A notable exception to what I was talking about earlier. Namely, how rock’n'roll takes ques from nearly any musical avenue except continental music of the polka and bratwurst variety. Nothing could be less cool than oom-pah music. So, exception that proves the rule. When Lou Reed wanted to end his Transformer album on a note of particularly abject uncoolness, he called in an oom-pah band. For a song about being lonely, sad and unpopular, the melancholy tuba was the lemon in the tequila. On Transformer you don’t need forensics to see the fingerprints of producers David Bowie and Mick Ronson – it’s a Spiders From Mars album in all but name. Nearly every song is spiky and uptempo, all strut and attitude. Goodnight Ladies is a departure in tone, and as such, the perfect ending. It’s an ode to passing out alone after the guests have all gone home, maybe chugging the dregs of other people’s unfinished drinks before falling face-down for the night. After an album’s worth of high-energy, presumably drug-fueled partying – trips to the zoo, walks in the park, hanging round with Andy, walking on the wild side, coming out of our closets, out in the street – it’s the inevitable, looming hangover. It also foreshadows the spirit of the forthcoming Berlin. It’s that lonesome tuba that evokes bedeviled lost souls trying to drown their sorrows in a grimy, history-burdened old city, come what may.
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