The Untouchables 11.30.05: The Velvet Underground
Posted by Stephen Mogan on 11.30.2005
In his debut column, Stephen Mogan deconstructs the fathers (and mother) of Alternative.
There are many bands that are universally recognised as being great, some achieve superstar status, but very few reach the point where the acclaim for them is so intense, that it becomes inconceivable to question their genius. They are The Untouchables…
Cheesy, I know. But hey, you gotta have a hook!
Welcome to the very first edition of The Untouchables. My name is Steve Mogan and I'll be your host as each week we take a critical look at a band that has achieved Untouchable status. There are no pre-defined criteria for inclusion; the band doesn't have to have sold millions of albums or anything like that. The main factor I'll consider is the number of people who have an unerring devotion to the act in question (though the Rolling Stone and NME top 100 lists are a good place to start). For example, Neutral Milk Hotel (as recently featured in Ian Wright's excellent column, 'Dancing About Architecture' - plug!) would be just as legitimate a candidate as The Beatles, even though the gulf in sales and general public awareness between the two is huge. I aim to look at the bands in as unbiased a way as is possible (given that so much will have inevitably been written about them already), and focus only on the things that truly make a band great; the albums they produced and their level of influence on the acts that followed them, in an attempt to determine whether or not these bands are truly worthy of such lofty status.
So, without further ado – our first Untouchable:
The Velvet Underground
(Hey, you may as well start at the top!)
The Band:
Wow. You know what I was saying before about so much having already been written about these bands? I wasn't kidding. But here's a quick rundown for the uninitiated: The Velvet Underground was a New York band who were writing songs about S&M back when The Beatles were singing about holding each other's hands. It consisted initially of Lou Reed (vocals), John Cale (bass, viola), Mo/Maureen Tucker (drums) and Sterling Morrsion (guitar). Lou was an electric frontman; ever-so-slightly effeminate and generally very cool. Cale was a Welshman who specialised in scaring the bejeezus out of people with his viola. Tucker was famous for hammering away at her drums from a standing position. Morrsion is the only one of the group who I don't have an almost-interesting anecdote about; he played the guitar (and occasionally the bass, when Cale was doing his aforementioned bejeezus-scaring). They formed in late 1964, but it was when Andy Warhol (contemporary artist and soup-fan) became the group's manager in 1965 that they received their first major exposure. Warhol suggested that the band recruit German model Nico (who had starred in some of Warhol's films) to sing vocals on some of their songs, and so she appeared on their debut record, The Velvet Underground & Nico, and at their early shows. In 1968, after the release of their second album, White Light/White Heat, The VU (now sans Nico) parted ways with Cale, who left to do his own thing. He later produced an album for Nico. Cale’s replacement was Doug Yule, who lacked his predecessor’s viola skills but made up for this by ensuring that the band did not survive past the early-70’s (nice goin’ there, Doug). More on that later though…
The Albums: The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)
This was released in 1967 and caused controversy by having a peel-able banana on the front cover (which revealed a more-than-slightly phallic pink banana underneath its yellow skin). The cover was designed by Warhol, who also produced the album. Though it sold few copies, those who "got it" really got it. This album has probably inspired more artists than any other I can think of. Reviews were generally polarised in this way too; some loved it, some absolutely hated it. Remember, 1967 was host to the summer of love and the band's music could not be further away from the hippie movement's ethos of free love, peace and happiness for everyone if it tried (well, ok, they may have agreed on the free love bit). The VU's debut reeked of sleaze, sex and drugs and painted a seedy picture of the world that the band lived in. It was revolutionary and opened the doors to artists like David Bowie, Iggy & The Stooges and The New York Dolls to make the kind of edgy, sexually-ambiguous music that was unthinkable in the mid-60s (remember, at the time of its release, mainstream America still couldn't get enough of The Monkees. The freakin' Monkees, for crying out loud!).
The album is split fairly evenly between driving rock (I’m Waiting For The Man), gentle, haunting numbers (Sunday Morning, Venus In Furs) and the downright terrifying (The Black Angel’s Death Song). The former is an album standout, with the endless repetition of the drums and piano creating a hypnotic atmosphere that compliments Reed's sleazy lyrics. He plays the rock icon role to perfection here, managing to be both sexy and downright cool with his trademark disinterested, half-slurred delivery.
Also present is All Tomorrow's Parties , one of The VU’s most famous songs. A quiet intro builds to an excellent piano refrain that forms the main melody of the song. Great drums as well. I’m not a fan of Nico’s singing, but I can just about stand it here because the music's so good and her voice sort of works with the haunting nature of the song, which sounds so much bigger than the sum of its parts. It sounds epic, like it should be soundtracking Viking ships invading new lands or something (and these are the thoughts that listening to The Velvet Underground late at night gives to you, folks!).
