June 23, 200620 yr I am Waiting For My Man, except I don't have $26 in my hand, this isn't Lexington, 125, nor do I feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive. I am in Gateshead, feeling excited, because I am about to meet Lou Reed, who wrote Waiting for the Man for the Velvet Underground. I'm also as nervous as I have ever been. Reed's curmudgeonly reputation precedes him. The last time the Guardian attempted to interview him, he declared: "I don't know anyone actually who does care what a critic says," before adding: "I'm not trying to intimidate you." I'm just here reviewing the gig, which has somehow resulted in me acquiring a backstage pass, along with the most curious ensemble of Reed "guests" imaginable. Reed used to hang out with David Bowie, Andy Warhol and New York's transvestites and junkies. Tonight he will face an undercover hack, two loud, obnoxious Americans, a 14-year-old boy and a man with a wooden leg. Eventually the Americans flounce off in a huff and the man with the wooden leg declares he once met the Beatles, so isn't bothered hanging around for the guy who created Metal Machine Music, 64 minutes of white noise. Finally, a woman says the "after-show party" just isn't going to happen. I'm the only one left by then, so she tells me: "Maybe you could hang out ... by the stage door." Who does she think I am? I am a grown adult, write for the Guardian and have a 90-minute drive home. Of course I'll hang out by the stage door. Moments later, there I am, autograph pen in hand, with 50 or so other Reed groupies. I feel terribly sorry for him. You change the face of music, and instead of being able to get back to your hotel for a mug of herbal tea and a bit of t'ai chi, you have to spend 10 minutes after every gig for the rest of your life behaving like you're in bloody Take That. People form an orderly line while Reed signs autographs in silence. I have 45 seconds to put a question to Reed, which probably rules out the stuff I'd stored up earlier, such as asking him about his infamous encounter with gonzo rock journalist Lester Bangs, when they stayed up all night discussing the purity of mind-boggling varieties of narcotics (published as Let Us Now Praise Famous Death Dwarves, or How I Slugged It Out with Lou Reed and Stayed Awake). Nervously, I pick the most topical question I can, and hit him with it. "Mr Reed, what did you think of Coldplay covering your song Perfect Day at the Isle of Wight Festival?" If it were humanly possible, Reed's expression darkens even further. "They did whaaaaaaat?" I tell him Chris Martin told the media that because Reed hadn't played it during his set, Coldplay did it in theirs. "You're kidding." Reed looks so infuriated that I'm still not sure whether his next question "Have you heard that?" is directed at me or members of his entourage. I hurriedly try to pacify him, telling him that although I wasn't at the Isle of Wight and people say Coldplay were pretty good there's no way their Perfect Day could have been anywhere near the unutterably lovely version he played that evening in Gateshead. But he's not having it. I meet Lou Reed and escape with an insight into why he's so famously miserable. I mean, if it's not enough having all sorts of freaks line up for your scrawl on a bit of paper, you get whippersnappers like Coldplay stealing your best bloody songs. Source: http://arts.guardian.co.uk
June 23, 200620 yr He really is as miserable as he seemed on stage!!:rolleyes: I dont get why he didnt play any of his famous songs at IOW, the crowd might have taken to him better. :shifty:
June 23, 200620 yr you get whippersnappers like Coldplay stealing your best bloody songs Am I wrong or they just covered it because he didn't sing it while the audience wanted that song? :dozey: dear god, people should be more relaxed
June 23, 200620 yr i think chris just said that so he didn't sound such a miserable git to the crowd (lou i mean not chris! lol). It went down really well. I'm glas they did it rather than him. there would have been a shit atmosphere given his mood!
June 23, 200620 yr i have never heard of lou reed b4??? :dozey: :o anyways, he dont sound like a nice person!! lol. i liked the copy, and thought it were funny!! lol. they were so amazin at IOW!!!!
June 23, 200620 yr wtf? he helped to produce low and other songs on x&y so this is a complete bs if you ask me.
