The Velvet Underground
– Or, Perils of Selling Avant Garde as Pop
William Sundwick
Lou Reed was a middle-class Jewish kid growing up on 1950s
Long Island. He was always interested in pop music – especially doo wop -- and taught himself to play
guitar from the radio. In
high school he apparently experimented with illegal drugs; and, he became
sullen, depressed, and anti-social, perhaps due to the notorious gangs of his
school. Nevertheless, according to his sister, he was a “genius,” and was sent
off to Syracuse University in 1960, where he was mentored by poet Delmore
Schwartz, who taught creative writing there.
At Syracuse, he also became acquainted with a classically-trained
Welsh experimental musician, John Cale, and another guitar player, Sterling
Morrison. They jammed together, forming a band which they informally named “The
Primitives.” By graduation in 1964, they were playing gigs in New York City
(East Village), and had changed their name to “The Velvet Underground” (after a
popular college novel about a secret sexual society).
Another acquaintance had a younger sister who really loved
drums! Maureen Tucker, known as “Mo,” was invited to join the band --over
Cale’s objections to having a female drummer.
This was the origin of the “Velvets.” They lasted until 1973,
but in their relatively brief lifespan they became one of the most influential
rock bands in the history of the art form, says Rolling Stone and other
critics. Yet, they were never commercially
successful, measured by the sales numbers or charts of the day.
Why? Because you can’t sell experimental, avant garde art to
the masses. And, from the outset, this was clearly the preferred path for Reed
and Cale.
Yet, their raw and experimental repertoire of social realism
was what gave them their first break – Andy Warhol heard them perform in the
East Village, and recruited them as the house band for his studio, called the
“Factory,” and his upcoming planned tour, “The Exploding Plastic Inevitable.” (For
an immersive experience, visit the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh. It dedicates
an entire soundproof room on the third floor to EPI!)
Warhol also brought a German chanteuse, Nico, into the mix. She
added her name to their debut album -- “The Velvet Underground and Nico” – since
she contributed lead vocals on three tracks (and backup vocals on a fourth). Nico
severed her connections with the band after the release of that one album, to
pursue her own career.
The artistic thrust of that first album was dominated by
Cale’s fascination with avant garde music. He played an electrically amplified viola
on many tracks, and is credited with its creative direction, generally called “producing”
in the record business, despite Warhol’s official title as “producer.” The
songs, however, were written by Reed, showing his fascination with morbid
sexuality and the underworld of drugs and transsexual behavior (“drag queens” in
those days). Sterling Morrison was the main force keeping the tracks sounding
like rock ‘n roll, aided by Mo Tucker and her simple, yet exotic, drum riffs.
Highlights from that first album are:
- The opening track, “Sunday Morning,” about paranoia (common in illicit drug users) –Reed was vocal front man, with Nico doing backup.
- “Venus in Furs,” based on the novel of the same name by Leopold von Sacher-Masoch, about what we now know as BDSM (he lent his name to the sexual deviation “masochism”), lots of John Cale and Mo Tucker exotica in this one.
- “All Tomorrow’s Parties,” a Nico masterpiece and Andy Warhol’s favorite track on the entire album.
- And the final track, “European Son,” dedicated to Reed’s mentor Delmore Schwartz, who died before the album was released.
Also on
this album was the very Lou Reedian “Heroin” – anticipating
one of Reed’s recurring themes, even in his later solo career, nihilism! I’ve
always felt that Heroin is the best track on the album to show the synergy between
Reed’s nihilistic lyrics, Cale’s screeching viola, and Tucker’s primitive,
pulsating drum kit. It also features a Lou Reed invention – “ostrich” guitar
tuning, where all strings are tuned to the same note. This early Lou Reed song,
with the ostrich tuning, had impressed Cale as unique enough to spur their
collaboration. Reed had written the song before the idea of the band emerged.
If you listen to more than one or two of the songs linked above,
you’ll understand why the album was never commercially successful. It was much
too dark, much too avant garde, too naughty for the teenagers and young adults who
were buying records in the sixties. But, as experimental musician Brian Eno
famously remarked, “everyone who bought one of those 30,000 copies started a
band.” It was later lauded as one of the most influential rock albums ever. It
was bought by artists … not by kids who wanted dance music!
