SONGS FOR DRELLA
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
- 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