June 23, 200620 yr What a fucking baby. Coldplay have as much right to cover your song as the Back Street Boys, Lou Reed, even though you were obviously so much better than anyone else who performed at IoW and therefore cannot be bothered by inferior bands covering your musical gold. They must be punished. RWAR.
June 23, 200620 yr So I thought Chris said that Lou asked him a favour to play it and that's why they learned it right before... was he lying about that? I really don't think so!
June 23, 200620 yr I am Waiting For My Man, except I don't have $26 in my hand, this isn't Lexington, 125, nor do I feel sick and dirty, more dead than alive. I am in Gateshead, feeling excited, because I am about to meet Lou Reed, who wrote Waiting for the Man for the Velvet Underground. I'm also as nervous as I have ever been. Reed's curmudgeonly reputation precedes him. The last time the Guardian attempted to interview him, he declared: "I don't know anyone actually who does care what a critic says," before adding: "I'm not trying to intimidate you." I'm just here reviewing the gig, which has somehow resulted in me acquiring a backstage pass, along with the most curious ensemble of Reed "guests" imaginable. Reed used to hang out with David Bowie, Andy Warhol and New York's transvestites and junkies. Tonight he will face an undercover hack, two loud, obnoxious Americans, a 14-year-old boy and a man with a wooden leg. Eventually the Americans flounce off in a huff and the man with the wooden leg declares he once met the Beatles, so isn't bothered hanging around for the guy who created Metal Machine Music, 64 minutes of white noise. Finally, a woman says the "after-show party" just isn't going to happen. I'm the only one left by then, so she tells me: "Maybe you could hang out ... by the stage door." Who does she think I am? I am a grown adult, write for the Guardian and have a 90-minute drive home. Of course I'll hang out by the stage door. Moments later, there I am, autograph pen in hand, with 50 or so other Reed groupies. I feel terribly sorry for him. You change the face of music, and instead of being able to get back to your hotel for a mug of herbal tea and a bit of t'ai chi, you have to spend 10 minutes after every gig for the rest of your life behaving like you're in bloody Take That. People form an orderly line while Reed signs autographs in silence. I have 45 seconds to put a question to Reed, which probably rules out the stuff I'd stored up earlier, such as asking him about his infamous encounter with gonzo rock journalist Lester Bangs, when they stayed up all night discussing the purity of mind-boggling varieties of narcotics (published as Let Us Now Praise Famous Death Dwarves, or How I Slugged It Out with Lou Reed and Stayed Awake). Nervously, I pick the most topical question I can, and hit him with it. "Mr Reed, what did you think of Coldplay covering your song Perfect Day at the Isle of Wight Festival?" If it were humanly possible, Reed's expression darkens even further. "They did whaaaaaaat?" I tell him Chris Martin told the media that because Reed hadn't played it during his set, Coldplay did it in theirs. "You're kidding." Reed looks so infuriated that I'm still not sure whether his next question "Have you heard that?" is directed at me or members of his entourage. I hurriedly try to pacify him, telling him that although I wasn't at the Isle of Wight and people say Coldplay were pretty good there's no way their Perfect Day could have been anywhere near the unutterably lovely version he played that evening in Gateshead. But he's not having it. I meet Lou Reed and escape with an insight into why he's so famously miserable. I mean, if it's not enough having all sorts of freaks line up for your scrawl on a bit of paper, you get whippersnappers like Coldplay stealing your best bloody songs. Source: http://arts.guardian.co.uk Oh that is so funny! :laugh3: Poor guy! (The one who asked Reed) I don't see why he should be upset.. :dozey:
June 23, 200620 yr Am I wrong or they just covered it because he didn't sing it while the audience wanted that song? :dozey: dear god, people should be more relaxed yes, and they were cheering and singing along
June 24, 200620 yr whatever coldplay can play whoever they want because they are coldplay. and if lou reed doesnt like it he can cry about it and go eat some ice cream :)
June 24, 200620 yr or craft a pair of trousers from a black bin bag to match his t shirt.... just a suggestion! hehe
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