Photographed for SPIN by Mark Mahaney

Lou Reed does not abide. Nor should he. Not when the lifelong New Yorker exploded rock's borders with the Velvet Underground and invited cross-dressers and speed freaks onto the charts with "Walk on the Wild Side." Sure, Reed's restless muse often leads to the likes of 1973's sepulchral concept album about suicidal lovers, Berlin, and 1975's feedback opus Metal Machine Music, but he doesn't care what you think anyway. "Do I feel vindicated?" he snaps over artichoke salad at a chic West Village café, as he discusses those albums' recent critical reevaluation. "For what? I always liked Berlin." Reed's 2006 live performances of that album are out now on DVD and CD.

Testy moments aside, Reed has aged well, being feted at this year's South by Southwest and, last April, finally marrying performance artist Laurie Anderson.

Despite his iconic status, he, like mentor Andy Warhol, was never one for nostalgia and, as always, brooks no bullshit. The implication, as with so much of his work, is this: Take nothing for granted.

You're so closely associated with New York. But you haven't written explicitly about the city since --

I wrote a song for Cartier that you can download from my website. Have you heard that?

Yeah. "Power of the Heart."

I did two songs for [2007's] Nanking documentary: "Gravity" and "Safety Zone." Have you heard those?

Not "Safety Zone."

Research, research, research. It means everything. [Sighs] You were saying?

Has the fact that the city has been cleaned up made it a less interesting subject for you?

I would hope to write about more than just the city. Raymond Chandler managed to write about L.A. his whole career. Should I keep going writing about New York? Is that what I should be doing? Songwriting doesn't work that way.

How does it work?