Laurie Anderson, on the death of her husband, Lou Reed


And then there’s this wholly other tribute, equal parts awful, mawkish, silly, and lovely (but better, for me, than what Danny Boyle did with, or to, the same song):

Love to Laurie Anderson and Lou’s other survivors. Miss ya, Lulu.

That is so wonderfully bizarre, I don’t even know what to think.

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Now I’m kind of wishing they’d done it to “Sister Ray” or something similar: THAT’S NO WAY TO EARN A DOLLAR, DON’T YOU KNOW YOU’LL STAIN THE CARPET? could have been epic.

Death is not a big issue. Life is.

I’m so sad for her loss. I’ve always thought that every picture I’ve seen of them together, they look so happy…

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It’s a beautiful image: doing tai chi just with his musician’s hands.

Peace and remembrance for you, Laurie Anderson.

I once heard Lou Reed in an interview describe himself as a novelist. I think that’s about right. It accounts for the largely spoken style, the detailed, realistic observation. When I told my wife he died, she said “He only had that one hit.” That’s not the point. Great art is not always a hit.

Caught between the twisted stars
the plotted lines the faulty map
that brought Columbus to New York
Betwixt between the East and West
he calls on her wearing a leather vest
the earth squeals and shudders to a halt
A diamond crucifix in his ear
is used to help ward off the fear
that he has left his soul in someone’s rented car

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Last week I promised Lou to get him out of the hospital and come home to Springs. And we made it!

I can only hope and pray that when my time of dying comes my wife will do the same for me.

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