Speaking to the dead isn't like in the movies. There was no seance or ouija stuff involved. No crystal ball or trances or ectoplasm. It's pretty mundane. I was working on my quarter-scale model of The Golden Hind, constructed entirely from chicken fat, when Cody interrupted me. "You have a call on the red phone." I didn't even know we had a red phone, but there it was, glowing in the Conversation Pit Of Sound©. I picked up. That nasal drawl was unmistakable.
LR: Hey, Farq, this is Lou Reed. Love your work.
FMF©: You're, uh, dead?
LR: And in hell! It's pretty much like New York. I have a loft next to Andy's and the gang's all here. If it wasn't for everything being on fire all the time, it's like nobody ever died.
FMF©: Listen - I'm kind of busy right now?
LR: I just wanted to tell everybody up there I'm not here because of the Metal Machine Music album.
FMF©: It must have helped, though.
LR: Yeah, that and the eyewear with flip-up lenses. The fuck was I thinking? But it was Lulu that was just basically unforgivable. Not even David telling them it was my best album helped. Worked against it.
FMF©: Bowie?
LR: He's here for The Laughing Gnome. They have no sense of humor. He's like, it was a fucking joke! and they're like, ha fucking ha, funny boy, poking him with pitchforks. He has a duplex, blood coming out the shower, he's happy.
FMF©: You're happy? In hell?
LR: Me? Happy? But my point is, you post Lulu on your blog, maybe as a Pariah feature, the world can reassess it, and it'll get respected as an ahead-of-its-time classic. And they'll stop fucking playing it down here.
FMF©: [imitates dead line]
A friend, who writes for several music mags, considers MMM to be in the top 10 of greatest rock albums. I no longer trust him with sharp objects.
ReplyDeleteThat's okay. Rock Critics have to hold at least one "outrageous" opinion to get their union card. Claiming White Light/White Heat to be their most-played album is another.
DeleteI met Lou Reed once upon a time. We were in a queue at Starbucks in Milton Keynes and got chatting. He introduced me to his companion, a charming gal called Cody. Said they’d met earlier when he had a puncture on the road out to Ikea in Bletchley and she stopped by and patched him up.
ReplyDeleteI asked him who was his favourite guitarist, Dick Wagner or Steve Hunter? He said Robert Quine. Couldn’t argue with that.
Anyway, when we got to the counter he asked for a Big Mac with cheesy fries and things got a little hazy . . .
It was definitely a life changing moment for me, tho’.
Cheers, Peanuts Molloy
I don't think this could have been the real Cody, because she doesn't exist, but thanks for the bittersweet stroll down memory lane!
Delete