“1969, a group of fellow "delinquents, malcontents and longhairs", including yours truly, (a satellite to these worlds and many others) were in the science lab of Beverly School for Boys, a secondary modern in the suburbs of London, Kingston upon Thames, talking drugs and music, mainly music, avoiding schoolwork.”
A
distant relative of Peter, a nostalgic memory in the back of Peter’s mind, was
sick of the Beatles and all his "friends" were listening to
"white" blues, the likes of John Mayall, and Ten Years After. “You
cannot be serious!” Nothing seemed to be enough. His musical source, chief
longhair, first into anything slightly poisonous, slightly pornographic, was,
that distant week, into the Grateful Dead, Quicksilver Messenger Service, the
whole west coast scene but, nothing seemed to be enough so he lent him a copy
of "White Light / White Heat". In the original black cover. “You
won’t like that!” Sideswiped I Know It All, hippy smirk on his face directed at
his hippy sidekicks.
That was enough. For the next three years he told me he had been such a purist that he would only listen to the first two Velvet Underground albums. Loaded was out of bounds and Lou Reed’s solo efforts were a sacrilege. Then, in seventy two he had seen Reed play live at Kingston Polytechnic and then came "Berlin".
That was more than enough. Everything since has always been more than enough for a hero, the last of the knights in shining armour, a good man with good taste in music, a ghostly presence and time traveller, who is prone to rescuing damsels in distress from enormously tall ivory towers, always to the soundtrack of "Sister Ray". That is the scale of an obsession.
“The Velvet Underground opened doors to all kinds of unbelievable art and literature, films and photography and, once the doors are opened, well, there is simply no shutting them. Cale and Reed navigated my life toward an interesting creative curve and then, without realising the speed at which everything was spinning, I became a real artist. It was essentially their fault! That was more than enough, because, once the doors are opened, once the curve is taken, there is no turning back. It had all done so much for me I thought it should all do so much for everyone else. I spread the word. It was all so urgent, so important, but, didn't we have fun? We did, but it still is, and we still do!”
We
still do.
The
illustration for this true story is a painting of Lou Reed by David F. Brandon.
Brandon has told me that it was taken from a photograph by Mick Rock on the
cover of a Time Out magazine published in about 1973/1974. The painting dates
from those years.
