“I have never thought of music as a challenge—you always figure the audience is at least as smart as you are. You do this because you like it, you think what you’re making is beautiful.” —Lou Reed (1942–2013)
In many ways, it's a miracle that Lou Reed, who passed away yesterday at the age of 71, lived as long as he did. And yet, somehow, the fact itself is beyond belief. Lou was like New York itself: tough, raw, abrasive, polarizing. And also: tender, searing, warm, inspiring. Along with Dylan, Lou forged the archetype for the modern rock poet, both through his solo work and his collaborations with everyone from John Cale to Metallica. The artists and musicians Lou inspired are too numerous to list here; for all the heartfelt remembrances circulating today, we've barely scratched the surface of his enormous and widespread impact.
But more than anything, Lou's passing serves as a startling reminder that, as much as we'd like to think our rock gods will go on forever, their voices will be silenced sooner than any of us would like to believe. Sure, the albums will always be there, but if you've never had the chance to experience them live, now's the time.
I'll leave the last words to Lou:
"Rock & roll is so great, people should start dying for it. People are dying for everything else, so why not the music? Wouldn't you die for something pretty?
Perhaps I should die. After all, all the great blues singers did die. But, life is getting better now.
I don't want to die. Do I?" (from "Fallen Knights and Fallen Ladies," 1973)