Lou Reed 33: I’m So Free and Words & Music

Neither the labels nor the estate of Lou Reed immediately plundered their vaults for saleable archival material; rather, both waited several years. When “new” music did arrive, there was a similar theme, although different periods in the man’s development as a songwriter were addressed.

I’m So Free: The 1971 RCA Demos was one of those fifty-year copyright dumps that collectors trawl the file-sharing sites for every December, but then RCA put it out as a Record Store Day exclusive with an eye-catching cover and liner notes, and eventually for streaming with four more songs. These are basic acoustic guitar and vocal run-throughs, recorded professionally, of songs that would be considered for his first solo album. Every song that would appear there is auditioned here, including the leftovers from the last days of the Velvet Underground. We also get previews of later album cuts, including “Perfect Day”, “New York Telephone Conversation”, “Kill Your Sons” (with war-protest lyrics), and “She’s My Best Friend”, as well as a charming “I’m Sticking With You”. Throughout he’s immersed in each performance, laughing at any lyrical flubs, and instructing the engineer where the breaks are and when to fade.

This snapshot of the artist stepping out is particularly interesting when compared to the album that followed soon afterwards. As the first release in the projected Lou Reed Archive Series, Words & Music, May 1965 presented the contents of a demo tape he recorded then mailed himself to preserve its authenticity. Dating from before the recordings heard in the Peel Slowly And See box, he’s still firmly in the thrall of Bob Dylan, from the delivery to the fingerpicking, even on songs we’d get to know via the Velvets. John Cale helps out on several songs, including the immortal “Buttercup Song”, which was teased for decades as “Never Get Emotionally Involved With A Man, Woman, Beast Or Child”, and takes the lead vocal on “Wrap Your Troubles In Dreams”, which features that same maddening single beat on a sarinda as on the box. “Men Of Good Fortune” would be a title he’d use eventually, but not with these words, sung from the point of few of a fair maiden. The other “new” songs are of varying interest, though “Stockpile” has rocking promise. And the early version of “Pale Blue Eyes” is lovely. (As a bonus for some editions of the album, six cuts go even further back, as for as 1958 for his own doo-wop composition “Gee Whiz”, then up to 1963 or 1964 for two Dylan covers—an instrumental “Baby Let Me Follow You Down” and “Don’t Think Twice, It’s All Right” with new words, both with harmonica—plus a run through “Michael, Row The Boat Ashore” and two nondescript blues.)

Together these albums are certainly essential for collectors. For the rest of the world, they actually show a kinder, gentler Lou who just wanted to write catchy songs, rather than the grouch determined to shock and upset.

Lou Reed I’m So Free: The 1971 RCA Demos (2022)—3
Lou Reed Words & Music, May 1965 (2022)—3

Lou Reed 28: Le Bataclan

One of those gray-area releases that always seemed to turn up over the years was a one-off performance for French television that reunited the first three people to leave the Velvet Underground. Le Bataclan ‘72 spotlights Lou Reed, John Cale and Nico at a time when none of them were particularly visible, and certainly not commercially viable.

Lou had just recorded his first solo album, and had yet to fall into the Bowie circle, so he delivers some sleepy acoustic renditions of his old and new material—“Black Angel’s Death Song” is particularly striking in this format—before stepping aside to shakily strum behind the other two. Cale does three songs, two of which were never otherwise recorded, and then Nico sings a serviceable “Femme Fatale” before dragging her harmonium out to accompany her unique brand of lieder.

This can be startling if you’ve never heard it before, but basically, after the chamber pop of her Chelsea Girls album in 1967, the Teutonic titwillow started writing her own songs to the seesawing accompaniment of the aforementioned harmonium, which were then helped onto wax by Cale. And while they may seem to be simple two-finger noodlings, she still manages to sound convincing. Whatever these songs are about, they mean something to her.

For the sake of preserving history, a full minute of Nico coughing is not edited out, perhaps to excuse whatever might go wrong with “I’ll Be Your Mirror”, which is good because nothing does. She even comes back to sing lead on a jaunty rendition of “All Tomorrow’s Parties”.

Amazingly, for all the time spent tuning between songs, they never seem to find the right pitch. This is even sadly apparent on the snippets of “rehearsals” stuck on the end of the disc. Both happen to be songs from the third VU album, so perhaps this was the first Cale and Nico had heard them.

As with many bootlegs gone official, this doesn’t quite live up to the hype. Still, it’s a fascinating snapshot of Lou the troubadour, with giant hair and less attitude. YouTube clips abound, for easy sampling, teasing and/or repelling, depending on where you stand or sit.

