I light up a cigarette, look westward, and think how wonderful it would be to live in New York. In America, everything is there: people who can achieve personal success from nothing with hard work, values that no longer exist anywhere else, the desire to overcome difficulties, and the conviction that the system does everything to pull you out of the shitty situation you’re in (whereas in Italy, you always feel like you're being coated in Vaseline to get it shoved up your ass better). It really seems like a great place, so great that even John Lennon made it his home, admitting that "New York is what Rome was in ancient times or Paris in the 1800s."
I MUST GO LIVE IN NEW YORK!!!
But let's hold on a minute: better to stick to the proverb that goes "not all that glitters is gold" and get more information.
Could I perhaps find a more reliable source than Lou Reed, the quintessential New York artist (obviously after Warhol's death)? Obviously not.
But which album should I choose for good Lou to guide me through the Big Apple? Clearly the one with the title of what interests me.
NEW YORK!!!
I listen to the album, read the lyrics, translate them: with great poetry, they recount New York. Not the New York of Wall Street and the high skyscrapers, but the New York of the suburbs where arrests, drugs, murders, and prostitution are the order of the day. Lou's poetry and music get into your guts and I think that, even if America is not the earthly paradise one imagines, a place like that, if it's capable of inspiring such poetry, is REAL. There are REAL people, ideals, and lifestyles that still exist which, regardless of whether they're objectively right or wrong, are REAL.
So I reiterate what I said at the beginning:
WE MUST GO LIVE IN NEW YORK!!!
A timeless masterpiece with a sound that could have been produced in 1920 or in 2100. As for the role that this album played in Lou Reed's career, I won’t comment: the RingoStarfish review on this site is comprehensive enough on the matter.
If you’ve never listened to it, I have no clue why you're still here reading this crappy review (even if I had written a masterpiece, it wouldn’t be enough to describe this work of pure art) and haven’t dashed to the record store to buy it for 58 minutes of pure aural orgasm.
The album seems almost eternal, without the possibility of dating or aging, so perfectly and purely rock that it never becomes obsolete.
Lou leverages the clarity acquired in previous years to passionately and poetically, ironically and angrily tell us about his life and that of all those like him who live in the Big Apple.
Fucking metalheads, listen to Lou Reed.
This man could sing a shopping list making it an epochal event.