Lou Reed 在搖滾史上有什麼樣的地位？

01-08

老李 R.I.P

在搖滾史上有一個關於「地下絲絨」(The Velvet
Underground)的老笑話：當年幾乎沒有多少人買樂隊的第一張唱片，但這些買了唱片的人在後來都組建了他們自己的樂隊。而真正的妙語是「每一位朋克、後朋克和先鋒流行藝術家在過去的30年中都欠下了地下絲絨樂隊一筆靈感的債務，哪怕只是受到了間接的影響。」

有的歌手影響歌迷，有的歌手影響歌手。

他去世後能讓一群中國孩子在這樣的平台上討論自己生前是怎樣的地位你說這是什麼地位？

Patti Smith 寫了一篇追憶Lou的文章，事實再次證明，詩人屬性與年齡無關。

On Sunday morning, I rose early. I had decided the night before to go to the ocean, so I slipped a book and a bottle of water into a sack and caught a ride to Rockaway Beach. It felt like a significant date, but I failed to conjure anything specific. The beach was empty, and, with the anniversary of Hurricane Sandy looming, the quiet sea seemed to embody the contradictory truth of nature. I stood there for a while, tracing the path of a low-flying plane, when I received a text message from my daughter, Jesse. Lou Reed was dead. I flinched and took a deep breath. I had seen him with his wife, Laurie, in the city recently, and I』d sensed that he was ill. A weariness shadowed her customary brightness. When Lou said goodbye, his dark eyes seemed to contain an infinite and benevolent sadness.
I met Lou at Max』s Kansas City in 1970. The Velvet Underground played two sets a night for several weeks that summer. The critic and scholar Donald Lyons was shocked that I had never seen them, and he escorted me upstairs for the second set of their first night. I loved to dance, and you could dance for hours to the music of the Velvet Underground. A dissonant surf doo-wop drone allowing you to move very fast or very slow. It was my late and revelatory introduction to 「Sister Ray.」

Within a few years, in that same room upstairs at Max』s, Lenny Kaye, Richard Sohl, and I presented our own land of a thousand dances. Lou would often stop by to see what we were up to. A complicated man, he encouraged our efforts, then turned and provoked me like a Machiavellian schoolboy. I would try to steer clear of him, but, catlike, he would suddenly reappear, and disarm me with some Delmore Schwartz line about love or courage. I didn』t understand his erratic behavior or the intensity of his moods, which shifted, like his speech patterns, from speedy to laconic. But I understood his devotion to poetry and the transporting quality of his performances. He had black eyes, black T-shirt, pale skin. He was curious, sometimes suspicious, a voracious reader, and a sonic explorer. An obscure guitar pedal was for him another kind of poem. He was our connection to the infamous air of the Factory. He had made Edie Sedgwick dance. Andy Warhol whispered in his ear. Lou brought the sensibilities of art and literature into his music. He was our generation』s New York poet, championing its misfits as Whitman had championed its workingman and Lorca its persecuted.
As my band evolved and covered his songs, Lou bestowed his blessings. Toward the end of the seventies, I was preparing to leave the city for Detroit when I bumped into him by the elevator in the old Gramercy Park Hotel. I was carrying a book of poems by Rupert Brooke. He took the book out of my hand and we looked at the poet』s photograph together. So beautiful, he said, so sad. It was a moment of complete peace.
As news of Lou』s death spread, a rippling sensation mounted, then burst, filling the atmosphere with hyperkinetic energy. Scores of messages found their way to me. A call from Sam Shepard, driving a truck through Kentucky. A modest Japanese photographer sending a text from Tokyo—「I am crying.」
As I mourned by the sea, two images came to mind, watermarking the paper- colored sky. The first was the face of his wife, Laurie. She was his mirror; in her eyes you can see his kindness, sincerity, and empathy. The second was the 「great big clipper ship」 that he longed to board, from the lyrics of his masterpiece, 「Heroin.」 I envisioned it waiting for him beneath the constellation formed by the souls of the poets he so wished to join. Before I slept, I searched for the significance of the date—October 27th—and found it to be the birthday of both Dylan Thomas and Sylvia Plath. Lou had chosen the perfect day to set sail—the day of poets, on Sunday morning, the world behind him.

Link:Patti Smith: Mourning Lou Reed : The New Yorker

我認為所有有命活到自然死亡的搖滾藝人都很牛逼，更何況有的老傢伙還愈老彌堅。

牛逼不牛逼不是我說了算，我喜歡，你隨意。

非常重要的地位

另類搖滾祖師爺：Life was saved by Rock Roll

Lou Reed是有才，很偉大。香蕉是整個The Velvet Underground的，不是Lou Reed一個人的。

我個人比較介懷他人品方面的不仁不義。是他趕走了Nico和John Cale促成了The Velvet Underground的過早衰亡，為了鞏固他的個人地位。

俗話說，看一個人的朋友圈就知道他本人有多牛逼了【反正就這意思....】。老李和David Bowie啊Iggy Pop啊這倆搖滾老逼在年輕的時候可是穿過一條褲子的呢，傳下了一段3P搞基的佳話，再說老李和Andy Warhol這倆也是老朋友了，再說和老李地下絲絨合作的Nico那也是算得上是傳奇女性了啊，再說老李的妻子【也就是我的女神】Laurie Anderson那也是牛逼中的大牛逼啊，所以你說老李能不牛逼嗎！！！

且不說音樂地位了。。你看那根波普香蕉泛濫成什麼樣。。。。