Lou Reed & Metallica: More sweet jesus than Sweet Jane

Sickboy’s ‘unifying theory of life’ realised in five and a half minutes of metal-by-numbers guitar and pseudo-beatnik lyricism. The ‘had-it-lost-it’ circumstance of the artists concerned is, of course, nothing new; Lou Reed’s decline formed a case-study in Trainspotting way back in 1996, while Metallica fans gave up hope of a new ‘Master of Puppets’ around the time their hedonistic heroes started seeing a band therapist.

Maybe it was just the surprise of a collaboration announcement that piqued my interest but for a short time, I allowed myself to believe the resulting album between these crumbling beacons of former glory could, for one final time, maybe, see them leave the comfort zones that have arguably led to their respective declines.

Perhaps Reed, whose early work with Velvet Underground was, for a decade or so, a by-word for musical brutality, would rise to the challenge. Perhaps working with a group of sprightly 40-somethings would bring back something of the sarcastic, junkie gutter-punk we all hope still exists beneath the orange puffer jackets of upper middle age.

Equally, by working closely with a true musical pioneer could Metallica, for the first time in 15 years, be inspired to take their music as seriously as they take themselves and produce a track that didn’t sound like a rewrite of a long forgotten demo scribbled down in five minutes on the way to a Basquiat art auction?

Some hope.

Released as a teaser for forthcoming album ‘Lulu’ over the weekend, ‘The View’ takes the worst aspects of Lou Reed and Metallica’s recent work and brings them to the fore. Lou’s lyrics, inspired by the plays of Frank Wedekind, suggest he wants to hurt the world, full of spite, hate and rebel spirit, but are delivered like the unhinged rantings of an old drunk on a park bench. James Hetfield’s chest-thumping voice has long divided listeners. Is it a heartfelt howl, brooding and nasty or is it so falsely macho as to encrust each Metallica song with an impenetrable layer of cheese? Either way, he’ll probably never sound quite as ridiculous as he does on the line “I am the table” in the final chorus of ‘The View’. The difference is that Lou, vocally dishevelled as he is, still carries with him enough of the post-Ginsberg hipster to say “I have no morals” and have the audience know he’s being cute. However, when Metallica’s meat head-sounding vocalist sings “I am the aggressor” you just know he’s visualising kicking someone’s ass.

Musically the track is based around two riffs. The first is a generic Black Sabbath-style chugger that gives way to the second – an upbeat thrash-by-numbers sprint. Neither are particularly memorable and only add to make the whole thing feel a bit silly.

Metallica and Lou Reed. Looking back now it seems naive that I had any positive expectations at all. While it would be unfair to judge the rest of ‘Lulu’ without actually hearing it, I can safely say that on the back of ‘The View’ I’ll not be going out of my way to get a copy.

One of the saddest things about modern music is that we still have the heroes of a bygone age knocking around. For every Tom Waits, there are five or six Rolling Stones’ – still playing the hits while putting out embarrassingly sub-par new material – slowly but surely ruining the magic and memories of old. Like 24-hour nursing care for an ailing grandparent its depressing but something we just have to accept. All we can hope for is dignity. Sadly on ‘The View’, Metallica and Lou Reed, elder statesmen of rock that they are, left their dignity behind. File next to SuperHeavy.

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