Customer Reviews

The Bells

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(10)
3 star:		(5)
2 star:		(3)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

For me, Lou Reed's output in the 1970s is some of his best material, with his very unusual "The Bells" near the peak for that decade. An enigmatic, though thoughtful, foray into jazz-rock experimentation, "The Bells" finds Reed delving further into territory he had been previously exploring with "Rock and Roll Heart" and "Street Hassle".

Unlike those albums, here Reed really lets loose and tries on several different musical personas ranging from progressive jazz to dixieland. His band, with which he co-wrote almost all of the songs, is supplemented by the appearance of noted jazz trumpeter Don Cherry. Cherry and sax player Marty Fogel -- who arranged all of the elaborately layered horn parts -- are particularly outstanding.

Curiously, three tracks ("Stupid Man", "With You", and "City Lights") were co-written with guitarist Nils Lofgren. This association was made possible by Bob Ezrin (producer of Reed's "Berlin" album), who gets a thank you in the album credits. [Three other Reed/Lofgren collaborations made it onto Lofgren's 1979 album entitled "Nils".]

The connecting threads that hold the whole thing together are the lyrics, Reed's most personal, before or since; never has he sounded so vulnerable. On "Stupid Man" and "Families", Reed sings about separation from loved ones by distances both physical and emotional. "Looking for Love" and "I Want to Boogie With You" are naked, yearning declarations, but sadly, the singer is all-too-convinced of his own inability to grasp that which he desires.

The epic title track -- featuring Reed's own favorite lyric -- continues to impress to this day. Sounding like a horrific collision between a 16th century baroque brass ensemble and Ornette Coleman's Prime Time outfit (with a touch of Gothic nightmarishness thrown in for good measure), it defies categorization.

Like many Reed albums (even acknowledged masterpieces like "Blue Mask" and "New York") this isn't a particularly likable one at first hearing. His singing may seem callous at times, and the musicians like they're all in separate rooms, but there is real artistry at work if you're willing to stick with it; I play "The Bells" even more than "Berlin" these days, favoring it's anti- emotional (almost anti-"atmosphere") stance. The album doesn't lull you into anything, and you often have to listen quite hard due to the production to hear what he's singing about. The most often misinterpreted thing on this album is the disco. But would Lou Reed, an intellectual postmodern rocker--in his late 30's at the time of this album--really want to "Boogie With You" in earnest? The poet is not making an attempt at being radio-worthy. He is appropriating the hipspeak of the moment, as is his custom, and re-packaging it for us in a way that we can glimpse it's absurdity, and, essentially, it's harmlessness and fun, too. Remember that moment in "Oh Jim" (Berlin) when Lou deadpans a sort of Shirelles "doo-doo-doo-doo-doo-doo" right after the words "Beat her black and blue..."? I have a notion that the same sensibility is at work from start to finish on this album.

I love the three gripping songs All Through The Night, Families and The Bells. The first is a description of an all-night drunken party or pub crawl which contains some of Reed's most poetic lyrics and acute observations against a backdrop of bar crowd sounds, with a killer rhythm. Co-written with Don Cherry (who contributes trumpet and African Hunting Guitar to the album), All Though The Night is an exploration of the "post partum" depression that follows the completion of a novel or an album, plus all sorts of other world-weariness.

Families is autobiographical and moving, with a line or two advising his dad to let his sister manage the family business. The sound is dominated by electric guitars and guitar- and bass guitar synthesisers and the mood is mournful. The Bells itself is an awesome, majestic experience, something Reed has never done before or since. Hard to describe, perhaps it is his exploration of what Bowie did on Low - those gothic tracks like Warszawa, Art Decade, Weeping Wall, etc. but with more vocals.

Dissonant, atmospheric and jazzy, the sound consists of a barely audible monologue under the wails and drones of the saxophones and gong sounds for an eerie feel. The intensity build up slowly while the vocals become audible and at its height, Reed intones the line Here Come The Bells, for a magnificent conclusion.

