"I would cut my legs and tits off when I think of Boris Karloff." When your album starts off with this pleasant couplet, it's obvious that what you're in for isn't going to be your standard rock fare. And that is certainly true with Lulu , the bizarre and challenging collaborative effort between Lou Reed and Metallica. Based on German expressionist writings, filtered through Reed's rose-colored glasses and piled recklessly on top of a loopy, mundane Metallica jam session, the album is a near 90-minute exercise in musical Russian roulette. And every chamber is full. The last album to perplex and intrigue me in such a way was They Were Wrong So We Drowned , Liars' 2004 batshit insane ode to witches. That album basically made me rethink my limits taste-wise. Disjointed, ugly and messy, that album was a full-blown endurance trial, one that made the listener feel as though they were tied to the stake and watching the flames rise. It was downright ...
SOMEHOW STILL A THING