LOU REED 1942-2013

“Rock & roll is so great, people should start dying for it. You don’t understand. The music gave you back your beat so you could dream…The people just have to die for the music. People are dying for everything else, so why not for music? Die for it. Isn’t it pretty? Wouldn’t you die for something pretty? ”
It’s as if Lou Reed is helping wipe the tears of fans everywhere, with his forever lingering punk poety as we all mourn the death of rock’s revolutionary asshole. Hardly anyone is talking about the liver disease that was the medical reason for Reed’s death at the age of 71 last Sunday morning. But instead, they are celebrating the legacy that touched so many souls throughout the last few decades.
Reed has left an impact that humbly and quite silently stands next to monumental musicians like Bob Dylan. Lou Reed was a solo artist and front man for his original band The Velvet Underground.
“The Velvet Underground and Nico” was not just any album, but was the first album that ever showed me how important music really is. Specifically through the creepiest sounds of punk, art and reality in songs like, “Heroin” and “The Black Angel’s Death Song” The band originally only sold 30,000 copies of their album, but as musician Brian Eno famously said, every one of those 30,000 copies started a band.
His origins in music were artful songs of truth that heavily reflected the fan of an even larger flame that was already sparked by the Andy Warhol-era of the ‘70s. Reed’s solo career was unscathed, with gritty hits like “Take a Walk on the Wild Side” and “Satellite of Love.”
Reed managed to successfully keep his cool-guy shades in midst of revolutionizing a new way of music. When I discovered songs like “Pale Blue Eyes”, my soul was moved in ways I didn’t know a 16-year old girl could be moved in. Disturbingly sexy rock hits like “Oh! Sweet Nothing” speaks to any tortured heart that buries their thoughts in a good pair of headphones.  Fame never pumped his ego, instead he let his art flatter his vision.
Lou Reed’s magic was pure and it was real. It spoke to people in ways that music had never spoken to people before. His hauntingly humble tunes have left a seriously large mark on musical history.  Even in death, the man knew how to keep his cool, with such a private bow out.
Lou Reed was one of rock’s finest artists, who never gave up his passions or betrayed his roots for mainstream popularity. Reed was probably still thinking of music on his deathbed. If it were up to him, I’m sure, he’d rather music critics everywhere ignore his death and just keep writing about his music.
Linger on Lou; linger on your pale brown eyes.