The others are short songs - Disco Mystic is an amusing comment on the disco fever of the late 70s, whilst I Want To Boogie With You is more sombre and serious. These fall in the disco commentary genre like Frank Zappa's Dancing Fool and Cristina Monet's Blame It On Disco on her Doll In The Box album, and as such are good, not great.

The Bells is an uneven album, but the aforementioned three exceptional songs merit the four stars. All Through The Night is a brilliant rock song with a lilting rhythm, Families is a slow, brooding piece whilst the title track is Reed at his experimental best. I recommend the album to all devoted fans, but not to newcomers to the music of Lou Reed.

For me, Lou Reed's output in the 1970s is his best material, with "The Bells" at the peak for that decade. An enigmatic, though thoughtful, foray into jazz-rock experimentation, "The Bells" finds Reed delving further into territory he had been previously exploring with "Rock and Roll Heart" and "Street Hassle".

Unlike those albums, here Reed really lets loose and tries on several different musical personas ranging from progressive jazz to dixieland. His band, with which he co-wrote almost all of the songs, is supplemented by the appearance of noted jazz trumpeter Don Cherry. Cherry and sax player Marty Fogel -- who arranged all of the elaborately layered horn parts -- are particularly outstanding.

The connecting threads that hold the whole thing together are the lyrics, Reed's most personal, before or since; never has he sounded so vulnerable. On "Stupid Man" and "Families", Reed sings about separation from loved ones by distances both physical and emotional. "Looking for Love" and "I Want to Boogie With You" are naked, yearning declarations, but sadly, the singer is all-too-convinced of his own inability to grasp that which he desires.

The epic title track -- featuring Reed's own favorite lyric -- continues to impress to this day. Sounding like a horrific collision between a 16th century baroque brass ensemble and Ornette Coleman's Prime Time outfit (with a touch of Gothic nightmarishness thrown in for good measure), it defies categorization.

I love the three stunning songs All Through The Night, Families and The Bells. The first is a description of an all-night drunken party or pub crawl which contains some of Reed's most poetic lyrics and acute observations against a backdrop of crowd sounds and a killer rhythm. Families is very autobiographical and moving, with a line or two advising his dad to let his sister manage the family business. But The Bells itself is an awesome, majestic experience, something he's never done before or since. Hard to describe, perhaps it's his exploration of what Bowie did on Low - those gothic tracks like Warszawa, Art Decade, Weeping Wall, etc. Dissonant, atmospheric and jazzy. The rest are short songs - Disco Mystic is a comment on the disco fever of the late 70s, as is I Want To Boogie With You. An uneven album, but those three classic songs make this a 4-star album.

It doesn't contain anything as heartbreaking as "Street Hassle", nor anything that just grabs you by the throat like "Waves of Fear" or "The Blue Mask". It doesn't even have a lot of guitar, relying instead on the brass and keyboards. Still, THE BELLS is another wonderful Lou Reed album--one you shouldn't be without.
"Stupid Man" and "With You" are short, punchy tracks that feature some terrific horn playing. "I Want to Boogie With You" is one of Lou's signature two-chord rockers, and his dirty, biting solo near the end of the song is the one great guitar moment on this album. I didn't realize until recently how frightening "All Through the Night" is; Lou howls despairingly about loneliness, a nighttime loneliness so crushing and interminable that you dread it every afternoon, while laughing phantom voices drift in and out of the mix. The title track, co-written with sax player Marty Fogel, is a sad, spooky, majestic piece with a pronounced classical influence. Don Cherry is at his best here, his trumpet sounding like a human voice. And that refrain, wow! "Heeeeeere come the bellllls"...once you hear it, you'll never forget it. I don't know if Lou has ever played this song live, but it would make one hell of a showstopper.
THE BELLS is both trademark Lou Reed and Lou Reed branching out. It's right up there with BERLIN, STREET HASSLE, and THE BLUE MASK, and better than TRANSFORMER. Don't wait, get it now!