Lou Reed, John Cale & Nico Le Bataclan ‘72 (2004)—2½

Velvet Underground 9: Peel Slowly And See

The catalog department at PolyGram was especially fond of the Velvet Underground, and just in time for their induction into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame came the box set. Peel Slowly And See attempts to present the most complete portrait possible of the band, and does a pretty good job at it. Each of their four albums are included in their entirety—the third album in its alternate “closet” mix, and Loaded, licensed from Atlantic and featuring, for the first time, the full-length takes of “Sweet Jane” and “New Age”. A few of the more important selections from VU and Another View appear in context, as do two tracks from Nico’s Chelsea Girl.

Naturally, it wouldn’t be a box set without unreleased rarities. Of immediate historical significance is the entire first disc, a distillation of a recorded rehearsal held around 1965 by Lou, Sterling and Cale. It consists of several takes each of “Venus In Furs”, “Heroin”, “Waiting For The Man” and a hootenanny-style “All Tomorrow’s Parties”, along with the tedious “Wrap Your Troubles In Dreams” (later given to Nico) and the Dylanesque “Prominent Men”. It’s not exactly fascinating, but gives an idea of what they sounded like before meeting Maureen and Andy Warhol.

Other demos scattered throughout the set include “Here She Comes Now”, “Countess From Hong Kong” and a few pre-White Light songs that sound downright folky. Seven outtakes from Loaded were a big deal (until Rhino’s expanded version of the album went even deeper), being mostly songs Lou would later rerecord on his own.

The set also includes a few live recordings, such as the experimental “Melody Laughter” and “Booker T”, both edited from longer improvisations and both of which led to “Sister Ray”. “What Goes On” comes from Doug Yule’s first appearance with the band.

While it’s not absolutely complete, Peel Slowly And See is an excellent, comprehensive overview of the band. By including all four albums, it saves the trouble of having to buy each of the albums on their own. (Unless, of course, you need all the alternate versions on the expanded Nico and Loaded CDs.) It even featured a peelable banana on the box top. Hence the name.

The Velvet Underground Peel Slowly And See (1995)—4

Velvet Underground 8: Live MCMXCIII

Following Lou and John’s collaboration on the Andy Warhol tribute, one of the more improbable reunions occurred in 1993 when the original band, including Sterling Morrison and Maureen Tucker, got together for a tour. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long enough to make it out of Europe intact. (John blamed Lou, Lou blamed everyone else, and the other two had the class to keep their mouths shut about it all.)

Thankfully for those of us who missed out, their shows at L’Olympia in Paris were recorded by Lou’s team, and released later that year as a double-disc set (and a single disc distillation, also available in a limited edition covered in tiny peelable bananas). Their set pretty much stuck to the “hits”, with Cale taking the lead on two songs generally associated with Nico, as well as “I’m Waiting For The Man” and a giddy recitation of “The Gift”. Ever the professional, he even gamely learned the parts for the later songs they’d recorded without him. Maureen gets the spotlight for her two showpieces, to raves from the crowd, but the two new songs—the jokey “Velvet Nursery Rhyme” to introduce the band and the closing “Coyote”—don’t impress. In reflection of his career renaissance, Lou dominates Sterling on guitar, and peppers several of the songs with his more current vocal inflections. Still, the band sounded pretty good. “Hey Mr. Rain”, which hadn’t been played since they recorded in 1968, and had only resurfaced in 1986, gets a lengthy workout, beginning with nine minutes of Reed and Cale playing at each other, while Moe keeps the beat going like nobody else on the planet.

Live MCMXCIII also had a video counterpart, which is perhaps the best way to experience these four older, craggier figures interacting like jazz virtuosi. They’re very tight, if occasionally stiff, and we can be happy this particular moment was captured.

Sterling Morrison died two years later, and given Lou’s hamfisted control of the band’s legacy, as well as Cale and Maureen’s exasperation with him, the band was basically, finally over. But interest in the Velvets would continue to grow, just as it had in the ‘70s and ‘80s, and there would be more product to follow.

The Velvet Underground Live MCMXCIII (1993)—3

Lou Reed 20: Songs For Drella

Lou was on a career high with New York from the year before, so a reunion with John Cale was certain to get attention. The excuse was a piece commissioned to celebrate the life of Andy Warhol, so they jumped at it. Songs For Drella got excellent reviews from the usual arty quarters, but would it translate to an album? More to the point, how would it be received as a Lou album, since Cale wasn’t exactly a sales magnet?

