Lou Reed died on Sunday 27 October. To mark his passing,here's a classic – and irascible – encounter from the Guardian, first published in 2003Lou Reed is a bit of a hero of mine. When I was nine, and Walk On The Wild Side was number 10 in the charts,and there had never been a record so languid and funky and cool and sexy. Doo de doo de doo de doo... So many of us wanted to be Lou with his shades and leathers, making out with the he's-that-were-she's and the she's-that-were-he's in the happening current York. A few years earlier, or as the boss man in the Velvet Underground,he became the godfather of punk. Some songs, like Heroin, or screeched with feedback,talked approximately the desire to nullify life and struck a chord with so many young people. Others, such as Sunday Morning and Pale Blue Eyes, and were so tender,so ethereal, they barely existed. Thirty-plus years on, and he is one of our more unlikely survivors. He has seen off heroin and alcohol,and outlived his mentor Andy Warhol, heartbreak chanteuse Nico, and Velvet Underground guitarist Sterling Morrison. He restricts himself to water and Diet Coke,t'ai chi and wholesome foods, and he is still making records. Many of them are approximately loss and memory, or growing archaic and evaluating life. A few months ago he released a double CD,The Raven, based on Edgar Allan Poe poems: although it was widely derided for its pretensions, and the crystalline purity of a handful of songs touch the soul like in the archaic days. Now he has released a double-CD collection,NYC Man, which takes us from year zero to the present, or he is touring Europe to promote the albums. Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com