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SONGS FOR DRELLA - A Fiction is a brief musical look at the life of Andy Warhol and is entirely fictitious. We start with Andy growing up in a "Smalltown" - "There's no Michelangelo coming from Pittsburgh." He comes to New York and follows the customs of "Open House" both in his apartment and the Factory. "It's a Czechoslovakian custom my mother passed on to me/the way to make friends Andy is to invite them up for tea." He travels around the world and is in his words "Forever Changed." He knows the importance of people and money in the art world ["Style is all it takes"] and follows his primary ethic, "Work - the most important thing is work." He can copy the classicists but feels "the trouble with the classicists, they look at a tree/that's all they see/ they paint a tree ..." Andy wished we all had the same name "Faces and Names." He becomes involved with movies - "Starlight." He is interested in repetitive "Images" - "I love images worth repeating ... see them with a different feeling." The mortality rate at the Factory is rather high and some blame Andy - "It wasnot me who shamed you ..." The open house policy leads him to being shot ["I Believe"]. He had been warned but a new, locked door approach at the Factory caused him to wonder "... if I have to live in fear/where will I get my ideas ... slowly Slip Away?5 One night he has 'A Dream,' his relationships change ... "A Nobody Like You." He dies recovering from a gall bladder operation. Chocolates were his weakness. We miss him very much. "Hello, It's Me." - Lou Reed SONGS FOR DRELLA is a collaboration, the second Lou and I have completed since 1965. I must therefore say that although I think he did most of the work, he has allowed me to keep a position of dignity in the process. It therefore remains, as intended, a tribute to someone whose inspiration and generosity offered over the years is now remembered with much love and admiration. - John Cale SONGS FOR DRELLA - A Fiction 1990 Originally co-commissioned by The Brooklyn Academy Of Music and The Arts At St. Ann's. 1. Small Town 2. Open House 3. Style It Takes 4. Work 5. Trouble With Classicists 6. Starlight 7. Faces And Names 8. Images 9. Slip Away (A Warning) 10. It Wasn't Me 11. I Believe 12. Nobody But You [13. A Dream] 14. Forever Changed 15. Hello It's Me SMALL TOWN When you're growing up in a small town When you're growing up in a small town When you're growing up in a small town You say no one famous ever came from here When you're growing up in a small town and you're having a nervous breakdown and you think that you'll never escape it Yourself or the place that you live Where did Picasso come from There's no Michelangelo coming from Pittsburgh If art is the tip of the iceberg I'm the part sinking below When you're growing up in a small town Bad skin, bad eyes - gay and fatty People look at you funny When you're in a small town My father worked in construction It's not something for which I'm suited Oh - what is something for which you are suited? Getting out of here I hate being odd in a small town If they stare let them stare in New York City as this pink eyed painting albino How far can my fantasy go? I'm no Dali coming from Pittsburgh No adorable lisping Capote My hero - Oh do you think I could meet him? I'd camp out at his front door There is only one good thing about small town There is only one good use for a small town There is only one good thing about small town You know that you want to get out When you're growing up in a small town You know you'll grow down in a small town There is only one good use for a small town You hate it and you'll know you have to leave OPEN HOUSE Please Come over to 81st street I'm in the apartment above the bar You know you can't miss it, it's across from the subway and the tacky store with the mylar scarves My skin's as pale as outdoors moon My hair's silver like a Tiffany watch I like lots of people around me but don't kiss hello and please don't touch It's a Czechoslovakian custom my mother passed on to me The way to make friends Andy is invite them up for tea Open house, open house I've got a lot of cats, here's my favorite she's lady called Sam I made a paper doll of her - you can have it That's what I did when I had St.Vitus dance It's a Czechoslovakian custom my mother passed on to me Give people little presents so they remember me Open house, open house Someone bring the vegetables, someone please bring heat My mother showed up yesterday, we need something to eat I think I got a job today they want me to draw shoes The ones I drew were old and used They told me to draw something new Open house, open house Fly me to the moon, fly me to a star But there are no stars in the New York sky They're all on the ground You scared yourself with music, I scared myself with paint It almost made me faint Open house, open house STYLE IT TAKES You've got the money, I've got the time You want your freedom, make your freedom mine 'Cause I've the style it takes and money is all that it takes You've got connections, I've got the art You like my attention and I like your looks and I have the style it