The notion may seem rather fanciful, but it strikes me that Lou Reed is becoming increasingly like an old lover whom you might occasionally meet by chance. Sometimes, the original infatuation is revived and the relationship consummated. On other occasions there is no romantic revival, and you might even question the original attraction.
Right now, faced with Reed's ["Rock And Roll Heart,"] I'm reminded of my admiration for his achievements, but I'm wondering whether that is quite enough to provoke more than a passing enthusiasm for this record. In other words, "Rock And Roll Heart," despite its manifest flaws, could persuade me to get involved in some heavy petting but I don't think I'd go, as they...
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