In 1990 I was working for Anthrax as a drum tech. We were preparing for a tour and I had to go over to Big Mike’s Rehearsal in Manhattan to pick up some gear out of the band’s storage locker. It was essentially a ten by twenty foot plywood constructed closet with a padlock. The gear was stacked floor to ceiling from the door to the back wall. Of corse, the case I needed was in the back. The next few hours were spent taking every case out of the locker, pulling what I needed and re-stacking cases. Big Mike’s was a busy place. Musicians, road crews, girlfriends and record company dicks were constantly coming and going. There were people in and out of the lockers all day long. I didn’t pay much attention to it all and just keep my head down and finished my job. As I was locking up I noticed someone at the next locker struggling to move a case by himself. Most, if not all road cases are heavy and awkward to move even with two guys. I locked up and went over to lend a hand. “Need some help?” “That would be great, Thanks.” I recognized the voice before the face. I thought “what the hell is Lou Reed doin’ humping his own gear?” We spent the next 30 minutes moving cases and making small talk. He finally pulled out the guitars he was looking for and started telling me about them. “oh I love this one…” I wish I could remember more about the guitars, but, sands of time and all that. We finish up, shake hands and go on our way. Leaving that day, I remember thinking that “Lou Reed is pretty fucking cool. Moves his own gear and doesn’t act like a pretentious rock douche.” Rest in peace Lou.
Photo by RALPH GIBSON