The Irascible Lou

Lou Reed: The King of New York by Will Hermes (Picador, 2023)

Reviewed by Michael Jimenez

Some artists are defined by a location―Springsteen has New Jersey; Selena has Texas. But what about the Mecca of American culture? Who does New York belong to? A list of who’s who could perhaps better fit the bill. But for rock legend David Bowie the answer was crystal clear: Bowie declared that “New York City is Lou Reed” and that Reed was the “King of New York” (248; 396).

Perhaps taking his cue, and getting his subtitle, from Bowie, Will Hermes bases his study on Reed as the so-called “King of New York” by framing each chapter mostly around the Big Apple (xii). As a rock star, Reed traveled the world, but he always centered his life in New York. Hermes claims: “Like Times Square and the Statue of Liberty, Reed was a New York landmark” (409). He was one from the beginning, he was born in Brooklyn.

The book opens with Reed’s early life and his struggle to become a rock star.  A consistent thread throughout the narrative is how rock and roll completely transformed Reed’s existence (173). Feeling unloved by his father, Reed’s music, including his often transgressive lyrics, was his way of pushing against societal norms. His attention to words is evident in his early adoration of the New York poet Delmore Schwartz, whose shadow followed Reed all his life (392). Often troubled, as an adolescent, Reed was sent to electroconvulsive therapy for behavioral issues, including, perhaps, his already evident bisexual tendencies. Throughout his career, his celebrity found “kindred spirits” among his fans, who like their icon were “smart, sensitive, lonely, combative, troubled, damaged” (395).

The story picks up once the Velvet Underground is formed, but especially when Reed meets Andy Warhol. Together, Schwartz and Warhol become substitute father figures. With Warhol’s celebrity―and Nico―the Velvet Underground are catapulted in local New York club fame. Their music was often accompanied by Warhol’s Factory members. Hermes juxtaposes Reed and Warhol, illustrating why they connected so well (112-3). Like Warhol, Reed made a career creating a “fusion of ‘high’ and ‘low’ art” (272). Eventually, Reed would dump Nico, as a lover and a band member, and then Warhol, too, since Reed wanted to focus on the rock and roll and not the Factory circus.

Reed’s post-Velvet career included other rock legends. David Bowie helped produce Reed’s hit record Transformer. Even though Reed’s solo career had more misses than hits, he creatively blended styles from doo-wop rock from the 50s, to obscene transgressive lyrics of 70s New York punk, to, finally, attempts at grandiose rock opera. Like Bowie, other legends like Patti Smith saw Reed as the true pioneer of the gender-bending glam rock (246, 267, 279). Clearly the times had changed with regard to gender nonconformity, as one of Reed’s most popular songs “Take a Walk on the Wild Side”―featuring Warhol Factory superstars―makes clear. Reed was a true pioneer of the edgy post-1960s New York rock scene regarding “gender mutability,” including his public relationship with a nonbinary person, Rachel Humphreys (278, 284).

What is evident throughout the biography is that Reed could often be irascible, even “bringing out the worst in people” (72). His reputation and “mercurial moods” were infamous (436). However, Hermes claims that Reed is at his best when his art reflects “empathy” or “the mythic, and sometimes the real, salvation of love” (xix; 323). While he was still well-loved and respected by many people who would not typically let bad behavior slide, some of his peers despised him for his salty personality (268). For example, at one point he got into a fight with Bowie, who clearly admired him, and they had a falling out that lasted years (308-9). However, the consensus seems to be that Reed did try to work on his temper, including a late stint practicing Buddhism and martial arts, all striving to be a better person (412-4). Like any good biography, Hermes presents Reed in all his complicated glory.

As the 1980s began, Reed realized that his life was spiraling out of control because of substance abuse. With the help of his two wives, first Sylvia Morales and then Laurie Anderson, he started to achieve some form of normalcy in his later life. The AIDS crisis, in particular, was a stunning reminder of finitude, but so was surviving drug addiction since so many of his fellow travelers did not.

The twilight years also provided Reed a new role: “rock’s transgressive literary emeritus” (384). He became a mentor for younger acts, and sometime collaborator, including doing an album with Metallica. Even though he maintained his rock icon status, he was pragmatic about his legacy. For example, commercial use of Reed’s oeuvre gave him financial security. Perhaps it was Warhol’s lasting influence, but Reed seemed not to suffer from too keen a sense of artistic integrity when it came to his songs becoming commercialized by ad agencies. Maybe there is not that big a difference between “Warhol-sponsored art terrorism to corporate -sponsored rock star” (369).

Hermes writes a well-rounded, honest biography of Reed. He does not sugarcoat his less than flattering moments but also highlights scenes of Reed’s life that establish just how much of a rock pioneer he really was. The reader learns a lot about the New York rock and roll world of the late twentieth century to the early twenty-first century. At times throughout his life, Reed and the Velvet Underground were not appreciated. Now they are considered rock royalty. Hermes points out that in contrast to that of more well-known rock stars, “Reed’s work was comparatively fresher, allowing for broad interpretive play and carrying the charge of a shared and exciting secret” (389). For those who want to know more about this history, Hermes’ book is a great place to start.

Michael Jimenez is an Associate Professor of history at Vanguard University. He is the author of Remembering Lived Lives: A Historiography from the Underside of Modernity and Karl Barth and the Study of the Religious Enlightenment: Encountering the Task of History.