Sidste år døde Lou Reed. Og vi mistede en af de store i rocken. Og i disse dage for 25 år siden – nærmere bestemt d. 10 januar 1989 – udkom Reeds femtende album New York. Et album, der genrejste kunstnere efter en række plader, der havd skuffet kritikere og publikum. Reed fandt tilbage til rockens elementarpartikler: “You can’t beat guitars bas drum” (Reed egne noter på pladens bagside). Elementær rock’n roll, der skilte sig ud fra tidens musik, men lagde en god bund for Reed enkle tekster om livet i storbyen New York . Med denne plade lykkedes det for alvor for Reed at realisere sit eget ideal for en plade: en voksen rock’n rolle plade. Han anbefaler, at man lytter til den som ‘vr den tænkt som en bog eller en film’. Selv rockens svar på Gravpot Robert Christgau må overgive sig (med forbehold) og give en topkarakter i sin forbrugerguide: “Protesting, elegizing, carping, waxing sarcastic, forcing jokes, stating facts, garbling what he just read in the Times, free-associating to doomsday, Lou carries on a New York conversation–all that’s missing is a disquisition on real estate. I don’t always find his politics especially smart–though I have no problem with his grousing about Jesse’s Jewish problem, I wish he’d called the man on Hymietown rather than Arafat. But that’s not really the point, is it? As usual, the pleasure of the lyrics is mostly tone and delivery–plus the impulse they validate, their affirmation that you can write songs about this stuff. Plus, right, the music. Which is, right, the most Velvets of his entire solo career. And which doesn’t, wrong, sound like the Velvets. Not even as much as Galaxie 500. Just bass, drums, and two (simple) guitars.”