The album is a song cycle, mostly sung from “Andy’s” point of view. He starts out trying to escape his “Small Town”, then going to The Big City to establish an “Open House” policy. “Style It Takes” is sung by John, with sympathetic vocals from Lou at the very end, and it’s one of the more successful descriptions of Andy’s approach. The two of them battle on guitar and piano to demonstrate “Work”, wherein Lou recounts some of their conversations. “Trouble With Classicists” frames a quiet rant, and Lou follows it with the more obvious “Starlight”, wherein he delivers an intensity we wouldn’t expect from Andy. “Faces And Names” is much quieter, and we’re starting to think John understood Andy better than Lou.

Indeed, “Images” is relentless, to express the idea of repetition, but “Slip Away” (helpfully subtitled “A Warning”) demonstrates the foreboding that is explained away in “It Wasn’t Me”, where the blame is pushed to others. Something of a plot arrives in “I Believe”, a fairly frank description of Andy getting shot (an event overshadowed in the news by the same thing happening to Bobby Kennedy). This is also where Lou’s guilt over not visiting him in the hospital begins to dominate the lyrics. “Nobody But You” features Lou on acoustic for the first time in a long while, but it’s a three-chord song with Cale playing a percolating bassline on the keyboard. The abrupt ending is an excellent a setup for “A Dream”, a monologue composed by Lou and recited by John in an emulation of Andy’s infamous diaries. This piece is mesmerizing, as the longer it goes the more it perfectly expresses his perceived loneliness, particularly in his anger at Lou. The despair intensifies as the piece comes to a close, so it’s a jarring switch to “Forever Changed”, based around the metaphor of a train, one that actually appears to slow down at the song’s end. After all that, “Hello It’s Me” seems more like the kind of song that would sit by itself on an album. Some of the rhymes seem a little forced, but the closing “goodbye Andy” never fails to catch in your throat.

The idea of these two guys working together for the first time in over twenty years was very enticing, and Songs For Drella delivers very stark listening, with a few great songs amidst some real cringers. But if you’re expecting a Velvet Underground album, you’ll be disappointed. It really is an art piece, conceived as a theater presentation. It’s the sound of a guy with a guitar looking at a guy on keyboards talking about a guy they knew. Lou gets to shred here and there, but even he knows that his chops are merely window dressing to Cale’s fingers. It’s a curio, not likely to be appreciated outside the fan base. (To appeal to them a limited edition was packaged like a jewel case-sized book with a fuzzy cover. Like velvet. Get it?) At least Lou lost the mullet in the process.

Lou Reed & John Cale Songs For Drella (1990)—3½

Velvet Underground 7: VU and Another View

In an early clue to the reissue trend of the CD era, Bill Levenson at PolyGram started taking advantage of the latest remastering technology to explore some of the lost treasures in the company’s vaults. Having acquired the rights to the Verve and MGM labels, he was able to coordinate the reissues of the first three Velvet Underground albums, which had long been out of print. (Loaded was still owned by Atlantic, and had stayed in their catalog on the strength of “Sweet Jane” and “Rock & Roll”.) Glowing press items and the budget price helped push each album, but just as interesting to newcomers and old fans alike was the cool collection of unreleased tracks Levenson found in the same vaults and spruced up nicely, even adding a more contemporary snap to the drums.

While most of the tracks were recorded in the space between the third album and Loaded, the notes took pains to insist that VU was in no way a rumored lost album; it was still a testament to Lou Reed’s ability to write great songs and the band’s ability to deliver them. “I Can’t Stand It”, “Ocean” and “Lisa Says” were of course familiar to the seven people who’d bought Lou’s first solo album. These versions rock as good as any; “Lisa Says” in particular benefits from not having the “why am I so shy” interlude. Likewise, “She’s My Best Friend” and “Andy’s Chest” are run at faster paces than Lou’s sluggish solo takes. Just as revelatory is “Stephanie Says”, which would be redone on Berlin and here features a wonderful arpeggiated guitar part plus John Cale’s fittingly sympathetic viola.

Then there are the completely new tracks. “Foggy Notion” chugs along like a train (particularly on the LP version, which has a false start available nowhere else), but the more ordinary “One Of These Days” was best left aside. “Temptation Inside Your Heart” sounds like they didn’t want to bother mixing the vocal parts, but it’s still nice to hear the boys banter in the booth. And good old Moe Tucker gets the last word with the exceptionally sweet “I’m Sticking With You”.

