VINIL Universal Records Lou Reed - Transformer

Thirty years on, Transformer still sounds startlingly fresh, free from many of the clichés that taint other similarly minded records of the period. It also works as an interesting diversion from most of VU's work: where they clearly had a full-band aesthetic, and often leaned toward the avant-garde, Transformer took the strong pop undercurrent that ran throughout their records and indulged. It's still fascinating to hear Reed outside the messy underproduction of the Velvets, yet even with Bowie and Ronson broadening the arrangements, Transformer feels remarkably natural. Their production work was so loaded that, were it not for the incredibly focused songs beneath, it might have been overbearing. But with a solid base, the ornate arrangements help bring these songs to life, lending Reed's music a broader palette. Lou himself, by contrast, sounds as intimate as ever on the record's more sedate tracks, crooning in a sensitive lilt that maintains his blissful, effortless cool.

Transformer kicks off with the aptly titled "Vicious", a stiff, snot-nosed Godzilla of a rock song, decked out in leather and eye shadow, and drenched in the kind of punchy power chords intimately familiar to anyone owning VU's odds-and-sods compilations. Its gleefully tongue-in-cheek lyrics are among the album's highlights, with Reed's impetuous condescension beating down his subject's ego: "When I see you walking down the street/ I step on your hands and I mangle your feet/ You're not the kind of person that I even want to meet."

Elsewhere, "Perfect Day" earns the distinction of being among the least characteristic songs Reed ever wrote; while its power ballad production and melody are enjoyable on their own terms, the song feels trapped under his dry vocal delivery, and falls somewhat flat as a result. "Satellite of Love" is still the bizarrely affecting centerpiece, serving as a poignant reminder of Reed's underrated gift for melody, which often eclipsed the signature, visceral abrasiveness he's more often recognized for. And of course, there's "Walk on the Wild Side", the classic tale of NYC gender-bending that garnered Reed the only real commercial airplay of his career.