Lou Reed『Live In Italy』〜My Unchanged "Desert Island Disc" — Tetsuya Takeda

"If you could only take one album to a desert island, what would it be?"

It's a classic music discussion topic that's been around forever, but for me, this album has been that one disc for over 40 years now.

Lou Reed, a live album recorded in Italy in September 1983. The simple four-piece band configuration creates tight and solid performances, delivering the kind of immediacy that only live recordings can offer.

September 1983, Italy — Rising from the Doldrums

After the legendary Velvet Underground, Lou had the smash hit "Walk On The Wild Side" in his solo career, but afterward he seemed to drift into glam rock territory or release uncommercial noise albums—I think Lou was in something of a slump for a while.

What sparked his emergence from this doldrums was his encounter with Robert Quine, the former Richard Hell & The Voidoids guitarist who participated in the recording of "The Blue Mask" (1982) and "Legendary Hearts" (1983). These two studio albums marked a return to a straight and strong sound, and this album captures the tour that followed the "Legendary Hearts" release, riding that same momentum.

Lou & Quine, The Ultimate Four-Piece

The band members included the aforementioned Quine, plus technical musicians Fernando Saunders on bass and Fred Maher on drums, forming a solid backing unit. While this lineup was active for only a short period, I believe it was Lou Reed's strongest live band ever.

The guitar interplay between Lou and Quine throughout is particularly magnificent, and just being able to hear these two performers—both now departed—is enough to make me grateful this recording exists.

Also subtly impressive is Saunders' distinctive bass lines, coming from a fusion background. Whether it's a fretless bass or not, you can hear how his growling bass drives the band's performance forward.

Goosebump Moments with Perfect Song Selection

The track selection spans from VU era to his contemporary solo work—a perfect choice. The crowd's excitement when the opening "Sweet Jane" begins, the incredible momentum of "Rock And Roll," the destructive guitar solo in "Some Kinda Love〜Sister Ray"—there are goosebump moments throughout that make me gasp no matter how many times I listen.

An Impossible Dream, and My Desert Island Disc

I saw Lou's Japan performances four times (1990, 1996, 2000, 2003), but every time I listen to this live album, I find myself wishing I could have seen just one performance with this band lineup live... it's an impossible dream that haunts me.

While not footage of this particular show, there's "A Night With Lou Reed" featuring a live performance from the same period at New York's Bottom Line, which is also a must-buy. (You can spot Andy Warhol in the audience, capturing the atmosphere of the era.)

After over 40 years of listening, my desert island disc remains unchanged. This might be the greatest gift a single album can give to a life.

Editor's Note

Tetsuya Takeda has been a music companion of mine (Namio) since our twenties. Decades later, he still frequents live venues and concert halls, continuing to enjoy his musical life—he's someone who keeps "music at the center of his life" as he moves forward. Though lately, he rarely hangs out with me.

The moment I read the opening line "this album has been my desert island disc for over 40 years," I found myself nodding. We're almost the same generation. There's a shared sensibility among those of us who followed Lou's journey from Velvet Underground to solo in real-time, standing in front of record store shelves back then.

What particularly resonated was his definitive praise of the guitar interplay between Lou and Robert Quine as "magnificent," and his sonic description of Fernando Saunders' "fretless bass or whatever, that growling" sound. These kinds of words about "the sound itself" can only be written by someone who dropped the needle hundreds of times and spent hours staring at the credits on the back cover.

Looking back now, there's indeed nothing but gratitude that this recording survived—I deeply nod at Takeda's final sentiment.