VU must have been something of a success, as nothing else could explain how a second volume, with the phonetically clever title Another View, snuck into stores with no fanfare and the same inner sleeve that had graced its brother reissues. This one was definitely for obsessives, as the multiple takes and backing tracks are more indicative of a bootleg. While the sound is excellent and up to major-label standards, one longs to hear the lyrics that would have graced such songs as “Guess I’m Falling In Love” and “Ride Into The Sun”; at the same time, “I’m Gonna Move Right In” isn’t much more than a jam. “We’re Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together” was familiar to longtime fans, though “Ferryboat Bill” and “Coney Island Steeplechase” could have spent more time being honed before recording. The first recorded version of “Rock & Roll” is nice from a historical standpoint, but you’d be hard-pressed to decide which version of “Hey Mr. Rain” is better. Both feature John Cale, and both are stunning. If you like that sort of thing.

The Velvet Underground VU (1985)—3½
The Velvet Underground Another View (1986)—3

Velvet Underground 6: 1969 Live

In response to Lou’s growing fame as a glam solo act, their original label decided to cash in on whatever they had left, compiling a two-record set from location tapes recorded at shows in Dallas and San Francisco. Taking care to highlight Lou’s name on the (hideous) cover art, at least the album generally known as 1969 could boast Maureen Tucker on drums, unlike the bootleg-quality live album from a couple years before.

What made 1969 more interesting, and essential to fans, was the inclusion of several unreleased songs exclusive to the set. “Lisa Says” and “Ocean” had been heard by a select few on Lou’s first solo album, but here were full-fledged band versions, the former with a jaunty bridge and the latter stretched to ten fascinating minutes. “Over You” and the odd “Sweet Bonnie Brown/It’s Just Too Much” medley are curious on their own, but “We’re Gonna Have A Real Good Time Together” crackles with energy. Many of the tracks are extended to jam length, and the key discovery to latecomers came in “New Age” and “Sweet Jane”, both in their original versions before being re-jigged for Loaded. (It was this version of “Sweet Jane” that the Cowboy Junkies covered in 1989, leading to their own success and an endorsement by a genuinely flattered Uncle Lou.)

The 1969 album was eventually reissued on CD, but separated into two budget-priced volumes, with an extra track on each. A proper rehaul is long overdue, but there have been two sequels of sorts. Come the turn of the century, when the archival boom helped boost sales in a dying industry, the Velvet Underground became the latest act to find themselves with an authorized “Bootleg Series”. The inaugural — and to date, only — volume in the series was culled from various safeties of cassettes recorded by guitarist (and eventual Reed sidekick) Robert Quine with his own personal tape recorder at a dozen shows from the same era as 1969. The Quine Tapes offers three discs chock full of the Velvets playing their little hearts out, complete with Maureen singing both “After Hours” and “I’m Sticking With You”, and three renditions of “Sister Ray” ranging from 24 to 38 minutes. One key rarity is “Follow The Leader”, otherwise known only from a mid-‘70s Lou solo album.

When the third album received its 45th anniversary treatment, the deluxe package included two discs of material from the San Francisco shows mined for 1969. A year later, The Complete Matrix Tapes presented all four sets sourced from the original tapes, for the best-yet sound of these odd but enjoyable recordings. Everything was familiar to fans by now, and songs are repeated, and but none of them sound identical. Well, maybe “There She Goes Again”, but that’s allowed.

The Velvet Underground 1969: The Velvet Underground Live With Lou Reed (1974)—4
1988 CD: same as 1974, plus 2 extra tracks
The Velvet Underground Bootleg Series Volume 1: The Quine Tapes (2001)—3
The Velvet Underground The Complete Matrix Tapes (2015)—3½

Velvet Underground 5: Max’s Kansas City

While their LPs weren’t huge sellers, many people who spoke fondly of the Velvet Underground over the years did so on the basis of their live performances. But without much label interest in a professional recording of their shows, it is therefore not surprising but fitting that the few that have been released officially are essentially bootleg quality, with one exception, which will be discussed eventually.

The first live release was both historic and contractual. The band kept busy during the New York Loaded sessions by playing a residency at Max’s Kansas City. While Maureen Tucker had to sit out due to her pregnancy, Doug Yule’s kid brother Billy played drums. One show was captured on a portable cassette recorder by a friend of the band, and as chance would have it, it was also Lou Reed’s last show before quitting. Scene hanger-on Danny Fields pounced on the tape and managed to sell it to the Cotillion label, who suddenly had a defunct band on their roster.

Hence, Live At Max’s Kansas City became something of an official farewell album, touching on all aspects of the band’s work, including such surprising inclusions as “Sunday Morning” and “After Hours”, punctuated by Lou’s wistful introductions and the sound of poet rocker Jim Carroll ordering drinks between songs. It’s more historic than definitive, since the only original members were Lou and Sterling Morrison, and Doug Yule was under the impression he was in just another rock ‘n roll band instead of one of the more seminal entities in the pantheon.

