Peel Slowly and See (Polydor, 1995). This five-disc box set is now the definitive document of Reed's years in the Velvet Underground. But it's also worth picking up the two-disc 1969: Velvet Underground Live (Mercury) for the pleasure of hearing VU work it out on stage.

Lou Reed (RCA, 1972); Transformer (RCA, 1972); Berlin (RCA, 1973); and Rock 'n' Roll Animal (RCA, 1974). Reed spent the early '70s trying to find a direction for his solo career, shooting lots of speed, and branching out in some fascinating, sometimes frustrating directions. On Lou Reed, he's joined by Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman for some pasteurized versions of material he'd been working on with the Velvets. Then Bowie got hold of Lou and helped turn him into a glam-rocker with Mick Ronson on guitar. With Bowie co-producing, Transformer yielded the hit "Walk on the Wild Side," the acidly funny "Vicious," and one of Reed's only successful attempts at a real "singing" vocal performance, the beautiful and bitter "Perfect Day."

The following year, Reed hooked up with Alice Cooper producer Bob Ezrin and recorded one of the most powerfully depressing discs of all time, Berlin, a truly monumental piece of work that Lester Bangs called "a gargantuan slab of maggoty rancor." Perhaps to make up for bringing everyone down, he went on the road in '74 with an outrageous heavy-metal band. The resulting live album, Rock 'n' Roll Animal, is a glorious study in bombast and decadence replete with a prog-rock intro to "Sweet Jane." Nobody's ever ruined his old songs better than Reed.

Metal Machine Music (RCA, 1975), Street Hassle (Arista, 1978); and Take No Prisoners (Arista, 1978). Reed wound down from his Animal incarnation with a couple of frankly rather boring albums and the controversial noise disc Metal Machine Music before picking up steam again with Street Hassle. The disc's spoken-word title track, which features a cameo by Bruce Springsteen, is brilliant; "I Wanna Be Black" qualifies as one of Reed's most offensive compositions ever; and it's amazing that he can even sing "Real Good Time Together" with his tongue so far in his cheek. For some insight into his state of mind at the time, and for some genuine belly laughs, the two-disc Take No Prisoners can't be beat. Recorded at New York City's Bottom Line, it showcases an out-of-his-mind Lou rambling on before, during, and after each song about anything that enters his drug-addled cerebral cortex.

The Blue Mask (RCA, 1982); Legendary Hearts (RCA, 1983); and Live in Italy (RCA, 1984). It took a couple more sensitive but boring albums before Reed reached a new level of accomplishment on The Blue Mask. With Robert Quine on guitar and Fernando Saunders on bass, he had finally found a band that could match the Velvets, and he kept them around for the also excellent Legendary Hearts. Those musicians can be heard kicking ass on everything from "Satellite of Love" to "Sweet Jane" and "Heroin" on the two-disc Live in Italy (RCA).

New York (Sire, 1989); Between Thought and Expression: The Lou Reed Anthology (RCA; 1992); Songs for Drella (Sire, 1990); and Magic and Loss (Sire, 1992). Again, Reed entered a holding pattern for the duration of two unremarkable discs before he returned transformed on the stunning New York. That disc ushered in the tough, hard-working, gritty-realist Lou for the '90s. It also facilitated the release of the balanced three-disc box set Between Thought and Expression: The Lou Reed Anthology (RCA). And he's been solid since, on his John Cale collaboration Songs for Drella (Sire), Magic and Loss (Sire), and, of course, the new Set the Twilight Reeling.

-- Matt Ashare