Lou Reed - Set The Twilight Reeling (2LP)

Lou Reed’s Set the Twilight Reeling landed in 1996 on Warner Bros., and it feels like walking into a late-night New York bar where the lights are low and the conversations are sharp. After the conceptual weight of Magic and Loss and a Velvet Underground reunion that reminded everyone of his history, Reed came back with a record that’s messier in the best way. It is personal and playful, yet still full of that downtown steel. You can hear the room. You can feel the elbows and the guitar amps.

“Egg Cream” kicks the door first, a great Reed opener that doubles as a Brooklyn memory and a tone-setting manifesto. The guitar is wry, the groove is loose, and suddenly you’re talking about seltzer and chocolate syrup like they’re sacred objects. He always had a knack for smuggling big feeling into the ordinary, and here he makes a local soda fountain tradition sound like a birthright. That mix of tough and tender runs through the record. “NYC Man” chimes in as both a love letter and a character study. It’s a city song, sure, but also a portrait of a person who has learned how to live in it. Years later Reed used the title for a best-of, which says a lot about how central this song feels in his catalog.

What surprises most is how unguarded he sounds. “Hookywooky” grins and flirts. “Hang On to Your Emotions” offers advice that feels earned, like it was handed to you across a diner table at 2 a.m. The title track glows with a late-evening hush, that moment when the skyline loses its edge and you start thinking about the people you love. He isn’t hiding behind a concept here. It is a small band feel, the kind of production Reed favored when he wanted to hear fingers on strings and breath between lines. He produced the album himself, and you can tell. Solos skid slightly out of frame, vocals sit up front, and the rhythm section keeps things human.

“Riptide” is the long pull, a track that swirls and swells like the title promises, Reed leaning into repetition until it starts to feel like a trance. Then “Finish Line” arrives, weary and clear-eyed, like someone describing the last mile of a race they’ve actually run. Not everything hits with the same force, but even the minor songs carry the grain of his voice and that dry, unforgettable guitar tone. If you’ve spent time with New York and Ecstasy, this sits right between them, both in chronology and in spirit.

Critical reception at the time picked up on the shift. Writers called it a return to guitar-forward rock and a more intimate lens, and fans heard an artist who still had bite but also seemed ready to let warmth into the room. You can drop a needle anywhere and find a detail that rewards close listening. The backing vocals sliding under “Hang On to Your Emotions.” The way “Egg Cream” pauses just long enough to make the punchline land. The chiming figures in “NYC Man” that sound like they’ve been ringing in the air since the Max’s Kansas City days.

If you collect Lou Reed vinyl, this one is a sleeper favorite. Set the Twilight Reeling vinyl copies don’t always sit in the bins for long, and the record’s open mix breathes nicely at 33. If you’re browsing a Melbourne record store on a rainy afternoon, keep an eye out between Transformer and Ecstasy. Same goes if you buy Lou Reed records online and like the thrill of chasing a title that avoids the obvious picks. Among Lou Reed albums on vinyl, it’s an LP that connects his classic storytelling to the looser late-90s run, and that arc makes sense when you hear it with groove and hiss intact. For collectors in vinyl records Australia circles, it’s one of those sleeves that looks better worn in, the kind of copy you pass along to a friend with a quick “trust me.”

Set the Twilight Reeling isn’t trying to be a definitive statement. It doesn’t need to be. It’s a lived-in portrait of an artist who knew exactly how to turn daily life into songs that sting a little, then stick around. Drop in for “Egg Cream,” stay for “NYC Man,” and by the time the title track rolls through, you’ll likely remember why Reed’s voice remains one of rock’s essential instruments.