Some 32 years later Rhino reissued an upgrade of the album, including all of both sets from that night in their original sequence. While the squeak of Billy Yule’s kickdrum pedal is even more pronounced in the digital format, the kid wasn’t a bad drummer, and certainly knew the tunes, even the more obscure ones. There’s even more emphasis on the slow tunes, though to this day we can’t hear an augmented chord anywhere in “Femme Fatale”, no matter what Lou says. (Stay tuned at the end of the second disc for a hilarious Atlantic promo ad for the album.) About a decade later a slightly truncated sequence of the expanded album was included in the “Re-Loaded” anniversary edition of Loaded, and was released on its own a year later for no reason except to offer it in a cardboard sleeve.

The Velvet Underground Live At Max’s Kansas City (1972)—3
2004 Deluxe Edition: same as 1972, plus 8 extra tracks
2016 expanded version: same as 2004, minus 3 tracks

Lou Reed 1: Lou Reed

After a couple of years off, Lou Reed finally emerged with his first album after leaving the Velvet Underground. His self-titled debut was about as successful as his previous albums had been (read: barely a ripple) but becomes more interesting down the road when taken as part of the whole picture.

“I Can’t Stand It” has a nice fuzzy rhythm guitar, but the immediate switch to sensitive singer-songwriter in “Going Down” is jarring, considering how badly suited his voice is for the soft arrangement. Still, it’s a nice song, even if someone should have told the guitarist to take it easy. “Walk And Talk It” borrows the riff from “Brown Sugar” for another rocker. “Lisa Says” sounds like a VU song—because it was, having been played onstage throughout 1969. In addition to building nice dynamics for the bridge, it also features one of Lou’s occasional ragtime detours. A bigger departure happens in “Berlin”, which indeed sports something of a continental flair. It’s one of his more musically sophisticated tracks, and would itself become more important in a couple of years.

“I Love You” is fairly pedestrian, but “Wild Child” revives his interest in Dylanesque wordplay and wacky street characters. One of the more complicated songs is “Love Makes You Feel”, which goes through a variety of unresolved chords before settling into the incongruous chorus. “Ride Into The Sun” begins heavily before settling into a more straightforward backing. “Ocean” was always envisioned to be a magnum opus, with the rolling percussion and chords designed to emulate the sound of the sea. It’s unknown if it ever lived up to the vision in his head.

For all his conflicting emotions about “going commercial” for Loaded, it’s clear that he got over it by the time he finished recording Lou Reed. Every song features stylish female backing vocals, and very little of the album could be considered edgy. Even the presence of Steve Howe and Rick Wakeman in the band doesn’t venture far from the mainstream. In the long run the album should only be of interest to aficionados of the man’s career, considering that seven of the songs were recorded by the Velvets, and would eventually be available in multiple versions for archival study.

Lou Reed Lou Reed (1972)—2½

Velvet Underground 4: Loaded

By the time of their contract with the Atlantic offshoot Cotillion, Lou and the band decided to make a conscious effort to achieve mass appeal. Hence, their next album was designed to be Loaded with radio-friendly hits.

And for the most part, it is. This of course is the album with both “Sweet Jane” and “Rock & Roll” on it, both songs that became staples of Classic Rock radio long before the format had been finalized.

But whether by Lou’s growing indifference or his decision to let Doug Yule sing some of the songs, it doesn’t have the edge that made the Velvet Underground so… well, edgy. “Who Loves The Sun” is a catchy opener, but here the arrangement makes it sound like the Monkees. (How could Lou have approved that fey a cappella break in the middle?) “Cool It Down” exudes a New York swagger, with Lou harmonizing with himself. The potentially epic “New Age” could have been one of his better story songs had he only sang it himself. (And indeed, he used to, with different lyrics, but we’re getting ahead of ourselves again.)

It’s been said that the album was completed without Lou’s input, and the snippet of vocal that leads into “Head Held High” would suggest that it was supposed to follow “I Found A Reason”, which ends on the same note two tracks later. Both are half-decent songs, “Head Held High” a good rocker and “I Found A Reason” nice doo-wop. In the middle is “Lonesome Cowboy Bill”, which doesn’t fit at all. “Train Round The Bend” is an excuse to write a song around a tremolo guitar, while “Oh! Sweet Nuthin’” is a long song similar to the end of side one, with a guitar sounding more like Dave Mason.

