics. I understand that because it’s quite a serene, contemplative, and subtly dark album, you’d want a sound palette to reflect that, but some of the songs, particularly ‘Love’s Missing’ or ‘James Bond’ suffer from being so caked in reverb, that any punch the drums and bass might hope to have is nearly gone entirely.
That’s not to say it’s the only problem, even production wise, as, perhaps because of the reverb, so many of the performances, particularly on the front end, just sound needlessly stilted, and not very organic, or free, ironically enough, a fate from which the freewheeling ‘Glow In The Dark’ particularly gets the brunt end of, unfortunately. It says a lot that I listened to the versions from a live Radio 6 session for months before returning to the album, simply because it sounds so much better.
On the topic of individual songs, the only track I’d say is a straight miss is ‘Dirty Sanchez’. I don’t think anyone could do well with a jazz-rock tirade against internet porn, but aside from some decent trumpet lines, no one really covers themselves in glory here, Iggy’s yelpy vocals seriously not helping matters. As a final critique, while I do like the instrumental on the opener, and Iggy’s recital of the Dylan Thomas poem ‘Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night’ is fairly well handled, like I said with ‘Levitate’ in part 1, we really didn’t need two versions of the same song, especially when the runtime barely breaches half an hour.
Aside from those complaints though, this album has a ton of great stuff to offer, and even has become a very significant album in my life in recent times. On the first half of the record, aside from the production, the songs at their core are pretty damn good, whether it’s the belligerent New York rock on ‘Love’s Missing’, the atmospheric, subtly electronic, woozy ‘Sonali’, or the strutting, noir-tinged ‘James Bond’, they all make for some very enjoyable moments, with not only some great musicians holding everything down, but Iggy really putting his best foot forward too for a lot of the album.
On that point, in his old age, some may find Iggy’s warbly crooning a bit off putting, and I admit, sometimes it can be a bit much, but in my head it gives a lot of these songs a gravitas, and an emotion, and a kind of world weary sense of wisdom they mightn’t have otherwise, whether you’re talking about the bashing climax on ‘Love’s Missing’, or the unexpectedly beautiful and fragile ‘Page.’ The structure of the album is another thing that might divide listeners, but I think works in its favour, the first half being more conventional “songs”, while the second half is much more loose and freeform, and it’s here where some real gems lie.
I’ve already talked about ‘Page’, with its serene guitar layers and emotive trumpet lines, but the slowly building, intense climactic explosion on ‘Glow In The Dark’ is also really great and blood pumping (though I’d definitely say watch the live version too), and while I expressed confusion at the duplicate track on the Dylan Thomas cover, it is unquestionably an incredibly moving piece of music. Furthermore, while it may seem an odd vignette, the dramatic monologue and dark, doomy pads on ‘The Dawn’ seem a fitting closer, dramatically fading off into the distance rather than end with a bang, occasional bright melodies perforating the dark atmosphere.
The album’s masterpiece though, is another cover, an interpretation of an unearthed Lou Reed poem ‘We Are The People.’ I don’t entirely know what it is, but there’s something about Iggy’s authoritative yet reflective delivery, Lou’s descriptive yet stark words, and Leron’s bare yet highly emotive piano and trumpet duet that is just beyond words, moving me to tears nearly every time. Iggy Pop said with this album that there was something to the idea that he was sick of being the shirtless rocker guy, and wanted to do something else, really follow his heart. Fair to say, while there’s still some kinks to iron out, he certainly convinced me.
Autobitch – Sweat (2020)
Perhaps of all the albums I’ve ever heard, ‘Sweat’ by Autobitch might be the most difficult to describe, and I don’t say that lightly. After seeing a video from this duo come up in my YouTube feed one day, I was equal parts dumbfounded and utterly captivated. What the hell was going on here?
What makes this album so challenging is the fact that it’s so basic, so primitive, so rudimentary, that it barely manages to cross the line into classification as music at all. Tracks like ‘Holiday’, ‘Aaargh’, ‘Why Not’ and ‘Whaat’ mainly just feature percussionist Kim repeatedly banging on a floor tom while Katie manically shouts a repetitive refrain. Occasionally you might get the rustle of a tambourine, or the bleep of a synthesiser, but you should think yourself lucky if you do. Perhaps the reason for this is the way it was recorded, because it might not surprise you to learn that the album is not only totally unedited, but completely improvised.
