Seriously, I’m just done today. I feel like I’ve been done so many times in the past but today I just want to walk away from all of this because a) it doesn’t seem to matter anymore and b) it doesn’t seem like I’m getting anything out of this or like I’m not doing anything that’s productive here or like anything here on this platform is appreciated because I’m just bad at reaching out and I’m bad at saying the right things to people and I’m not good at being a part of groups. I don’t know. Something as inconsequential as a blogging platform shouldn’t cause this much stress. Not everyone here is nice and supportive and the same person who might be those things to you might be really horrible to someone else. Maybe I’m too old and tired for this.
In a lot of ways, “European Son” isn’t even that good of a song. In 1967, this was a radical way to send out your debut album, I’m sure: a minute of tense intro riffing (from both guitar and Lou Reed), a garbage can falls down a stairwell, glass breaks, and then nearly seven minutes of medium-aimless garage band ramalama. The Velvets themselves would top it within a year with the superior-in-every-way “Sister Ray,” and decades of guitar freakouts since make “European Son” sound a little milquetoast (as just one example, the Wedding Present’s “Take Me!” follows pretty much the same structure to much greater effect). The bulk of “European Son,” while compelling in its scratchy, febrile intensity, doesn’t really build to anything or go anywhere. Several times, it feels like the band is trying to right itself, or just figure out how to get out of a holding pattern. The preceding “The Black Angel’s Death Song” feels more radical now, might even feel like a more appropriate closer. And yet…
So the Singles Jukebox did a roundup of peoples’ thoughts about Lou Reed songs, and because I was the only one to pick something off of The Velvet Underground and Nico I got to go first. There’s a couple more paragraphs at the link, but more importantly also a bunch of other blurbs, all excellent (and all taking different angles on him). (via imathers)
I’m biased but Ian’s is the best one. They’re all good though, promise!
I use WhatsApp to text my family that lives outside of the US (Canada and Australia) and don’t have iPhones; it’s lovely. It connected to all of the numbers in my phone, most of them having a little subtitle that says “I’m using WhatsApp!” under the contact’s name. I noticed today that one of the connected contacts was my aunt’s number, the nickname I called her from the time I could talk right there. The subtitle under it had been customized to say, “God’s faithfulness endures forever!” which weirded me out because a) she’s been dead for three years and never got to use this app and b) she would never have a subtitle like that. My mind was weirdly blank and uncomfortable for about 30 seconds until I remembered that that wasn’t her phone number anymore, that I had been the one to call and disconnect that and her utilities and her Netflix account and her gym membership when she died. I still remember the number by heart, it had been her cell phone number as long as she had a cell phone starting off with a clunky awkward Ericsson flip phone in the late 90s. I called that number more times than I can even count, for a ride when I was drunk at a high school party or depressed in my college dorm or just because I saw the weirdest thing or because I was bored in traffic and wouldn’t want to talk to anyone but her; if I’d ever gotten arrested, hers would have been the number I called. It’s strange to think that someone else is not only using it but is so comfortable and settled into it that they’ve customized their WhatsApp subtitle; it’s weird to think of all the things we have and use and do without even realizing what ten little numbers can mean to someone you’ve never even heard of.