Loaded was a nice try, but ultimately it pales in comparison to their other studio albums. Besides, with Moe Tucker out on maternity leave, the drums just sound wrong when played by anyone else. Nonetheless, critics have raved over it since its release, and its legend grew when compared to live recordings from the same period. After the band’s 1995 box set included some outtakes from the sessions, Rhino (which had gained access to the LP through their association with Atlantic) unveiled a “Fully Loaded Edition” to flesh out the story. “Sweet Jane”, “Rock & Roll” and “New Age” were restored to their original lengths, alongside several alternate mixes, demos and rehearsals of the songs. It also included full band versions of such later Lou solo classics as “Satellite Of Love”, “Sad Song” and “Oh Gin”, plus further attempts at “Ocean”, “Ride Into The Sun” and other “lost” VU favorites. (Admittedly it’s nitpicking, but as we’d gotten so used to the edited version of “Sweet Jane” over the years, it would have been nice to include that somewhere in the package. After all, Lou himself has barely sung that lost verse since 1969.)

All but one of those extras were included as part of the band’s 45th Anniversary Edition series. The other three discs consisted of a promotional mono mix of the album (including the “short” versions of “Sweet Jane” and “New Age”), single mixes, an abridged selection of music from the final Max’s Kansas City show, and a fascinating if frustrating bootleg of a May 1970 Philadelphia gig. Fascinating because the band played as a trio, without Moe, though Doug played drums on three songs; frustrating because the sound is atrocious.

The Velvet Underground Loaded (1970)—3
1997 Fully Loaded Edition: same as 1970, plus 22 extra tracks
2015 Re-Loaded 45th Anniversary Edition: same as 1970, plus 65 extra tracks (and DVD)

John Cale 1: Vintage Violence

After leaving the Velvet Underground in 1968, John Cale—arguably the band’s most accomplished musician—dabbled in production and session work, before finally putting out his first solo album in 1970. Vintage Violence actually beat Loaded into the stores by about six months, but was even less of a hit.

It’s an oddity of an album, consisting mostly of straightforward rock songs based around his pounding piano, colored by country-styled electric guitar and crisp drums. The lyrics don’t always click, but the songs are so catchy the meanings don’t matter. His voice is generally double-tracked, and not always in sync. Throughout, the then-unknown Garland Jeffreys wails along in harmony. (His band Grinderswitch, or maybe it was Penguin, was tapped for the sessions, including the legendary Harvey Brooks on bass, onetime Dylan drummer Sandy Konikoff, and erstwhile Band member Stan Szelest. Co-producer was Lewis Merenstein, right between Astral Weeks and Moondance.)

“Hello, There” is the obvious choice for an opener, though it pits an incongruous verse against a rather pedestrian chorus. “Gideon’s Bible” is equally inscrutable lyrically, but the soaring chorus incorporates pedal steel and Cale’s viola for a lovely mix. Punctuated throughout by a honking harmonica with occasional vocal interjections, “Adelaide” starts out as a yearning for the city, but seems to be about a woman by the end. “Big White Cloud” creeps in with sweeping “Expecting To Fly” strings for a big production, while “Cleo” harkens back to ’50s-style pop, complete with a female backing vocal. “Please” sports a lovely melody despite the outlandish rhymes (“Won’t you help me please, I’m growing old” followed by “Won’t you help me sneeze, I’ve caught a cold”). Clearly, he’s not going for profundity.

Side two is equally all over the map; “Charlemagne” brings back the pedal steel for a more expansive sound, but it mostly lopes along the plains like a lonesome cowboy, even with the reference to his uncle being a “vicar”. “Bring It On Up” is pure chugging boogie, though you can just barely hear the viola sawing away beneath the mix. The three-song juxtaposition of the solo acoustic “Amsterdam” (only two major-seventh chords throughout), the fittingly nightmarish “Ghost Story”, and the simple “Fairweather Friend”, which Jeffreys wrote, demonstrates his refusal to be pigeonholed.

Possibly because it’s one of his more accessible albums, Vintage Violence was treated to a slight expansion come the 21st century. Liner notes give just a little more info on how and why the album came together, and exactly two bonus tracks are included: a nearly identical alternate take of “Fairweather Friend” plus six minutes of layered, droning violas called “Wall”, which becomes something of a preview of his next album.

John Cale Vintage Violence (1970)—3
2001 remastered CD: same as 1970, plus 2 extra tracks

Velvet Underground 3: The Velvet Underground

As loud as their second album was, their third went into the other direction. Perhaps to reassert themselves, having shed two of the people that made their first album so unique, they went the self-titled route. (Or maybe it was an homage to the actual title of the White Album. Who knows?)

