Berlin

The idea of revisiting an album in a live setting is certainly nothing new, but it’s especially tricky if said album fell flat upon its release. Still, if you believe time heals wounds and badly received records, then you have to appreciate the revival of Berlin, Lou Reed’s doleful concept album from 1973. Even if you can’t quite wrap yourself around Reed’s monotone, the arrangements and players the singer surrounded himself with tend to lift any lingering doubts about the power of the piece. For director Julian Schnabel, an Academy Award nominee for The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, Berlin deserved an on-stage resurgence he wanted to film. When it actually happened in December 2006 at the St. Ann's Warehouse in Brooklyn, New York, the results exceeded everyone’s expectations.

Berlin is the story of Jim and Caroline, a drug-addicted with a one-way ticket to nowhere. Reed has said each of the songs on Berlin is a character study that comprises a loose, shadowy concept — perhaps more of an in-the-moment, stream-of-consciousness, slice-of-life examination than a anecdote with a moral and purpose. That really explains a lot of what Reed writes about — the underbelly, the seedy, life’s demented and outcasts who dangle over the edge. Clearly, in 1973, it was taboo to venture into these areas, and it most certainly didn’t provide the idle enjoyment and introspection music fans were seeking in those days. This was Schnabel’s challenge — and he seized it with empathy, conviction and an artist’s eye. By assimilating dramatized film visages, a wash of colors on a backdrop, and a stoic group of musicians and singers, Berlin rises from the catacombs to become a visual and aural spread of unimaginable power.

Having a clutch band that includes guitarist Steve Hunter, who played on the original record, along with bassists Fernando Saunders and Rob Wassermann, singer Antony, pianist Rupert Christie, a seven-piece orchestra and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus didn’t hurt in presenting the piece as full and realized as possible. Reed leads the way, paying his respects in “Berlin,” before getting down and dirty on ditties like “Men Of Good Fortune,” “Caroline Says I” and “How Do You Think It Feels.” After Reed mumbles through an encore duet with Antony on “Candy Says,” from the Velvet’s third, self-titled album, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoyed the ride. To settle the score, he finishes up with the more recent, unexpectedly provocative slap of “Rock Minuet” before going long with “Sweet Jane,” which jams away as the credits roll. What a beautiful ending to a tragic story.

~ Shawn Perry