Moron. Monster. Maven. Maverick. Mentor.
Master.
Forget Lou Reed’s history and reputation of anger, vengefulness, narcissism, “opinions,” and later-year, self-indulgent, diffidence.
Instead, rinse your eyes and ears, and see and hear again the sincerity of “Sunday Morning,” and “Jesus.” The beatifying electro-shock therapy of side two of “White Light/ White Heat.” The rolling thunder of “Wagon Wheel” and “Train Round The Bend.” The echo chamber orchestra (bless Bob Ezrin) of every moment in that emotionally divided City that is “Berlin.”
He said, arrogantly, astutely, on Metal Machine Music, “My week beats your year.”
Ultimately, Lou wasn’t a man.
He was a planet unto himself.