Meeting Lou Reed
Meeting the man who inspired it all, and by "it all" I mean pretty much everything I've done since
Meeting my Heroes is an occasional essay series from Matt Carmichael.
From the mini-series, Meeting the Velvet Underground: Lou Reed, John Cale, Moe Tucker, and Sterling Morrison
I met Lou Reed twice. In two very different contexts. He was only kind of a jerk one of those times. But it’s important to understand why I met Lou. So let me take you back to my high school band classroom. (Note: these posts won’t always be long, but I need to set the stage for what’s to come)
I won’t say, “my life was saved by rocknroll.” But it’s impossible to understate the way this black cassette altered the my trajectory. Sometimes my brain does a nice job of remembering really important moments, even if they don't seem like it. Anil handed me a black Maxell XLII-S tape (a step up from my usual XLIIs) with Lou Reed's New York on it. From there it was all the day down the rabbit hole. I think Velvet Underground Live 1969 was next. And then deeper into Lou's solo and the Velvet's catalog. Eventually, as I continued my obsession (as seen in the Daily Northwestern), I got into the bootlegs as well. But being a Lou Reed fan used to be a pretty lonely thing. Even when I went to see him live at the Fox Theater on the Magic and Loss tour I had no way of knowing that Ernesto, who would become a great friend, was only a row away.
That night was the first time I met Lou. Just like any other fan, I waited for the man, outside the backstage door. He came out with an assistant, a Sharpie and a box of 8x10s which he signed for everyone there. He was gracious but not overly chatty. I asked him about a lyric I couldn’t make out from the Velvets and he kind of dismissively said he didn’t remember himself. There wasn’t an Internet really to answer these questions for me.
That would change, and I would help change it.
It all started on Prodigy, the pre-Web dial-up online service. As a huge Lou Reed fan I was mildly irritated that there were like 42 message boards for U2 and none for the artists who gave them U2 its inspiration. So I started a Lou Reed board and attracted some people, though not many. Although one was Lisa Robinson?!? (gift link) This was 1991.
As the Internet began to take hold, I continued to be disappointed in the lack of Lou/Velvet Underground-related materials. So first I ran an FTP site. Then I started a newsgroup. I want to say I had a gopher for a moment. And as the first betas of Mosaic started to put a graphic face on the Web, I put together the first Lou Reed Web page with the easy to remember URL: http://daneel.acns.nwu.edu:8081/html/lou/discog.html. I had to compile the Web server myself (with the help of Jon and Jack) since it wasn't like there were any public servers anywhere. It was now March 1994 and the Web was fewer than 3,000 sites old. I posted a note to the Lou list, then run by Anthony J. Rzepela, a man I've never met, but owe much to. And folks from the world over started showing up in my logs. Man, the Internet's cool. We forget that sometimes.
That site certainly changed the trajectory of my life by opening doors, connecting me with new people and fostering an interest in the intersection of music and community, content and technology. Perhaps first and foremost, the late Steven W. Yahn who, in a my first real job interview at Ad Age, almost jumped from the table when I said I had built a Lou Reed Web site. “LOU REED???? Man, I saw the Velvets back at the Dom!” (Sometime I’ll tell the full story of meeting Steve)
The site contained, among other things, a lyric archive. Partially crowd-sourced and partially me just sitting down typing up lyrics sheets from the albums. I named my computer after the line I couldn’t make out: “gypsy death and you” from What goes On. Once Northwestern opened up public servers, I moved it over to a mac-based web server named Charlotte. And then when I graduated I found hosts and bought the rocknroll.net domain just about two years to the day after the sites launched at NU.
That site became the basis for all that is rocknroll.net now. So how old is this site? Soooo old, that for a while, if you searched the entire Internet for the word "Heroin," this site came up #1 because of the lyric archive. And if you searched for a couple favorite four-letter words, this was in the top five. And I mean, of course, searching with Lycos when it was still at cmu.edu. Or Yahoo! when it was still some Stanford kids
Meeting Lou Reed, take 2
I’d been in touch with his team at Sister Ray Enterprises about the site. Trying to get some support for it. At first they made me take down all the lyrics and album covers because of copyright. Which was kind of rude. Although they also put a little effort into trying to figure out how I could get licensed to post that stuff when there were no clear laws about the Internet. I tried to get a photo pass for his show at the Rosemont Theater and they said no so I just bought a ticket. I again hung out by the backstage door for a while. It swung open at one point and I heard people on the other side searching for a Sharpie. I pulled one out of my pocket and said, “I have one, but I’m out here….” The security guy shrugged and waved me in.
Inside I found my way to the room where Lou and some other folks and fans were hanging out. Lou was having a cigar and chatting. I approached him to sign my copy of his book of lyrics.
“Hey Lou, I’m Matt Carmichael, the guy who does the Web site about you.”
“Oh, yeah I know who you are,” said Lou Reed to me.
Let that sink in a moment. As I tried to then.
He signed the book (which I then loaned to Monica who never gave it back and I’m sad) and I asked if I could take a couple pictures.
“For you, or the site,” he asked.
“Well ideally for the site, but if not just for me.”
“Yeah, sure, but just for you for now… until I figure out what I make of you,” he said.
“OK,”
And then he asked me a follow-up question that I still can’t get over.
He asked, “Are you a man of honor.”
The thought bubble was all, “Are you serious, Lou? Really? I’ve devoted countless hours to promoting the gospel of Lou and maybe have almost as big a chip on my shoulder about how under-appreciated you as you do. Almost.”
But I said, “of course,” and we shook hands and I took a couple pictures and ducked out.
And that was that.
Around this time I’d started working with Poi Dog Pondering on a site for them. It was… a different experience than this. And so the Poi site took off and I let my Lou site languish but have kept it running for 30 years.
Am I disappointed that meeting this hero, didn’t go better? Nope. And it might seem like an odd one to start this series with, given the idea behind “Meeting my Heroes.” But he didn’t disappoint. Everyone in music journalism needed a “Lou Reed was a jerk to me” story, and I now had mine. Although, really, he wasn’t even that much of a jerk.
And I learned a lot about the value of harnessing enthusiasm and the waste of not doing so. And that it’s good to understand your heroes for what they are as well as what they aren’t. But mostly I learned a lesson I still take to heart: always, always carry a Sharpie.
Here’s one of the photos he eventually did grant me permission to post online. Sadly I didn’t have someone take a picture of me with him.