According to a press release, “That’s what’s desirable about this LP; it’s completely in the moment, whatever comes up will be given its due. OVER TWO DAYS in LATE JULY 2017. WE LET THE TAPES ROLL AND PLAYED WHATEVER CAME TO US. THERE HAS BEEN NO EDITING SO WHAT YOU HEAR IS WHAT IS HAPPENING.” Safe to say, you can definitely tell. Some of the above mentioned tracks like ‘Why Not’ are so scant they border on “anti-music”, and other moments like ‘Lego Dad’, despite some amusing vocal sound effects, does feel indicative of a creative lull in the session.
The thing about Autobitch is, a lot of their music is so raw and so minimal and raw, that it loops around and becomes kind of genius, which for an album that’s entirely improvised, occurs surprisingly often.
Primarily they achieve this through the fact that, due to their music being as stripped down as it is, as well as the vocals and lyrics consisting of just whatever comes to Katie’s head, delivery alternating between weird half croon and manic yelp, they seem to almost tap into the most primal side of human emotions, equally flooring and terrifying. There are also moments that are weirdly humorous, and I think somewhat self aware of the fact, in the case of the childlike rebellion on ‘Jumper’, the slightly cartoony anger on ‘Aaaargh’, or the amusing sense of befuddlement put across on ‘Whaat.’
Where the album is truly noteworthy though, are in those emotions that are slightly murkier, more complex, harder to decode, and the duo’s message in these cases seems clear: figure it out yourself. Well, I tried, and I don’t think I have, but god it’s unsettling. Take the odd sense of unease expressed on the opening track ‘Holiday’, the very literal display of rage and exhaustion on ‘Water_I’m So Tired’, or ‘What Your Body’, which is maybe the least sexy song about sexual attraction physically conceivable.
Part of it might be that some of the narratives in these songs are so loose and nonsensical where you end up questioning your own sanity, like “I think I know what you mean, but do I?” How else could you explain the eerie ‘Locking Everything’, where a desire for freedom leads to a horse invading Katie’s house and inadvertently breaking her legs, or most terrifyingly of all, ‘Go Under’, where in an effort to impress a friend/lover, Katie nearly drowns herself, complete with scarily accurate vocal re-enactments. It sends shivers down my spine even now.
Its best moments though, are probably its most earnest, with the tracks ‘Mum’ and ‘Really Sad’. Here, Kim and Katie, accordion in hand (while still drumming mind you), regale the listener with tales and observations from a nostalgic youth. The former begins as a tender ode to Katie’s mother, with a generally optimistic message and recounts of childhood baths, before descending brilliantly into a chaotic, thundering, screaming ramble.
The latter, though, is seemingly the only track that isn’t infected with that trademark sense of darkness, as Katie, mindful of her deeply depressive mental state, seeks to recapture her naivete and happiness by riding bikes with her friends. It’s a genuinely heartwarming and moving moment, strangely enough making it a fitting closer.
I can almost guarantee that no-one reading this has heard this album, but please I implore you, go listen. It’s absolutely one of the most interesting, inventive, emotionally engaging albums I’ve ever heard. I didn’t think I’d be saying that about an album where the introduction of a snare drum is a notable occurrence, but there you are.
So, there you are. Across 3 articles I’ve scrutinised and dissected 9 albums that, in spite of their drawbacks, in my opinion, are more than worth attention. In some cases, they may even inspire genuine awe.
If there’s one thing you could take away from all of this, what I would say is that it’s very easy, in an age where everyone is a reviewer, to hear everyone’s scathing critiques of the stuff you love screamed from the digital rooftops, and have that unfortunately dilute your love for it. However, as I’ve hopefully managed to illustrate, even our favourite albums are almost never perfect. They might have little nitpicks, or even sometimes glaring flaws, but if you enjoy them, even in spite of that, surely that’s all that matters?
