"Lou Reed’s cool lives on." Guess how!
"Mr. White has said he engineered the dough to stand up to the rigors of delivery and reheating with no loss of quality. In that, at least, he has succeeded. Warmed up a day or two later, a Nicoletta crust is just as stiff and bland as when it was fresh from the oven." —Pete Wells gets out his razor blades in his review of Michael White's new East Village pizzeria, Nicoletta. The seafood atop the insalata mista is "as tender as an extension cord," he says.
Lou Reed wore black. He moved slowly and a bit stiffly through the darkness that had descended on the Great Hall, a sheaf of paper in his hand. For the last thirty years he has looked like an ageless lizard but now I felt concern for him at the sight of his stiff gait. He entered the circle of light and put on reading glasses, gold rimmed.
Just a few minutes earlier the audience had been treated to several facts. One of them, shared by the Dean of Cooper Union, was that Abraham Lincoln had spoken in this very hall. I have been to a number of events at the [...]
Speaking of Lou Reed, when I first saw the title of Jim Jones' new song, I fervently hoped he might be covering the symphonically depressing classic Danny Boyle used so effectively to soundtrack the overdose scene in Trainspotting. It turns out that the truth is even more odd than one man's fervent hope.
There is not much more to say about Lou Reed than everyone else has already since word of his passing came yesterday. For so many people his work provided some of the earliest glimpses of another world that existed beyond the safe and colorless margins in which they felt trapped and penned and the opportunity of escape they revealed offered hope to both those who needed it most and to those who didn't need it at all but felt a little better knowing that it was out there. Every "Lou Reed changed my life story" tells you more about the person whose life was changed than it does [...]
Happy birthday to Lewis Allan Reed, who turns 70 today. I hope he doesn't become curmudgeonly in his advancing years.
The biggest opera house in the United States concluded its performance on time last night, at 11:15 p.m. Many of the nearly 4,000 people in attendance at the Met lingered in their seats for a bit, the better to praise the cast, orchestra and conductor—as well as to see if Philip Glass would take a curtain call. A number would have heard that the composer of Satyagraha, an opera about the life (sorta) and philosophical lineage (more consequentially) of Gandhi, was meant to have already spoken, at 10:30 p.m., to the Occupy Lincoln Center group just outside. When Glass did at last appear on stage, he was met with a [...]
"Eating dirt was forbidden. I was old enough to understand that. But I could. not. help. myself. My mother would often find me next to a houseplant, black streaks covering my mouth and hands. “Have you been eating dirt?” she would ask. I would solemnly shake my head. The perfect crime. Except for that telltale black ring around my mouth." —The Last Word On Nothing's Cassandra Willyard opens up about her past as a compulsive geophagist. She does so in relating the new scientific theory that the consumption of dirt (a phenomenon among children and pregnant women around the world) might have more to do with protection against pathogens [...]
"You are at a party, and Alex is telling a boring story. You are much more interested in the gossip that Sam is recounting to Pat, so you tune out Alex and focus on Sam’s words. Congratulations: you have just demonstrated the human ability to solve the 'cocktail party problem'—to pick out one thread of speech from the babble of two or more people. Computers so far lack that power." —So being a computer is kind of listening to Lou Reed's "Kicks" all the time. (Which wouldn't actually be so bad. I love the way the "cocktail party problem" enhances the great paranoid creepiness of that song.) Seems [...]
"There are more contradictions on 'New Slaves,' where he says 'Fuck you and your Hamptons house.' But God only knows how much he's spending wherever he is. He's trying to have it both ways — he's the upstart but he's got it all, so he frowns on it. Some people might say that makes him complicated, but it's not really that complicated. He kind of wants to retain his street cred even though he got so popular. And I think he thinks people are going to think he's become one of them — so he's going to very great lengths to claim that he's not. On 'New Slaves,' he's accusing [...]
"Lou Reed seems like there’s some football hidden in him. His name, Lou Reed, sounds like the name of a football coach—you can imagine a trophy or a plaque named after him. And as he’s aged, the weather-beaten sports coach inside has slowly revealed itself. His face reflects a combination of Vince Lombardi’s knowing gaze and Larry Brown’s mirthless grimace." —Over at the Classical, Devin Mcintyre writes a nice post about how the songs on the Velvet Underground's first album predicted the coming of this year's Jesus-loving sports phenom Tim Tebow—way back in 1967. It's the type of argument I am always ready to be convinced of. But [...]
Are you excited for the Lou Reed/Metallica record? Because that is apparently gonna be a thing.
"I never liked him. He seems sort of unpleasant and uncomfortable." —Bill "Smog" Callahan, in the (subscription-only) New Yorker, on Bob Dylan, who is having a tough week in the press. This kind of blows my mind. I mean, sure, I guess Dylan can come across that way. Like, his personality. It's been noted before. Lou Reed once said, "If you were at a party with him, I think you'd tell him to shut up." But still, he's the best at what he does, and it hurts me a little to hear other songwriters snipe like that. Though when Maureen Dowd (and/or whichever one or more [...]