To a certain fan of a certain subgenre of rock and roll, and certainly to any rock critic, there are few things in life more agreeable than the disagreeably somnambulant snarl of Mr. Lou Reed. There's just something kind of relaxing about the deep, nasal croak that drones on like a distant jackhammer smashing its last bit of concrete. It lulls you into a vague, uneasy stupor, but lulls nonetheless. You could go to sleep listening to Lou talk. It's amazing he doesn't doze off, though from the way he answers an interviewer's questions--like he's having them translated into his native tongue by some assistant on another phone line only he can... More >>>