takes and you know the people it takes Why don't you sit right over there, we'll do a movie portrait I'll turn the camera on and I won't even be there A portrait that moves, you look great I think I'll put the Empire State Building on your wall For 24 hours glowing on your wall Watch the sun rise above it in your room Wallpaper art, a great view I've got a Brillo box and I say it's art It's the same one you can buy at any supermarket 'Cause I've got the style it takes And you've got the people it takes This is a rock group called The Velvet Underground I show movies on them Do you like their sound 'Cause they have a style that grates and I have art to make Let's do a movie here next week We don't have sound but you're so great You don't have to speak You've got the style it takes (Kiss) You've got the style it takes (Eat) I've got the style it takes (Couch) We've got the style it takes (Kiss) WORK Andy was a Catholic, the ethic ran through his bones He lived alone with his mother, collecting gossip and toys Every Sunday when he went to Church He'd kneel in his pew and say, "It's just work, all that matters is work." Andy was a lot of things, what I remember most He'd say, "I've got to bring home the bacon, someone's got to bring home the roast." He'd get to the factory early If you'd ask him he'd tell you straight out It's just work, the most important thing is work No matter what I did it never seemed enough He said I was lazy, I said I was young He said, "How many songs did you write?" I'd written zero, I'd lied and said, "Ten." "You won't be young forever You should have written fifteen" It's work, the most important thing is work It's work, the most important thing is work "You ought to make things big People like it that way And the songs with the dirty words - record them that way" Andy liked to stir up trouble, he was funny that way He said, "It's just work, all that matters is work" Andy sat down to talk one day He said decide what you want Do you want to expand your parameters Or play museums like some dilettante I fired him on the spot, he got red and called me a rat It was the worst word that he could think of And I've never seen him like that It's just work, I thought he said it's just work Work, he said it's just work Andy said a lot of things, I stored them all away in my head Sometimes when I can't decide what I should do I think what would Andy have said He'd probably say you think too much That's 'cause there's work that you don't want to do It's work, the most important thing is work Work, the most important thing is work TROUBLE WITH CLASSICISTS The trouble with a classicist he looks at a tree That's all he sees, he paints a tree The trouble with a classicist he looks at the sky He doesn't ask why, he just paints a sky The trouble with an impressionist, he looks at a log And he doesn't know who he is, standing, staring, at this log And surrealist memories are too amorphous and proud While those downtown macho painters are just alcoholic The trouble with impressionist is The trouble with impressionist is The trouble with personalities, they're too wrapped up in style It's too personal, they're in love with their own guile They're like illegal aliens trying to make a buck They're driving gypsy cabs but they're thinking like a truck The trouble with personalities is The trouble with personalities is I like the druggy downtown kids who spray paint walls and trains I like their lack of training, their primitive technique I think sometimes it hurts you when you stay too long in school I think sometimes it hurts you when you're afraid to be called a fool The trouble with classicists is The trouble with classicists is STARLIGHT Starlight open wide, starlight open up you door This is New York calling with movies on the street Movies with real people, what you get is what you see Starlight open wide, Andy's Cecil B. DeMille Come on L.A. give us a call We've got superstars who talk, they'll do anything at all Ingrid, Viva, Little Joe, Baby Jane, and Eddie S. But you better call us soon before we talk ourselves to death Starlight open wide everybody is a star Split screen 8-hour movies We've got color, we've got sound Won't you recognize us, we're everything you hate Andy loves old Hollywood movies, he'll scare you hypocrites to death You know that shooting up's for real That person who's screaming, that's the way he really feels We're all improvising, five movies in a week If Hollywood doesn't call us - we'll be sick Starlight open wide Do to movies what you did to art Can you see beauty in ugliness, or is it playing in the dirt There are stars out on the New York streets We want to capture them on film But if no one wants to see them We'll make another and another Starlight let us in that magic room We've all dreamt of Hollywood, it can't happen too soon Won't you give us a million dollars the rent is due And will give you 2 movies and a painting Starlight open wide! FACES AND NAMES Faces and names, I wish they were the same Faces and names only cause trouble for me Faces and names If we all looked the same and we all had the same name I wouldn't be jealous of you or you jealous of me