The other big change was that John Cale was out of the band, replaced by one Doug Yule who, in addition to playing bass and piano and singing, provided a more malleable foil for Lou to push to do his bidding.

Both of these changes are apparent from the first notes heard on The Velvet Underground. “Candy Says” is a melancholy doo-wop number about a drag queen, sung by Doug, who gives the subject a sweeter delivery than Lou could. “What Goes On” brings on the drums, a good jam over three or four chords, with plenty of room for a stinging lead and a bed of Hammond organ. The lyrical twists and poetry in “Some Kinda Love” still fascinate, despite the metronomic cowbell driving it. The tender classic “Pale Blue Eyes” is something of a love song, sung by Lou, asserting himself as the voice of the band. When combined with the prayer that is “Jesus”, it’s hard to believe this is the same band from the first two albums.

Side two continues to play with our expectations. “Beginning To See The Light” jangles along through three distinct sections—typical of the “boogie” songs Lou was writing at the time—that could have been songs all their own, but combined successfully here. One of the albums lesser-known tracks, but one of the best, is “I’m Set Free”, which alternates elation with an uncomfortable sense of futility over a wonderful strum. “That’s The Story Of My Life” is very brief, stopping only long enough for a quick solo, before letting “The Murder Mystery” take over. This challenging track features all four Velvets on dueling vocals, Lou and Sterling spitting out their parts, and then Doug and Moe crooning their own. You can spend hours trying to figure out all the words and how they alternate, but nine minutes is usually enough for anyone. The jaunty “After Hours”, sung by Moe, provides a respite and a finale.

The Velvet Underground doesn’t deliver the same decadence as its predecessors, but goes to show that they were much more than simple noisemakers doing Andy Warhol’s bidding. In fact, they were even starting to sound like a real band.

Two stereo mixes of the album were issued; the one supervised by Lou and favoring his vocal and guitar was dubbed “the closet mix”. While it takes a keen ear to tell the difference, the standard version of the album does have some longer edits, particularly on “What Goes On” and “Some Kinda Love”. The 45th Anniversary Super Deluxe Edition of the album included both, plus a third, mono mix, a disc of later 1969 recordings already sampled on the VU and Another View albums in different mixes, and two discs of live recordings from the Matrix in San Francisco, some of which had been tapped for 1969 Live and The Quine Tapes, and would eventually emerge, in toto, on their own. (A two-disc Deluxe Edition offered the standard, non-“closet” mix and a disc of “highlights” from the Matrix shows, but c’mon, who’d settle for that?)

The Velvet Underground The Velvet Underground (1969)—3½
2014 Deluxe Edition: same as 1968, plus 12 extra tracks (45th Anniversary Super Deluxe Edition adds another 43 tracks)

Velvet Underground 2: White Light/White Heat

Nico was gone, and the band carried on. To make up for her absence, they turned the volume up to 11 and didn’t hardly let up at all on White Light/White Heat.

The title track is an amphetamine onslaught, all distorted with quasi-doo-wop vocals up until the big blast of a finish in two minutes fifty—just right for Top 40 radio! The full-on promise of “Waiting For The Man” and “European Son” gets multiplied here. “The Gift” provides a much different listening experience entirely, split into extreme stereo with the two-chord jam on one side, and John Cale’s recitation of Lou’s short story of the rise and fall of Waldo and Marsha in the other. Best of all, it doesn’t get stale on repeat listens. A less penetrable tale is told in “Lady Godiva’s Operation”, where the vocals and vocalizations swap over a near-baroque backing, an approach that continues on “Here She Comes Now”, the quietest song on the album.

Which isn’t saying much, because side two isn’t quiet at all. “I Heard Her Call My Name” is a mere prelude of constantly soloing guitars over a relentless beat and lyrics that almost seem like an afterthought. You can just barely hear the chord changes beneath the guitar. But it’s only a setup for “Sister Ray”. These seventeen minutes of three chords have influenced more than their share of bands, but few can match the steady metronomic beat under the battle between the organ and guitars. It’s not easy listening, and it’s either loved or hated. But if you’ve gotten this far, you’ll want more.

White Light/White Heat can be seen as the antidote to the Summer of Love, starting off a tumultuous year with an assault to the senses. It would be the last true collaboration between Reed and Cale for twenty years, which is too bad, because they work together so well here. In only two albums, this band managed to create a sound that has been so influential in the over forty years since it happened. So much so that the participants have been trying to live up to it ever since.

