The last couple of days I have re-discovered the joys of Lou Reed's "Metal Machine Music". Panned universally by critics when it was first released in 1975, the "noise-scapes" that filled the 4 sides of this double album were considered a drastic attempt at commercial suicide and a hearty "fuck you" to his label. RCA, salivating at the prospect of another chart-topper like "Walk on the Wild Side", were goading him into writing another one in a similar (ie. financially successful) vein, so they probably got exactly what they deserved when Reed delivered his magnum opus to them.
"Walk on the Wild Side", from the "Transformer" album, was not your typical 70's radio hit. Seldom do you hear references to prostitutes, oral sex and trans-gender issues sent out on the same airwaves as David Cassidy, Bread and The Captain & Tennille. But Reed had never been "typical" about anything. The song's success must have surprised everyone involved with the project, from producer David Bowie to the nameless RCA hot shots who thought they could get what they wanted out of an artist whose only real success (if you could call it that, at the time) was as the leader of the Velvet Underground. No doubt the positive response to "Wild Side" surprised them...well, they were in for an even bigger surprise.
He wasn't going to do it. He was unhappy with RCA and it seemed that his main priority was to get out from under his contract with them. So, for his next "post-'Transformers'" album, he didn't bother hiring musicians and studio time. Instead, he invented a gizmo he called the Amine β Ring. It sounded like a short wave radio placed in the middle of a nuclear reactor. An overstuffed collage of industrial machinery panned, left to right and back again, in an apparent attempt to induce a feeling of numbness in the skull. As if he'd spent the night in Karlheinz Stockhausen's studio, swept up all the edited tape clips from the floor and pasted them back together in a random order. "Metal Machine Music"...the album's title had it 2/3rds right. A lot of metal clashing against metal. Machines making love with other machines. But MUSIC? Ah, indeed. The eye of the beholder. Or, I should say, the EAR of the beholder. The post-modern dilemma. What IS music, right? Are there any rules anymore? From George Crumb and Penderecki all the way to Einsterzende Neubauten and My Bloody Valentine the boundaries of what is acceptable as "music" have stretched to the point of breaking into chaos. Crunching, distorted noise has always been a part of heavy metal music, so what would happen if you took away all semblance of structure, form, satanic lyrics and guttural gibberish? I dare say you would be left with the mind boggling cacophony of "Metal Machine Music".
In reality the Amine β Ring was little more than a four track tape recorder but only God knows what he did to create all those tuneless sounds. If asked to come up with a label for this kind of "music", I think I'd call it "ambient chaos" or "chaotic ambiance". It is, I suppose, odd to think of this material as "ambient" and it's unfortunate connotations with "background music". It's the polar opposite of what most consider "ambient" music, which usually provides a more relaxing experience. "Metal Machine Music" is about as relaxing as a bumpy ride on a train bound for Hades. In a hailstorm. And a broken chrome bumper dragging the asphalt, screeching and throwing sparks.
And yet, I love it.
I bought my copy on 8-track not too long after it was released. It didn't take long for the title to find it's way into the bargain bins. Those bins were the ones where I usually hung out because I was not blessed with financial riches. I discovered a lot of great music in those bins because the truth of the matter is that a lot of the greatest music in the world just didn't sell. Didn't hit the charts. Didn't meet the standards of a successful debut album (as determined, of course, by label suits and Joe Public). I mean, the bargain bin is where I found my copies of "The Stooges" and the New York Dolls' second album, for crying out loud, and those are just a couple of examples. Sometimes I knew what I was getting, sometimes not. I knew exactly what "Metal Machine Music" was when I first spied it in Sound Warehouse's clearance section. I'm sure I was the only person in the entire state of Oklahoma who counted himself lucky to snag that tape for a whopping 50 cents. Moreover, I was probably the only one in the tri-state area who thought it was worth every penny.
Yes, I had a solid idea of the sonic experience I was in for. Every single review I'd read of the album (an there were many) had knocked it so hard you could practically hear the record label execs moan. Rolling Stone likened it to "the tubular groaning of a galactic refrigerator". Billy Altman, also with Rolling Stone, said it was "nothing more than ear-wrecking electronic sludge, guaranteed to clear any room of humans in record time." Even Trouser Press, known for embracing unusual and alternative musical styles, called it "four sides of un-listenable oscillator noise". Creem gave it two different reviews, one by a critic whose name I don't recall. It consisted entirely of the word NO repeated at least 500 times. The other was one of the few positive write-ups it received. It was by Lester Bangs and was probably the main reason I wanted that 8-track at Sound Warehouse. Of course, Lester was probably Lou Reed's biggest fan. And the review is dripping with sarcasm, so who knows what he REALLY thought of "Metal Machine Music". I was happy to ride along on the coattails of his opinion.
I listened to MMM, for the first time, through headphones. I was determined to sit through the entire thing, regardless of any initial impulse to turn it off if it became boring. I opened my mind and paid attention to the sounds...the bleeping, the blipping, the static, the dit-dit-dit-dash-dash-dash-dit-dit-dit pseudo Morse code jumping through the airwaves from left to right, the total, formless chaos coming from nowhere before returning to blessed silence about 16 minutes later... A house full of short wave radios tuned to different frequencies, the harmonics stacked layer upon layer upon layer. I'd try to discern some semblance of order in the more prominent tones, but no luck. But instead of being frustrated by this, I found myself fascinated. With no anchor in this "music" it became easy...no, it was impossible NOT to drift away, to get out of my mind for a little over an hour. It's an aural workout. And you KNOW you've been through something extraordinary when the experience ends. It's not one you'll want to repeat any time soon, if ever, but definitely a trip.
There's a good entry for "Metal Machine Music" on Wikipedia where you'll find some quotes concerning the record from David Bowie & Brian Eno, amongst others. They give some insight into the "importance" of the work. The article includes several other interesting facts, trivial and otherwise, and makes the valid point that MMM belongs in the same critically respected vein as the works of Iannis Xenakis & Karlheinz Stockhausen. This is a valid, fair assessment. Despite it's initial reception it is still one of the most unique, original pieces of art ever hoisted on the general public.
But that said, do I recommend it? Now THAT is a difficult question. I hope I've been descriptive enough in this review that the reader has a pretty good idea what he/she will be in for in a serious listening to Reed's "black sheep of a record". There aren't too many artists whose work I could compare it to...maybe SunnO))) or Earth, but even their brands of noise seem more "restrained" (in a completely relative way). Obviously if you're wanting to hear "typical" music, you will be sorely disappointed. If you're the kind of person who likes to immerse yourself in sound while imbibing in recreational drugs you may well find yourself lost in Lou's sound world, but it will very likely freak you out to the point of no return.
So who, exactly would I recommend it to? No one. No one at all.
That said, anyone REALLY serious about music should hear it at least once in their lifetime. The key is to think of it as MUSIC even if that's not really what it is...because who is to say that's not what it is? Would it be any worse than Slayer to a classical music snob? Or vice versa? Maybe. Not by much, though.
Ear of the beholder, my friends. Ear of the beholder.
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