Faces and names I always fall in love with someone who looks the way I wish that I could be I'm always staring at someone who hurts And the one they hurt is me Faces and names, to me they're all the same If I looked like you and you looked like me There'd be less trouble you see Faces and names I wish they'd go away I'd disappear into that wall and never talk Faces and names I wish I was a robot or a machine Without a feeling or a thought People who want to meet the name I have Are always disappointed when they meet me Faces and names, I wish they were the same Faces and names only cause problems for me Faces and names I'd rather be a hole in the wall - looking out on the other side I'd rather look and listen, listen and not talk To faces and names I had a breakdown when I was a kid I lost my hair when I was young If you dress older when you're not, as your really age you look the same If we all looked the same, we wouldn't play these games Me dressing for you and you dressing for me - undressing for me Faces and names if they all were the same You wouldn't be jealous of me o me jealous of you Me jealous of you - I'm jealous of you Your face and your name Your face and your name Faces and names IMAGES I think images are worth repeating Images repeated from a painting Images taken from a painting From a photo worth re-seeing I love images worth repeating, project them upon the ceiling Multiply them with silk screening See them with a different feeling Images Images Images Images Some say images have no feeling, I think there's a deeper meaning Mechanical precision or so it's seeming Instigates a cooler feeling I love multiplicity of screenings Things born anew display new meanings I think images are worth repeating and repeating and repeating I'm no urban idiot savant spewing paint without any order I'm no sphinx, no mystery enigma What I paint is very ordinary I don't think I'm old or modern, I don't think I think I'm thinking It doesn't matter what I'm thinking It's the images that are worth repeating Images Images Images Images If you're looking for a deeper meaning, I'm as deep as this high ceiling If you think technique is meaning, you might find me very simple You might think that images boring Cars and cans and chairs and flowers You might find me personally boring Hammer, sickle, Mao Tse Tong, Mao Tse Tong - I think that it bears repeating the images upon the ceiling I love images worth repeating and repeating and repeating Images Images Images Images SLIP AWAY (A WARNING) People said to lock the door and have an open house no more The said the Factory must change and slowly slip away But if I have to live in fear, where will I get my ideas With all those crazy people gone, will I slowly slip away Still there's no more Billy Name, and Ondine is not the same Wonton and the Turtle gone Slowly slip away...slowly slip away If I close the Factory door and don't see those people anymore If I give in yo infamy...I'll slowly slip away I know it seems that friends are right Hello daylight, goodbye night But starlight is so quiet here, think I'll slowly slip away What can I do by myself, it's good to here from someone else It's good to hear a crazy voice that will not slip away Will not slip away If I have to live in fear my ideas will slowly slip away If I have to live in fear I'm afraid my life will slip away If you can't see me past my door Why your thoughts could slowly slip away If I have to lock the door, another life exists no more Slip away Friends have said to lock the door Watch out for who comes through the door The said the Factory must change But I don't IT WASN'T ME It wasn't me who shamed you, it's not fair to say that You wanted to work I gave you a chance at that It wasn't me who hurt you, that's more credit that I'm worth Don't threaten me with the things you'll do to you It wasn't me who shamed you, it wasn't me who brought you down You did it to yourself without any help from me It wasn't me who hurt you, I showed you possibilities The problems you had were there before you met me I didn't say this had to be You can't blame these things on me It wasn't , it wasn't me, it wasn't me I know she's dead, it wasn't me It wasn't me who changed you, you did it to yourself I'm not an excuse for the hole you dropped in I'm not simple minded but I'm not father to you at all Death exists but you do things to yourself I never said give up control I never said stick a needle in your arm and die It wasn't , it wasn't me, it wasn't me I know she's dead but it wasn't me It wasn't me who shamed you, who covered you with mud You did it to yourself without any help from me You act as I could've told you or stopped you like some god But people never listen and you know that that's a fact I never said slit your wrists and die I never said throw your life away It wasn't , it wasn't me, it wasn't me You're killing yourself - you can't blame me "Andy did some incredibly generous things for me. But he had made it clear he was not some mutant artist-father responsible for us all. This often resulted in cruelty, but I agreed with his position." (Taken from Lou Reed's "Between Thought and Expression") I