The Bells

Lou Reed - "The Bells" (1979) - Arista

"Lou Reed is a prick and a jerkoff who regularly commits the ultimate sin of treating his audience with contempt."-- Lester Bangs from his Rolling Stone review of The Bells-- "He's also a person with deep compassion for a great many other people about whom almost nobody else gives a shit."

Hello Friends,

Lou Reed would begin the 1970's with The Velvet Underground's most ambitious record, Loaded, and would re-define himself multiple times throughout the decade: rock star, poet, avant-garde artist, junkie & sad sac.

He winds up the decade with the 1979 record, The Bells, a record far below most people's radars.  Of course, we're big fans of almost all things related to Uncle Lou here on Vinyl in the Valley and The Bells is no exception!

Its an ambitious mashup of classic Reed songwriting among plenty of jazz, funk, R&B, disco and doo-wop.  While a lot of his contemporaries were going more "minimal" or punk, The Bells almost sounds as if Lou wanted to take over Bruce Springsteen's spot in the E Street Band.  (Springsteen actually cameo'd on Reed's previous record, 1978's Street Hassle.) The results are of course weird and, for the most part, wonderful.

The songs and characters on The Bells are all about outsiders looking for in, longing to be loved, longing to be accepted.  Deadbeat dads; exiled actors; children who have returned to their suburban homes only to realize that living on their own in the big city have turned them into psychic ghouls-- at least in the eyes of the families.  

Its like Dickens, only in reverse.

The albums kicks off with the short & jazzy, "Stupid Man" about a narrator who regretfully escapes from his home and family only to beg that his wife "to please say hello" and "give a great big kiss" to his "little baby daughter".

Ever the wordsmith, the lyrics to the next song, "Disco Mystic", are as follows:

"DISCO. DISCO MYSTIC"  (repeat about 40 times).

In nearly anyone else's hands, "Disco Mystic" would be grating, indulgent & annoying, but somehow Sweet Lou pulls it off!  Its hypnotic, catchy and if you buy the theory that Lou Reed was to 1970's New York City as Charles Dickens was to 19th Century London, its as much a comment on the narcissism, monotony and decadence of the NYC disco scene of the late 70's. 

The third song on the album is one our absolute favorite Lou Reed songs, "I Want To Boogie With You".  Its a great song for slow dancing drunk with your girl on a Friday or Saturday night.




With its manic vocals and horn-section, "With You" has a "Whatever Gets You Thru The Night"-vibe.  At any moment, you wouldn't be surprised to hear, "Live from New York... It's Saturday Night!"  (Also, this song like two or three others on this record are co-written by ex-Crazy Horse & future E Streeter, Nils Lofgren.)

The mania continues on the frantic "Looking For Love", featuring some raucous sax playing by Marty Fogel!  

The Side concludes with the bizzaro-sounding, "City Lights"-- a song that's both a tribute to the late Charlie Chaplin as well as a not-so subtle anti-censorship statement.  Its a decent song (also co-written with Lofgren) and has Lou hitting the perhaps his deepest and lowest vocals ever on record.  (Low Reed?)

Side Two begins with Reed's ode to dark and lonely New York City nights, "All Through The Night".  To be honest, this one does get a little annoying.  There's a whining saxophone riff throughout and the song seems to be (purposely) cluttered with random background/party noise, conversations and speeches.  Also, his vocals here kind of remind us of Adam Sandler a little bit.  Which is good for Sandler, not so much for Lou.

Things rebound on "Families", a more classic-sounding Reed song, which despite the rather upbeat musicianship is about a heartbreaking return to his childhood "home":

And now that dog's more of a part of this family
Then I am, too
I don't come home much anymore
No, no, no, I don't come home much anymore, mama

And mama, I know how disappointed you are
And papa, I know that you feel the same way, too
And no, no, no, no, no, I still haven't got married
And no, no, no, there's no grandson planned here for you
...

But papa, I know that this visit's a mistake
There's nothing here we have in common, except our name

And families that live out in the suburbs
Often make each other cry
And I don't think that I'll come home much anymore
No, no, I don't think I'll come home much again

The album concludes with the amazing 9 minute title track which features some fantastic trumpet-playing by frequent Ornette Coleman side man, Don Cherry.  A haunting & hypnotic space-jazz jam (think Sun Ra meets Berlin-era Bowie) that builds and builds against some incomprehensible spoken dialogue and Reed's lyrics about an actor hanging out on a ledge in New York City.  Just as he jumps (or doesn't) he proclaims, "Look there are the bells... here come the bells!"  

RATING: 4.5 families that live out in the suburbs often make each other cry out of 5