Horror Music - Metallica and Lou Reed's 'Lulu'

Few albums are so bad they hurt; sadly Lulu is one of them. A concept album about a German prostitute, this is the horrific soundtrack of a collaboration that nobody saw coming. A torturous listen throughout, this should bring home to anyone who was in doubt the fact that neither Lou Reed nor Metallica are anything like the creative forces they once were.

Opener ‘Brandenburg Gate’ may not seem all that offensive during its opening bars but from the moment things kick into (reverse) gear and Lou utters the immortal line “I would cut my legs and tits off when I think of Boris Karloff”, it is clear that this album is one only destined for failure. Troublingly, this is a failure that lasts nearly ninety minutes but feels more like three and a half hours.

Second track ‘The View’ served as a warning plain for all to see when released online a few weeks ago. Having already drummed up a fair amount of internet hilarity, due to James Hetfield’s impassioned delivery of the line “I am the table”, the true extent of how utterly terrible Lulu is only rings true after this song is heard in the context of the album. For ‘The View’ stands out as a masterpiece amongst some unfortunate nosedives. That something so pathetically dull can seem superb when placed alongside some of the other tracks on this album, it speaks volumes about the overall quality of Lulu.

Most stupendously hard to believe is that Lou Reed and Metallica must have been sitting in a room thinking how good all this sounded. The fact that both these collaborators have, for some time now, struggled to create material even resembling the heights of their glory days is undeniably disappointing. However it is frightening to imagine that they could even consider anything on this album passable, let alone good enough to release.

While Metallica mega-fans will be jumping on the anti-Reed bandwagon to explain this, don’t get the impression that the one-time thrash kings come away without any blame. For while Reed may be responsible for the woeful attempt at intriguing conceptual lyricism, and vocals so sour and off-key that they should have a spot hosting The Weakest Link, Metallica are here responsible for some of the most pitifully lifeless instrumental work ever conceived by a heavy metal band. As is standard with the Metallica of this century, the listener is treated to Lars Ulrich’s horrendous ‘pencil on a biscuit tin’ drumming tone in addition to depressingly mundane Hetfield riffs. Is Kirk Hammett even on this record? Only he knows.

Oh, and in case anyone cared, Rob Trujillo plays some largely inaudible bass.

It is actually difficult not to go into further detail about how bad Lulu is. Having only scratched the surface of the true despairing abhorrence of almost every minute of this hideous creation, suffice it to say that this is an album that nobody in their right mind should like. It is not the avant-garde masterpiece that its creators clearly consider it to be nor, sadly, is it a bad joke. This is a deadly serious record, one that should never have got further than a scrawled note on a whiteboard. One of the most sickeningly awful albums you will ever hear: if you have any sense, after reading this review, you never will.

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