BELIEVE Valerie Solanis took the elevator got off at the 4th floor Valerie Solanis took the elevator got off at the 4th floor She pointed the gun at Andy saying you cannot control me anymore And I believe there's got to be some retribution I believe an eye for an eye is elemental And I believe that something's wrong if she's alive right now Valerie Solanis took three steps pointing at the floor Valerie Solanis waved her gun pointing at the floor From inside her idiot madness spoke and bang Andy fell onto the floor And I believe life's serious enough for retribution I believe being sick is no excuse and I believe I would've pulled the switch on her myself When they got him to the hospital his pulse was gone they thought that he was dead His guts were pouring from his wounds onto the floor they thought that he was dead Not until years later would the hospital do to him what she could not Andy said, "Where were you, you didn't come to see me" Andy said, "I think I died, why didn't you come to see me" Andy said, "it hurt so much, they took blood from my hand" I believe there's got to be some retribution I believe there's got to be some retribution I believe we are all the poorer for it now Visit me, why didn't you visit me Visit me, why didn't you visit me NOBODY BUT YOU I really care a lot although I look like I do not Since I was shot there's nobody but you I know I look blase, party Andy's what the papers say At dinner I'm the one who pays - for a nobody like you Nobody but you, a nobody like you Since I got shot there's nobody but you Won't you decorate my house I'll sit there quiet as a mouse You know me I like to look a lot - at nobody like you I'll hold your hand and slap my face I'll tickle you to your disgrace Won't you put me in my proper place - a nobody like you Sundays I pray a lot, I'd like to wind you up and paint your clock I want to be what I am not - for a nobody like you The bullet split my spleen and lung, the doctors said I was gone Inside I've got some shattered bone for nobody but you I'm still not sure I didn't die And if I'm dreaming I still have bad pains inside I know I'll never be a bride - to nobody like you I wish I had a stronger chin, my skin was good, my nose was thin This is no movie I'd ask to be in - with a nobody like you Nobody like you, a nobody like you, all my life - It's been nobodies like you "I sat in an ice creamshop late on night watching Andy take the hand of a less than ordinary person sitting opposite him and slap his (Andy's) own face with it. It somehow reminded me of Delmore raging in a bar, asking me to call the White House to tell them we were aware of the plot." (Taken from Lou Reed's "Between Thought and Expression") [A DREAM] It was a very cold clear fall night. I had a terrible dream. Billy Name and Brigid were playing under my staircase on the second floor about two o'clock in the morning. I woke up because Amos and Archie had started barking. That made me very angry because I wasn't feeling well and I told them. I was very cross the real me, that they just better remember what happened to Sam the Bad Cat that was left at home and got sick and went to pussy heaven. It was a very cold clear fall night. Some snowflakes were falling, gee it was so beautiful, and so I went to get my camera to take some pictures. And then I was taking the pictures but the exposure thing wasn't right and I was going to call Fred or Gerry to find out how to get it set but oh it was too late and then I remembered they were still probably at dinner and anyway I felt really bad and didn't want to talk to anybody but the snowflakes were so beautiful and real looking and I really wanted to hold them. And that's when I heard the voices from down the hall near the stairs. So I got a flashlight and I was scared and I went out into the hallway. There's been all kinds of trouble lately in the neighborhood and someone's got to bring home the bacon and anyway there were Brigid and Billy playing. And under the staircase was a little meadow sort of like the park at 23rd street where all the young kids go and play frisbee, gee that must be fun, maybe we should do an article on that in the magazine, but they'll just tell me I'm stupid and it won't sell, but I'll hold my ground this time, I mean it's my magazine isn't it? So I was thinking that as the snowflakes fell and I heard these voices having so much fun. Gee it would be so great to have some fun. So I called Billy, but either he didn't hear me or he didn't want to answer which was so strange because even if I don't like reunions I've always loved Billy. I'm so glad he's working. I mean it's different than Ondine. He keeps touring with those movies and he doesn't even pay us and the film, I mean the film's just going to disintegrate and then what. I mean he's so normal off of drugs. I just don't get it. And the I saw John Cale. And he's been looking really great. He's been coming by the office to exercise with me. Ronnie said I have a muscle but he's been really mean since he went to AA. I mean what does it mean when you give up drinking and then you're still so mean. He says I'm being lazy but I'm not, I just can't find any