Of course, I couldn’t review this album without mentioning Heroin. The title is pretty self-explanatory, and the song sees Reed singing about the rush he experiences on the drug as the rest of the band attempt to simulate it musically. The song starts slowly and speeds up rapidly, before slowing back down again and repeating the process as Reed's vocals vary from placid to frantic. Cale's viola features, and combines perfectly with the guitar to create something that's absolutely spell-binding. Best part: the viola-led freak-out towards the end that sounds like a cat being strangled, but somehow manages to remain compulsive listening.
The album’s not all positives, however. I don’t like Nico’s voice, which isn’t such a huge problem since she only features on three tracks (Venus In Furs, Femme Fatale and I’ll Be Your Mirror) and the band tends to make up for her shortcomings with their music. Still, I can’t help but wonder what the songs would sound like with Reed singing. I’ll be Your Mirror is also the only completely throwaway track on the album. 2 minutes of nothing, essentially. Finally, I’m still undecided on the penultimate track, The Black Angel’s Death Song. Viola-laden and filled with weird noises, the atmosphere of the song is oppressive and frightening. I really don't know anything else to say about it; I'm not even sure whether I like it or not. I guess the point of it is to scare the shit out of you and that's exactly what it accomplishes.
These are minor points, though, and listening to this album is still a powerful experience. I probably had my state of mind altered more by this one album than any of the contemporary albums I've heard in the last month. It’s absolutely mesmerising. This is definitely the thing that sets it apart from the band’s other releases (and everyone else’s, in fact); the band strives to create a variety of moods, often moods that are difficult to capture on record, and succeeds unquestionably. And hey, any album that makes me imagine Vikings has to be great, right?
White Light/White Heat (1968)
This was released in 1968, after the band had parted ways with both Nico and Warhol. The album was (obviously), less revolutionary than its predecessor, and also less pop-orientated. Whereas The Velvet Underground & Nico featured more accessible tracks like Sunday Morning and There She Goes Again, White Light/White Heat is filled with distortion and feedback. The album also saw the band finely honing their repetitive, unrelenting sound to the point where people thought they were using electronics (ie. drum machines) rather than traditional instruments. The opener, and title track, is simply a classic rock ‘n’ roll song. A straightforward ditty about speed, the piano and now-trademark VU riff made this their first song you could really dance to. Excellent instrument freak-out at the end as well.
Next is The Gift, a huge departure for the band. The song is an eight minute spoken-word track narrated by John Cale, set to a rhythmic yet droning backing track. The first time you listen, it’s incredible. Cale’s voice is perfect for the song, with the little intonations he puts in making it all the more intriguing (you really haven’t lived until you’ve heard a Welshman say “My god, he was like an octopus. His hands were all over the place”). The story itself is surprisingly engaging and well-written, but by nature it gets dull after the first listen. Once you’ve heard it once, you’re not really going to want to listen to it again. Though, thanks to the mixing, you can turn your left speaker off and just hear the excellent instrumental track through the right.
The other tracks on the first side of album are good without being spectacular (the self-explanatory Lady Godiva’s Operation being the weirdest, Here She Comes Now a gentle number and I Heard Her Call My Name full of squealing guitars). The other side is devoted entirely to the track Sister Ray. This is another VU classic, incorporating screeching guitars, organs and Tucker’s pounding drums into its 17 minutes. Recorded live and largely improvised, the track is probably the best thing they ever recorded. You get the feeling it could go on for days, which it probably would were it not for the limitations of vinyl. The repetition of the line “I’m searching for my mainline” over the sound of instruments being battered into oblivion is something everyone should experience for themselves.
Overall, a decent album book-ended by two of the best songs the band ever recorded. Not near the standard of their incredible debut, but a good album all the same. The guys must also be given credit for moving in a new direction after parting ways with Warhol, and also for trying something new on The Gift, which is infinitely better than any spoken word tracks Jim Morrison recorded (more on him in a later column), for all the praise he gets for that sort of thing. My one gripe is that this album does not have vast array of sounds that they managed to produce on their debut. Cale's viola does not feature as prominently, Nico's voice (as much as I dislike it) is gone, and the tracks here sound far more related to each other than on their debut, for better or worse.
The Velvet Underground
Before its release in 1969, Reed fired Cale after a difference of opinion and replaced him with Yule. The band changed direction again with this album, going for a gentler, somewhat folky sound. Candy Says is a soft ballad, unlike anything the band had attempted before at this point. That it’s such a success is testament to the abilities of Reed and co. What Goes On features a more familiar guitar and electronic organ sound. A rocky number with long instrumental periods, it’s the stand out track of the album. Some Kinda Love is a country-tinged song about sex. Some reviews claim that Lou is singing about necrophilia but I can’t really determine this one way or the other. To me it just sounds like the guy wants to have a whole lotta sex. Beginning To See The Light is the other stand-out on the album, and is as straightforward as anything the band had ever done up to this point. It's pretty much the closest these guys got to a Stones-type rock song. Reed's vocals are joyous and Yule pulls out an excellent bassline, making it impossible not to tap your foot to the damn thing within a few seconds of the song starting.
