ARTIST: Lou Reed & Metallica
ALBUM TITLE: Lulu
RECORD LABEL: Warner Bros.
RELEASED: November 1, 2011

By Eric Stuckart
Creator, Destroyer

Having been a Metallica fan in one form or another for more than half my life, I’ve learned that it’s one of the more difficult things to do sometimes. Considering how many times the band has up and shit on their fans from time to time — at least from many fans’ perspectives, it’s kind of expected for the group to do something that pisses everyone off. It’s one of the byproducts that we’ve been rewarded with ever since the band skyrocketed to superstardom, way back in the 90s.

That being said, you could take it at face value, and expect them to do something even more outlandish each and every time, or you could be one of those that gets more and more upset each time the band gets “creative.” Personally speaking, I generally just take it all with stride. After all, nothing stays gold forever, and at the very least, I respect their attempts to do something different from time to time, rather than release the same album over and over for three decades. It could always be worse, right?

However, not even my hopeful optimism and general tolerance — or perhaps indifference — to bullshit musical vanity projects could have prepared me for what was in store when Metallica first previewed “The View,” off of their collaborative effort with Lou Reed. While calling it a vanity project might be a bit of a stretch, it’s certainly the type of material that isn’t likely to be played very often, at least not for the enjoyment of music at least. Hell, it took me a whole month of letting this one roll around in my head before I could even find the words to properly assess the thing.

Based on a pair of hundred year old plays by German Playwright Frank Wedekind about a young dancer that climbs the social ladder only to fall on hard times and eventually prostitution, it’s decidedly more a Lou Reed project than the other way around. With Lulu, it’s possible that Reed, who tells his spoken word poetry over Metallica’s backing music, has played the greatest prank on the music-listening masses since Metal Machine Music — a 1975 noise/ambient album that consisted of little more than an hour of feedback loops.

Musically, it sounds like Metallica gleaned most of their inspiration from their midtempo, alternative-flavored Load/Reload era, with a slightly faster, thrashier riff poking through from time to time. And while Metallica singer/guitarist James Hetfield gives it his all in most of his vocal performances, it can’t really make up for Reed’s delivery, given in mostly spoken, dry spurts. The two artistic entities couldn’t sound more uncomplimentary if they tried. Most of the time, Reed sounds as though he just read the poems out into the mic, regardless of the songs’ tempos or sound. There’s barely any melody, and his unflinching, intense delivery cuts the songs no favors.

In short, most of Lulu sounds like Metallica demos with an old man’s incoherent ramblings just pasted over the top. While I’m not sure if that was the intended effect or not, his “singing” further separates the music from anything resembling normal music by either of them. From time to time, the two forces lock into each other and Lulu actually sounds like music, such as on the lead single “Iced Honey” and during chunks of “Dragon,” but most of it is just angular, art-house music by a bunch of old guys that didn’t have anyone tell them that this might not have been the best idea.

Lyrically, Lulu is a gold mine of self-deprecation and confusion. While Reed’s poetic rants are written from the perspective of the titular dancer in question, it’s hard to not accidentally read between the lines and interpret much of what he has to say as introspective as well. And some of the songs’ lyrics — when they’re not trying to shock with pseudo-misogynistic ravings — cut rather deep, lashing out at both Reed and the listener. His words are even more uncomfortable than the music that they created to support it on.

It’s hard to justify anything that is found on Lulu from the perspective of a fan of traditional music, as this is a different beast entirely. I get the impression listening to it that perhaps they should have gone the extra mile and recorded this as a long form video album, or a short film accompanied by the music, rather than an album release, because this is the type of thing that would really benefit from a bit of visual stimulation. It’s uncomfortable, hateful, and one of the most vitriolic things I’ve listened to, and while I don’t hate it, I can’t really recommend it either. Ultimately, Lulu is one of those albums that doesn’t really stand up on its own without sitting there, reading the lyrics and focusing on the story at hand, and that’s its greatest shortcoming. It’s not something you can just throw on and listen to. Sure, that’s kind of the point, but considering how dark and perverse the material can get, it’s not something that invites many returns.

RATING: 3/10

Front photo and interior photo by Anton Corbijn. Courtesy of Warner Bros. Records.