PB: Especially with your more experimental work, you've been embraced more by European audiences than American ones. Are Europeans more open-minded?

LR: Well, I have a piece called Metal Machine Music that a German avant-garde orchestra performed at the Berlin Opera House. That won't happen here in New York. It won't. Won't.

PB: That's exactly the sort of thing I was referring to. Do you feel like European audiences are more open to these avant-garde ideas?

LR: I have no idea. I really don't. I don't know why. On the other hand, you have Bush as president.

PB: The thought being, a country that elects a guy like George W. Bush isn't going to embrace Metal Machine Music.

LR: You got it. There you go. I suppose that's one way of thinking about it.

PB: Is it frustrating they embraced that work in Europe but not in your hometown?

LR: I'm glad it happens at all. I mean, I've been doing this for 30 years. I consider myself beyond lucky. I think it's amazing this record's even coming out, much less that I'm getting to do interviews for it, in today's climate. It's not a rap record. I mean, if there's something further from left field, tell me what it is.

PB: There's been so much focus on New York since September 11th. Have you noticed actual changes in the city?

LR: I prefer talking about music.

PB: Well, there's been a lot of talk about a revitalized music scene in New York, specifically with bands like the Strokes and Interpol. You're often pointed to as one of the godfathers of this scene. Does that interest you?

LR: I'm always listening to what's going on out there, whatever it is. I just don't always remember the names of things. But I'm not good with names in real life. I like this guy Antony who's on my record. He's got this band called Antony and the Johnsons. I think he's amazing. I go to every single show he does in New York.

PB: You've long maintained something of an outsider status in the music world. Has that been intentional?

LR: It just seems to always work out that way. Maybe it's because -- I don't know what it is, but it seems to be that way.

PB: Is it a comfortable position to be in?

LR: How would I know? It's the only position I know. If they make me an insider, I'll report back to you.

PB: People have often reacted to your work with a lot of passion. When it's something they don't like, it's almost like you went into their house and kicked their dog. Is it gratifying to know your work means enough to people to elicit such a strong response?

LR: I don't know. You can't be loved by everybody. I'm just happy I like it.

PB: People have a picture of Lou Reed...

LR: ...by their beds.

PB: Some may.

LR: We can only hope and pray. [Laughs]

PB: Anyhow, they have this image of you as this dark, brooding, egotistical, sunglass-and-leather-jacket-wearing, New York guy. How accurate is that portrayal?

LR: Very.

PB: Is it?

LR: Uh-huh.

PB: Do you think that persona is important to the music?

LR: I don't know. But that's one of, like, seven personas. There's a bunch of them.

PB: Do you think any or all of these are important to the music?

LR: That's something you'd have to ask someone who listens to it, as opposed to the author. Plus, I change it quite a bit. Maybe that's why I end up on the outside. People get used to one and then there's another. But hopefully, really, it's about music. Enough with persona, OK?

PB: But by your own admission, you've changed your persona several times, which seems to make it a conscious part of your art----

LR: Yeah, well, I change my socks. OK?

PB: What does that have to do----?

LR: See ya. [Hangs up]

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