Lou Reed, you're one heavy dude—heavy as a cannon ball's fall down a tall, tall cliff... and onto my brain, brother, 'cause you get me going.
And Charley's Girl—honestly, Charley's Girl?! Where has this song been all my life? And why's it so short?! You got the song in briefs when I want it in boxers, Lou - this one's gotta breathe. I want that eezy-breezy riff with me wherever I go—shoveling snow, eating lunch, and hearing the radio. You got me, man.
Then, of course, there's Satellite of Love and Andy's Chest. Just wow—honest. Here I am a grown man: You'd think my wows and goshes were well dissipated, but not so fast, Owen - gosh those lyrics are poignantly free-associative; wow his delivery's lazy-cool; shucks he's flat inspiring.
Yes, some of his solo albums've been dogs; yes, Metal Machine Music was an hour of loosely choreographed, atonal dross; and yes, he strangely collaborated with the Killers (with dire results)—but when this man's ON, I'm OFF... mused and amused, brother.
And you struck Warhol and Bowie the same way.
You hunk. Be proud.
Click here for Lou's complete discography (organized by rating), courtesy the upstanding folks at AllMusic.com. I'm especially partial to Transformer and Coney Island Baby. Check 'em out!