In United States, Laurie Anderson creates an art for the '80s
"I met this guy," Laurie Anderson is saying, in a flat but mellifluous Midwestern voice, suggesting unexpected hospitality amid cold, wide-open spaces. "And he looked," she continues, "like he might have been a hat-check clerk at an ice rink." She is onstage, a post-punk dream clad in black satin, electric-pink socks the only splash of color. "Which, in fact, he turned out to be." Her hair is short, spiky, capping a high-cheekboned, all-American visage. An organ chord swells in the background. "And I...
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