The Velvet Underground's THE VELVET UNDERGROUND AND NICO album was released in 1967, the same year as the Beatles' SGT. PEPPER'S LONELY HEARTS CLUB BAND. Drug-relate folklore aside, it is the sixties true underground masterpiece.
'Sunday Morning' is a light and airy song that opens this marvel of an album. It's a melancholy musing contemplating things that have happened, things we haven't been introduced to yet, but, Lou Reed being Lou Reed, you can expect to know real soon with the greatest of detail. The vague lyrics suit perfectly the tone of the song and, at the same time, deliciously leaves out what we'll soon learn, 'early dawning, Sunday morning, it's all the streets you crossed not so long ago" being the only clue to the ensuing chaos.
'I'm Waiting For The Man' first appears to be a "cool" pre-punk song but slowly, after careful inspection, it morphs into a grotesque diary, a day or night in the life of a prostitute, and, so, suddenly we're introduced to a woman, an independent and confident but crude prostitute working the streets.
'Femme Fatale' was covered by none other than R.E.M. It isn't just a lush, fruitful song, it paints a vivid picture of the prostitute as a bitch, someone who uses men, an experienced female who not only manipulates men's weaknesses but enjoys it, teasing those she can and taking what she can from them.
'Venus In Furs' introduces us to a man, a client if you will, but a broken-hearted client sucked in by her manipulative power
(here named Severin). The song's apocalyptic tone brilliantly outlines their first sexual encounter with metaphorical detail only Lou Reed has dared since.
'Run Run Run' is another pre-punk song, suspenseful and yet hopeful in it's depiction of Severin wanting to get out of this life of prostitution, away from those she surrounds herself with, to lead a life not unlike her own but not seeped in so much sin.
'All Tomorrow's Parties' portrays Severin, after listening to her ponder her dire position in the world, contemplating which dress to wear to the next "party". Not only that party but also what to wear to the party after that and the party after that. Thus she fails miserably in wanting to get away from her downtrodden life, which we were previously lead to believe she wanted more than anything. In a rut she can't get out of, she not only continues to contribute to the downfall of others but, ultimately, to herself as well.
'Heroin' is a masterpiece of mood, signifying Severin's slow descent into drugs. Like John Lennon's 'Cold Turkey' it perfectly immobilises her to a soup of thoughts, a concoction of images mashed together to form the basis of addiction that which she suffers. So from optimism to degeneration to the brink of collapse, it's at this low point that you can't help but feel for her.
'There She Goes Again' is a Beatles-esque rock 'n' roll song that puts Severin, now a drug addict, back on the streets selling her body for what we can now only presume as drugs. What is great about this song, and which connects it with the following song, is its humour, which in itself, that we can find such tragic circumstances funny, is accountable to Lou Reed's genius. The third-person bird-like view from one of her past clients, the one whose heart she broke in 'Venus In Furs', comments on her as she walks down a street, meeting all his "friends". In the end, then, she's back to where she started.
'I'll Be Your Mirror' is a philosophical nudge-nudge-wink-wink. It is Severin telling us of the irony in us not only having listened to her story up until this point, following her downfall, but having enjoyed what is, basically, not only her life, but, if we look close enough, our own as well. No different to us all, she strove to be something, someone other than a prostitute, the way we have all strove to be something or someone other than who we are (unless you have it perfect). It masterfully turns around her own fate to that of our own, enjoying the music and reading the words but not realising in the entertainment of it all what she actually symbolises, what she is actually reflecting in all of us.
'The Black Angel's Death Song' is a God-like permission for people like Severin to start over, to be able to make bad decisions over again and to make sure, this time, not to f*ck it up. Severin, we learn, gets this choice, but, rather bitterly, having had chance after chance squandered to better herself, she now only gets to do it through death. She had her chance(s). She blew it.
'European Son', the last song, is an unsympathetic goodbye from Lou Reed to people who want to do something, who have wanted to do something all their lives but, like the everyday people they are with everyday responsibilites and problems, have never got round to doing it. They grow old having never achieved what they set out to accomplish, and, like Severin, die having never achieved what they set out to accomplish. Indeed, there's a parable in there somewhere.
Andy Warhol, who designed the album cover, also produced this album, arguably the greatest ever debut album, equal in depth to Cream's DISRAELI GEARS, Kinks' SOMETHING ELSE, Jimi Hendrix's ARE YOU EXPERIENCED? and Moby Grape's self-named album, all of which, amazingly, were released in the same year.
What strikes you about the band is that you can't define them as anything. They are not punk (athough a little pre-punk), they're too dark for straight rock and so most certainly they're not pop. They are… underground? Underground to me is people creating music that isn't deemed sellable, writing music with anything and anyone in a state of freedom away from the mainstream expectations. Well, then, they're not this either because there's a maturity in Lou Reed's song writing and musical professionalism that you simply won't find in the greatest of underground bands. They went on to write some great albums, but none anywhere near the masterpiece this is. What strikes you about this specific album is the overall meaning, the kick in the groin it serves up at the end, its own little parable that we can all do what we want, but it's up to us to do it ourselves. The songs in their own light are great but the whole they form is far, far greater. Listening to this album for the sake of a song or two, or, rather predictably, to find the drug-associated connotations (that you will find in every great album of the 60s) is simply a waste of this groundbreaking vision.
Anybody still reading this review, which can't possibly do justice to the album, anybody who doesn't have this album do yourself a favour and go out and buy it, the same with people who already own it but can't quite recall the album because you were always high when listening to it, listen to it again, read between its lines, stand in awe of it, and then enjoy, for only then will you enjoy it as much as it was intended.
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The Velvet Underground And Nico (and Andy Warhol)
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When the Velvets recorded this debut, they were best known as the protégés of Andy Warhol ... more
(who designed the sleeve), and as a grating, combustible live band. Fuelled by drummer Moe Tucker's no-nonsense wham and John Cale's howling viola, some of the...
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