Lead guitarist for seminal art/punk
in the 1970s
and early 80s. Currently has his own band
(called, oddly enough, The Richard Lloyd Band) and is living fairly quietly, doing occasional session work and raising a son in New York City
He was the subject of a famous series of Godlis
photographs in 1978
. There are a dozen or so pictures of him, pale and thin at Beth Israel Hospital
, being treated for a blood infection from shooting up
. Pictures of him lighting a cigarette
next to a NO SMOKING - OXYGEN TANK IN USE sign, sitting in a dimly lit hallway, slumped in bed with a Variety
in his lap. They are stunningly beautiful. Lloyd's in his late twenties but could pass for ten years younger. With his somber face and regulation white gown, he looks angelic
, almost like a religious painting come to life.
He hasn't aged well. Today, he looks ten years older than he should, and his solo music is wanky, irritating guitar-nerd rawk
. He waxes rhapsodic over yoga
and alchemical principles and hypnosis
. I've tried to listen to his solo album all the way through, but I just can't - I've realized that I should just stick to Marquee Moon
, because that beautiful
Richard Lloyd is as dead as Television.
Still, I'd like to meet him someday. Maybe even take a guitar
lesson from him, if I ever have a spare hundred bucks or so lying around. Most of all, I'm curious to see if behind the craggy face and overblown guitar solos is that same pretty dark-eyed boy with a halo
and a fuck you
at the ready.