ideas. I mean I'm just not, let's face it, going to get any ideas up at the office. And seeing John made me think of the Velvets and I had been thinking about them when I was on St. Marks Place going to that new gallery those sweet new kids had opened, but they thought I was old, and then I saw the old Dom, the old club where we did our first shows. It was so great. And I didn't understand about that Velvet's first album. I mean, I did the cover and I was the producer and I always see it repackaged and I've never gotten a penny from it. How could that be. I should call Henry, but it was good seeing John, I did a cover for him, but I did it in black and white and he changed it to color. It would have been worth more if he_d left it my way, but you can never tell anybody anything, I've learned that. I tried calling again to Billy and John but they wouldn't recognize me it was like I wasn't there. Why won't they let me in? And then I saw Lou. I'm so mad at him. Lou Reed got married and didn't invite me. I mean is it because he thought I'd bring to many people . I don't get it. He could have at least called. I mean he's doing so great. Why doesn't he call me? I saw him at the MTV show and he was one row away and didn't even say hello. I don't get it. You know I hate Lou I really do. He won't even hire us for his videos. And I was so proud of him. I was so scared today. There was blood leaking through my shirt from those old scars from being shot. And the corset I wear to keep my insides in was hurting. And I did three sets of fifteen pushups and four sets of ten situps. But then my insides hurt and I saw drops of blood on my shirt and I remember the doctors saying I was dead. And then later they had to take blood out of my hand _cause they ran out of veins but then all this thinking was making me an old grouch and you can't do anything anyway so if they wouldn't let me play with them in my own dream I was just going to have to make up another and another and another. Gee wouldn't it just be so funny if I died in this dream before I could make another one up. And nobody called. "This is not an excerpt from Warhol's diaries. I wrote this thing to capture the love of the Andy I knew both inside and out." (Taken from Lou Reed's "Between Thought and Expression") FOREVER CHANGED Train entering the city - I lost myself and never come back Took a trip around the world and never came back Black silhouettes, crisscrossed tracks never came back Forever changed, forever changed You might think I'm frivolous, uncaring and cold You might think I'm frivolous - depends on your point of view Society And who paints and records them - the high and the low I left my all life behind me and never went back Forever changed, forever changed Got to get to the city - get a job Got to get some work to see me through My old life's disappearing from view Hong Kong - and I was changed Burma and India - and I was changed Only art to see me through Only heart to see me through My old life disappearing from my view Brigid and Pat - please see me through The whole thing quickly receding My life disappearing - disappearing from view Forever changed, forever changed I left my old life behind and was forever changed Forever changed HELLO IT'S ME Andy it's me, haven't seen you in a while I wished I talked to you more when you were alive I thought you were self-assured when you acted shy Hello it's me I really miss you, I really miss your mind I haven't heard ideas like that in such a long, long time I loved to watch you draw and watch you paint But when I saw you last I turned away When Billy Name was sick and locked up in his room You asked me for some speed, I though it was for you I'm sorry that I doubted your good heart Things always seem to end before they start Hello it's me, that was a great gallery show Your cow wallpaper and your floating silver pillows I wish I paid more attention when they laughed at you Hello it's me "Pop goes pop artist," the headline said "Is shooting a put-on, is Warhol really dead?" You get less time for stealing a car I remember thinking as I heard my own record in a bar They really hated you, now all that's changed But I have some resentments that can never be unmade You hit me where it hurt I didn't laugh Your Diaries are not a worthy epitaph Oh well now Andy - guess we've got to go I hope some way somehow you like this little show I know it's late in coming but it's the only way I know Hello it's me - goodnight Andy... Goodbye, Andy "My wife and I were in a car with Andy. It was snowing out and the driver was speeding. I asked him to slow down. Andy turned to me and in a fey, arch whiny voice said, "You wouldn't have said that a few years ago." He was being evil so I never spoke to him again." (Taken from Lou Reed's "Between Thought and Expression") http://www.bjornetjenesten.dk/teksterdk/LouReed/drella.htm

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有种肉麻的乐迷 非要听跟以前一样的东西···个么 去听Oasis好啦···伊拉终生成就的墓碑都拿到了~ 还有种自以为很有要求的乐迷 怨妇状索要想象力和突破 可是 您去翻翻自己听觉履历 您照照镜子 再摸摸腰~ 后一种乐迷还在分析 没了拍子怎样 没了这怎样 没了那怎样 想象力这么丰富 不如去听彭丽媛～ 表勉强啦 表肉麻啦 拜托～ 跟不上就蹲着吧～ 三星＝不推荐給任何没能力消化者

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