For their second album, White
Light/White Heat, it was time to try something different. Cale continued to
exert creative direction. Reed had fired Warhol, despite his having an
extremely laissez-faire attitude, which Reed appreciated. His style left the
musicians to experiment as they wished, but Reed may have felt Warhol hampered
the band’s potential commercial success.
The sound changed in White
Light. Instead of Cale’s electric viola, more tracks featured Mo Tucker and
her primal beat, and much more guitar droning. Tracks tended to be very long,
and very loud. Blowing out the amps substituted for Cale’s more exotic forays. The
recording
quality was intentionally distorted, unpolished and raw, compared to the
first album. It was “anti-beauty,” according to one reviewer – paving the way
for later proto-punk, and punk, bands.
Cale continued with the band, but became more cynical. When the
recording sessions, and a round of live performances, were finished, he left – to produce
Iggy Pop’s band, The
Stooges. He and Reed were often at loggerheads, creatively. But, while the
sound may have been more conventional, Reed’s songs were still way out there –
like the homosexual orgy in “Sister Ray,” which
relates a story of mass drug use, and a sailor being shot and killed, left to
bleed on the carpet. Or, the frenetic world of meth addicts described in the title track.
The amazing spoken word recording, “The Gift”, features Cale’s
Welsh brogue sounding rather charming as he reads a short story, to heavy rock
background.
Also included in the deluxe boxed set is a vintage recording
jam which is ALL Reed, “Temptation
Inside Your Heart” – a sign of things to come in his solo career.
White Light/White Heat,
alas, was no more successful than The
Velvet Underground & Nico. Verve Records dropped the band, along with
many others thought to “glorify” use of illegal drugs. Reed believed that the
real reason was: they just didn’t sell.
Even nearly fifty years later, when HBO produced its series “Vinyl” in 2015,
with music producer Mick Jagger, a “White
Light/White Heat” cover was played, by a band portraying a fictitious
Velvet Underground gig, shown in flashback. It was the high point of episode 5
… but, HBO would not renew for a second season!
New record labels were found, and The Velvet Underground soldiered
on for two more studio albums and a live album, then the posthumously released VU Another View. Now Lou Reed was in total
control, with his backup stalwarts Morrison and Tucker. Doug Yule was added. Reed
was convinced he needed to move more into the pop mainstream, his song lyrics would
now be only slightly unbalanced, and the sound mostly inoffensive. An example
from 1970’s Loaded album is “Rock and Roll”. The
difference from the first two albums is stark. Reed managed to return to his
rock ‘n roll roots, and the lyrics are generally happy, upbeat. The darker side
would return later, in his solo career.
That solo career lasted nearly 40 years, until his death. And,
it finally propelled him to the commercial success he had always sought, but
never achieved, with the Velvets. It began in 1972, with his album Transformer, produced by disciple David Bowie. “Walk on the Wild Side”
did the trick, and without toning down the content of his lyrics an iota!
Perhaps the times had finally caught up with Lou Reed.
He died in 2013, after a liver transplant, but managed to
outlive Andy Warhol, Nico, and Sterling Morrison. Cale and Mo Tucker are still
alive (but retired from music?). Rolling Stone’s obit
for Lou Reed ranks The Velvet Underground
& Nico on an artistic par with two other contemporary classics: the
Beatles’ Sgt. Peppers … and Bob
Dylan’s Blonde on Blonde. And,
summarizing the oevre of the Velvets, calls them “the most influential American
rock band of all time.”
It’s been fifty years since the release of The Velvet Underground & Nico LP. I
purchased my copy in Paris, during my college study abroad. It was my favorite on
my little portable turntable in the dorm room at L’Universite de Strasbourg. Although, the Rolling Stones’ Their Satanic Majesty’s Request was a
close second. Fifty years … that’s a long time, even in a 70-year-old’s life. I’ve
always been drawn to the avant garde. Despite my rather conventional life, it symbolizes
an excitement never quite attainable, for fear of reaching too far outside my
comfort zone. Artists CAN get there, however!
That twenty-year-old’s spirit of adventure is still approachable,
if only by listening to Velvet Underground songs on my iPod … while working out
at the gym!
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