Anybody who'd been around as long and who values his independence as much as Reed is going to have some embarrassing shit in his catalog. That's OK. You can have a chuckle at that stuff and shake your head in disbelief while still revering the bulk of what he's done. See also Young, Neil and Dylan, Bob.

"My weak beats in your ear."

None of those words was adequately racist.

What the fuck was going on in the 80s? Was it all the cocaine? Did Ronald Reagan just confuse everybody to the point of insanity? Was it all Michael Jackson's fault? My god what a weird decade.

The original is a masterpiece. The remake is kind of turd. The book is amazing.

I'm starting to look at it as intentionally absurd also. No matter what happens we're just back to square one, every single time.

Excellent soundtrack by a bunch of indie and alt-rock allstars.

Wasn't. It wasn't egregiously awful. Past tense.

Smiley Face was a pretty good opportunity for her to show what she can do.

Fucking Ned just cannot hold on to a wife.

Huh. I don't see anything wrong with it. With someone as old as Reed, or anybody else where the bulk of their work is behind them (Neil Young, Dylan, etc.) I don't think it hurts to have something already written down that you've taken plenty of time to think about.

Good point. Funeral services exist for the benefit of the mourners anyway. You will not give a shit.

The Contours. Geils Band version is better though.

Money, natch. The original Barrett Strong version or the Beatles, can't go wrong either way.

Cool, but I find all of this terribly optimistic. Doesn't anyone else, in their most painfully honest moments, kind of suspect they may wind up tossed in an unfinished pine box in potter's field?

Ooh La La artfully faded into Real Good Time to close things out.

Yup, just so.

More sweet avatar/comment symmetry from E.Buzz.

Sweet Jane. It's obvious, but nothing else will do.

Definitely the soundtrack to the sad penultimate scene of a future biopic. The one where we slowly pan up from the foot of the bed.