Once I’ve been jamming after hours in an underground club in Split, when a group of sailors from the American Sixth Fleet arrived. Three of them joined me on the stage and together we performed On the Road Again and Walk On the Wild Side. Walk was better, and then I left the stage, because the guys were too good for me. But I did get their respect, and I was told that the Sixth Fleet will never attack the place where I live.
There has never been another song that better describes Manhattan than Perfect Day. I mean the sound of it. There is the quiet beauty, and the underlying pain, and the glorious, burning despair that one finds in Manhattan in October.
I watched Lou Reed’s concert only once, in Toronto. It was so straightforward, so unassuming. It was a lesson on how to share one’s art. Simple: you have something to say, so go on, stand before your audience and say it. Nothing less, nothing more.
First there was Berlin, then it got destroyed, than Lou made Berlin, then Berlin reappeared.
Oh, such a perfect day, I’m glad I’ve spent it with you…
That is love.