That and What Goes On aside though, there really isn’t anything to touch the first two albums here. It’s clear that the band had moved on by this point and really didn’t want to create that sort of music anymore. The album finds The VU in a much more relaxed mood and, whilst this is not necessarily a bad thing, it's difficult to get excited about the music in the same way one could when hearing, say, Heroin for the first time. The energy of the first two records is missing, so much so that its brief reappearance on Beginning To See The Light comes out of nowhere and genuinely takes the listener by surprise. Aside from this, the viola is completely missing due to Cale's absence, which takes away another dimension of the bands sound. On the plus side, Reed's voice is excellent on the album; adding a strong, raspy element on some songs. On the whole a good album, but justifiably lost in the shuffle over the years due to the inventiveness of what preceded it...
Loaded (1970)
...and the simple brilliance of what followed. Loaded was the band's final album, due to creative differences between Lou Reed and Doug Yule. Reed actually left during its recording, explaining why a lot of the songs are short and sweet, and the album as a whole is a lot more commercial than even their previous album. Yule took over the band after Reed left, carrying on until 1973 and releasing one more album without Reed, Squeeze, which is not considered to be a true VU album and so won't be covered here (also, it was awful). Additionally, Mo Tucker was pregnant during the recording of the album so drumming duties were also handled by Yule (he's credited with playing 6 instruments one one track!). This explains why the drums sound different on this record (ie. not like somebody smacking a barrel with a plank of wood).
Despite all that, the album is great. Again, it can't match the first two for innovation, but this time around the band seemed to realise that by accentuating the catchy qualities of previous tracks like Beginning To See The Light they may actually sell a couple of records. Sure, it was aimed squarely at radio play, but that doesn't automatically make it bad. Loaded is an album full of straight-ahead rock songs of various styles that works excellently, even in comparison with the greatness that came before it. It also features two of The VU's best ever songs, Sweet Jane and Rock 'n' Roll, both of which became a staple of Lou Reed's later solo gigs and are generally considered by fans to be up there with the classics from the first album. Cool It Down shows that the band still had an edge, whilst Head Held High is criminally underrated. An ecstatic celebration of being alive, it's the song that pretty much should have soundtracked the ending to every cheesy 80's high-school movie (in the best possible way of course).
Musically, the album veers in a different direction to any of others, incorporating new instruments and sounding, well, not very much like The Velvet Underground. Not The VU you read about in cool music magazines anyway. But this doesn't matter, with music this catchy and infectious who cares who was on the drums, whether Lou liked the album or not or who played the instruments? Just enjoy it. A great album, highly-underrated and pushing White Light/White Heat hard as their second-best.
Their Influence:
Christ, they influenced everybody. The VU pretty much single-handedly created alternative rock. David Bowie’s Queen Bitch (from his Hunky Dory album) is essentially one of their songs with a shiny lick of paint (the man himself admitted as much at the time). The Dandy Warhols pretty much based their entire career on the band. Oasis completely lifted their sound for the track Mucky Fingers on their latest album (proving, once and for all, that the Oasis boys don’t simply rip-off every great British band of the 60’s. They know how to steal from Americans too). Bizarrely, Welsh bands also seem to have an affinity with The VU’S sound (Reed’s vocal style particularly). Clearly there’s something in the water; check out Super Furry Animals and Gorky’s Zygotic Mynci paying homage to Reed and co. on the tracks Guacamole and Mow The Lawn, respectively.
Each of these acts sounds musically similar to The VU, but in terms of content (the sleazy imagery, the seedy subject matter) they influenced so many more. The band opened up people’s minds to what music could represent, regardless of what it sounded like. The Velvet Underground made the first dent in the fence that punk later kicked in, so to speak.
The Verdict:
What else was it gonna be? An excellent body of recorded work, combined with the most far-reaching influence of any band I'll cover in this column equals justified Untouchable position for The Velvet Underground. Mainly for their ground-breaking first couple of albums, certainly for their ability to adapt to new musical styles and definitely because music today wouldn't sound the same without them. None of them were perfect but, taken as a whole, the four albums covered in this column stand up against the back catalogues of any band of the last 40 years.
What Now?
Lou Reed still tours, lurched over his mic and mumbling lyrics in a way that makes Brian Wilson’s recent efforts look positively energetic. John Cale is making a comeback at the grand old age of 63, sounding like the Kings of Leon's hard-drinking uncle. Sterling Morrison unfortunately passed away in 1995. Doug Yule is (cliché-alert) big in Japan and as for Mo Tucker, I’m not sure what she’s doing but her website is called the Taj Moe Hal, which is possibly the greatest pun I've ever heard.
Well, that's it for this week! Let me know what you thought by sending me an email. Feedback is always appreciated, especially if you have any suggestions for bands I could cover in the coming weeks.
