03 November 2006

Something 4 The Weekend # 12

This song has killed people, but I'm not sure Lou Reed can be held as an accomplice. Gramercy Park Hotel cocaine groupies out on the balcony in the pale moonlight, girls of sixteen, white as bags of wicked good heroin, and what's a poor boy to do but sing in a glam blues band?

Glamercy Park hangers on kept hanging on...Monkey on the shower head with a double-barreled microphone...And birds...So many birds...Exotic...Uncaged...And what's Lou to do, after his machine and pure speed nearly crushed him?

Take the scene to Mediasound, NYC, lord the main and master in the back, so many illicit thrusts and jams...Hallucinating kind and $500 bottles of wine in the control room...The maker is outta his mind, and the fakers hang on for their lives...Yeah, more birds and apes...Death in the vocal booth, but it's not the singer this time, it's the song...Pre-meditated heart attack, or something like that...

Hey, babycakes, what's yr style? How do you come back after yr big crash? Eyeliner and more electricity, or acid naps and dreams of milk?

Lou Reed: Coney Island Baby: "Kicks" [128kbps mp3]

Hey, babycakes! How do ya get yr kicks for living?

Hotcha! Hank

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