With impeccable timing, Lou Reed left the planet just after approving the expanded editions of the album, giving the project a publicity boost. The Deluxe Edition added the five songs featuring Cale familiar from VU and Another View, an alternate “I Heard Her Call My Name” and a never-before-heard early take of “Beginning To See The Light”. The legendary April 1967 concert at the Gymnasium is included as well, rather than appearing as part of their stillborn “Bootleg Series”. (The Super Deluxe Edition had all that plus a big book, and a third disc with mono mixes, single mixes and new vocal- and instrument-only mixes of “The Gift”.)

The Velvet Underground White Light/White Heat (1968)—4
2013 Deluxe Edition: same as 1968, plus 14 extra tracks (45th Anniversary Super Deluxe Edition adds another 10 tracks)

Velvet Underground 1: The Velvet Underground & Nico

The going cliché was that while the Velvet Underground didn’t sell many copies of their albums, everyone who did went out and formed their own band. While this has yet to be proven, it is safe to say that for the better part of two decades, all anyone knew about the band’s music came from Lou Reed albums, the occasional cover and the raves of critics.

A good deal of that changed in 1985, when PolyGram vault guru Bill Levenson pushed for the reissue of the band’s first three (long out-of-print) LPs, along with a collection of outtakes. All four albums were hyped by the usual critics (Kurt Loder going so far as to contribute liner notes to the common inner sleeve) but the overwhelming favorite was the debut, credited as always to the band plus the extra singer they’d picked up along the way.

The Velvet Underground & Nico treads a line between catchy ‘60s pop and what would eventually be called punk. Despite being hailed as a decadent band, “Sunday Morning” begins with a celeste, of all things, before an especially breathy Lou Reed vocal takes over. (It was, after all, his band.) Things get a little gritty with “I’m Waiting For The Man”, a fairly overt description of scoring dope. Nico finally shows up on “Femme Fatale”, something of a German doo-wop number, and a lovely song despite the attack on its subject. It’s a brief respite before “Venus In Furs”, featuring John Cale’s viola in full scrape over sado-masochistic references. More drugs turn up in “Run Run Run”, a perfectly snotty song just this side of melodic. Nico returns for the elegant yet foreboding “All Tomorrow’s Parties”, one of their most mesmerizing numbers.

Just in case you thought they were just another garage band, side two kicks off with the extremely blatant “Heroin”, which goes out of its way to describe the rush of the drug via the tempo and viola. But the pop returns for “There She Goes Again”, which could have been a hit single, and “I’ll Be Your Mirror”, which couldn’t have been since they let Nico sing it. The last two songs are certainly non-commercial, straight out of the art world. “The Black Angel’s Death Song” puts rapid-fire lyrics under a seesawing viola, and the band finally gets to replicate their live sound with the full-on assault of “European Son”.

As with many things he put his name to, The Velvet Underground & Nico gained most of its notoriety over the years due to Andy Warhol’s cover design and blatant production credit, emblazoned below the banana that peeled Colorforms-style. He may have designed the cover, but the actual producer was Tom Wilson, who’d recently worked with Frank Zappa after having been bounced from Bob Dylan’s sessions. Whoever was behind the desk, the overall sound comes straight from the heads and hands of the band itself, with all the grime in place. It was an astounding debut, and certainly ahead of its time.

The album was an excellent candidate for a Deluxe Edition when the Universal label started doing those, and it doesn’t disappoint. It appears in both its original stereo and mono mixes, having been recorded at a time when mono was still a common seller. Because the label considered the possibility of having hits, four tracks also appear in their single mixes, alongside five VU-related tracks from Nico’s Chelsea Girl album, released later in 1967 to even fewer sales.

Ten years later, Universal continued their “anything worth doing is worth overdoing” policy by issuing a so-called “Super Deluxe” six-disc version of the album. This time the Chelsea Girl tracks on the stereo disc have been replaced by alternate takes, so that the entire Chelsea Girl album is included as the third disc. An early acetate of working mixes is bolstered by a much-booted rehearsal excerpt (including the band playing Bo Diddley’s “Crackin’ Up” while Lou recites the lyrics of “Venus In Furs” to Nico, who also sings lead on a take of “There She Goes Again”), and a complete concert from November 1966 is spread across the fifth and sixth discs (beginning with the 28-minute “Melody Laughter”, edited down to ten minutes for the Peel Slowly And See box). Essential for fanatics, certainly, but even they would object to having to purchase half of the contents for the third or fourth time.

The Velvet Underground & Nico The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)—4½
2002 Deluxe Edition: same as 1967, plus 20 extra tracks
2012 45th Anniversary Super Deluxe Edition: same as Deluxe Edition, plus 34 extra tracks