July 25, 1998
Je pense que cet album est une élévation de la recherche musicale dans laquelle Lou Reed ne peut se complaire. Il nous donne ce disque comme il vous donnerait une franche poignée de mains ou une tartine. C'est un vrai petit bonheur que cette rondelle, tant l'innovation ne vous prend pas la tête. Cet album est tellement évident que personne ne l'a jamais composé. Alors, régalez-vous. Jetez-vous sur "Disco Mystic" et achevez votre promenade avec les insoutenables "Bells" qui sont bien plus que tubulaires... si vous voyez c'que j'veux dire.

The Bells has been called the first fusion of rock and jazz since Mile Davis' attempts; Reed's voice first appears fairly comical -since he apparently sped up the tape ( like most of his 70's albums) - but doesn't hamper the music. The songs are innovative, and sound quite interesting; unlike anything I've ever heard. This album seems to have overwhelmingly positive or negative responses; but if you like one song, chances are you'll like them all. Definitely one of my favorite Reed albums.

...I ain't like you Lou, I ain't got no death wish.

The Bells is undoubtedly the strangest album of Lou Reed's career. Lou certainly made some strange moves in the 1970s: hiring Rick Wakeman on his first solo album; Rock and Roll Heart, and of course, the infamous Metal Machine Music. But for all MMM's confrontational posture, at least it had some conceptual rigour: The Bells, on the other hand, is much harder to fathom. One wonders what the listener is to make of this melange of dated glam-rock, Bowie knock-offs and tootling saxophones (Jazz-rock this is not, despite claims to the contrary). Even stranger still are Lou's nasal, off-key vocals, which are frequently abysmal.

The operative word here is decadence: the album sounds drained, listless, and sterile. The sombre album sleeve shows Lou turning away from a hand-mirror, as though contemplating his own mortality. And certainly a deathly pallor hangs over the album. Musically, the album sounds lifeless and sterile; the binaural production practically buries the music alive.

Some of the music here is passable, such as the slow-motion schmaltz of I Wanna Boogie With You. The opener Stupid Man is weirdly catchy, despite Lou's dreadful vocals, and its flat, show-tune riff. Disco Mystic has no redeeming features whatsoever, and drones on like a lobotomised `Heroes'-era Bowie shimmying across the dancefloor, eliciting wary looks from the punters.

But worse is to come: With You and Looking For Love mark the absolute nadir of Lou's career. The former opens pleasantly with some jaunty horns, before the track descends into a duel between Lou's mock-falsetto(?) and swirling synths. It's a dog's dinner. Looking For Love sounds like a karaoke version of British glam rockers Mud. Everything about the track is rancid; from the opening riff (complete with a jarring bum note), to the terrible production, while Lou adopts his half-assed just-got-out-of-bed voice from `Live: Take No Prisoners'. (Although Lou's fans can try to blot out the pain by amusing themselves: try to imagine the band rocking their instruments back and forth in unison as on Top of the Pops in the early 1970s.)

But, as any alcoholic knows, once you've hit the bottom, there is only one way to go. The triumvirate of City Lights, All Through the Night and Families offer some redemption, although by this point the listener's expectations have been lowered so far that almost anything will do. Even here, Lou does his best to mess things up, singing City Lights in a key too low, and drowning out the band with a taped conversation in All Through the Night. The doleful Families is far too long, and the closing title track is as cold as ice, encapsulating the enervated, depressive feel of the album as a whole.

The Bells is so strange, and some of the music so irredeemably awful, that it's worth recommending out of curiosity. I have been pondering this review for some time, but I still have no idea what Lou was trying here. Thankfully, Robert Quine would soon come to rescue and help Lou dig himself out of this terrible musical hole, with The Blue Mask in 1981.

I'll tell you everything to sally cant dance to growing up
are just so musically great and hilarious.
Lou in some many songs is like falling apart with being stoned or raged or just plain humor. Im mean these are his best records. This is what makes Lou..Lou. Especially the mid late 70's Lou. How often do you listen to post blue mask Lou..........I dont