On September 28th at the Empire in Liverpool, after Reed and his band’s blistering performance, impatient fans became wild outside the stage entrance at the back of the venue, throwing rocks and bottles at the door as they clamored for the performer. In response, Bernie Gelb, Dawsons Sound’s manager and head of security, drove a car to the deserted front entrance, picked up Reed and his entourage, and drove off, leaving a raucous mob in the hands of the local bobbies.
A week earlier, Reed collapsed on the stage at Marini Hall in Brussels after a night of wild carousing in Amsterdam. He was so sick that the rest of the performance was cancelled.
“Oh God, I think I’m dying!” he moaned, as Bernie carried him like a heavy sack of speakers up two flights of stairs to the dressing room.
Meanwhile, the angry audience rioted, tearing up seats and throwing them onto the stage. The venue’s management had dropped the asbestos curtain when Reed fell down, protecting the band gear and my sound system. Bernie alerted me to Reed’s condition, so when I heard the first chairs flying, I quickly broke down the front of house mixers and sat on their cases, waiting for the stage crew to rescue them and me. By the time authorities cleared the hall, it looked as if a bomb had dropped.
After playing the Odeon in Birmingham on October 3rd, we concluded the European tour on October 5, 1973, with a show at London’s Rainbow Theatre. Although Reed and the band played energetically and forcefully, there was a relaxing quality to the concert, especially when compared to the frenetic European performances. After the show, a smiling Reed declared it was the best gig of the tour, happily surrounded by friends. I looked at the celebrities, punks, and glam rock stars in the green room. One lady stood out—Lou was pleasantly surprised to see actress Julie Christie. After everyone had gone, Lou and Jim Jacobs from Dawson Sound Company partied until early the next morning on the roof at Blake’s hotel, where we were staying.
Back in America, Dawson Sound juggled gigs with Mahavishnu Orchestra and Don Kirshner’s Rock Concert so we could fit in some rehearsals with Reed and his band. Lou’s manager, Dennis Katz, was preparing a new US tour and a live taping of the December 21st gig at New York City’s Academy of Music. There was a lot riding on this concert. Although produced by Bob Ezrin, Pink Floyd’s and Alice Cooper’s recording mentor, Reed’s Berlin album had not repeated the commercial success of Transformer, and Dennis was under pressure to deliver a strong effort to make up for lost ground. Convinced that a live album of Reed’s best Velvet Underground material plus a sampling of his solo efforts would be the answer, Dennis had pushed hard for the project to come to fruition. Over the course of the European tour and the newer rehearsals, the group had been working diligently to get to this point. Now it was time to hire Record Plant’s mobile recording equipment and nail a great performance.
Since I viewed this as the most important show on the whole tour, I brought the entire Dawson Sound crew and the full Acoustic Suspension System with vocal PA to the gig. The results in the hall were fantastic, but Reed’s efforts were a bit less than stellar. Perhaps I’m only saying that because I witnessed many other shows in Europe that were clearly better. It seemed that Lou was trying too hard to capture his darker, angrier side because the show lacked his usual candor and humor. Since he seemed especially reserved during the beginning of the performance, his two guitarists, Steve Hunter and Dick Wagner, took over and rocked the whole affair up into the heavy metal clouds.
To top it all, there were management issues. Bernie had me hold the second show until Howard Stein, the promoter at the Academy, paid Dawson Sound for our services. Since often it’s difficult (if not impossible) to be paid after a performance has been rendered, artists and production services are always paid before the beginning of a concert, usually with a deposit upon contract signing and the balance before the show commences. So when Bernie asked me to not turn on the audio system until I heard from him, I knew something was up.
“I’ll pay you after the show,” Stein told Bernie.
“You’ll pay us now,” Bernie replied, “or there will be no show. At least a show with sound.”
Stein thought Bernie was bluffing and tried to open the curtains. The band played, but there was no amplification. As Lou came up to the mic, it became evident there was no sound. He was not pleased.
“Damn it,” Stein swore at a smiling Bernie who accepted the required cash. Within seconds after payment, I turned on the mics and all was well. Most of the audience assumed it was just equipment malfunction
My personal opinion of the show certainly didn’t mean that Record Plant hadn’t captured something notable on tape. When the cream of the recordings came out as Rock and Roll Animal album in February 1974, the release sold steadily and became Lou’s best-selling album. To this day, many fans approach me thinking this was my only association with Lou, telling me how much they love Hunter and Wagner’s opening power chords. Apparently, Dennis knew something the rest of us didn’t—that the world wanted a hard-rock sound from this enigma, and all the momentum built up over the past two years would be unleashed if only the right album were put in place. No matter what the reason, though, Lou Reed enjoyed his hit, and the album’s success inspired a second release of material from the Academy of Music show. Issued in early 1975, Lou Reed Live didn’t equal the sales of its predecessor, but it would certainly keep Lou in leather pants for many years to come.
Watch: Lou Reed circa 1973, “Walk on the Wild Side” [at youtube.com]
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