Lou Reed: The Black Sheep of New York

THE INTERVIEW is to take place in a pub just off London's Curzon Street at around lunch-time. Lou Reed arrives late, looking papery. He's not long got out of bed, is suffering from the effects of a formidable quantity of alcohol the evening before, has a vicious-sounding chest cough and a cold, which has sent his voice down about an octave. His fingers tremble as he fumbles to take a cigarette from a packet.