
Few rock groups can claim to have broken so much new territory, and
maintain such consistent brilliance on record, as the Velvet
Underground during their brief lifespan. It was the group's lot to
be ahead of, or at least out of step with, their time. The mid- to
late '60s was an era of explosive growth and experimentation in
rock, but the Velvets' innovations -- which blended the energy of
rock with the sonic adventurism of the avant-garde, and introduced
a new degree of social realism and sexual kinkiness into rock
lyrics -- were too abrasive for the mainstream to handle. During
their time, the group experienced little commercial success; though
they were hugely appreciated by a cult audience and some critics,
the larger public treated them with indifference or, occasionally,
scorn. The Velvets' music was too important to languish in
obscurity, though; their cult only grew larger and larger in the
years following their demise, and continued to mushroom through the
years. By the 1980s, they were acknowledged not just as one of the
most important rock bands of the '60s, but one of the best of all
time, and one whose immense significance cannot be measured by
their relatively modest sales. Historians often hail the group for
their incalculable influence upon the punk and new wave of
subsequent years, and while the Velvets were undoubtedly a key
touchstone of the movements, to focus upon these elements of their
vision is to only get part of the story. The group was
uncompromising in its music and lyrics, to be sure, sometimes
espousing a bleakness and primitivism that would inspire alienated
singers and songwriters of future generations. But the band's
colorful and oft-grim soundscapes were firmly grounded in strong,
well-constructed songs that could be as humanistic and
compassionate as they were outrageous and confrontational. The
member most responsible for these qualities was guitarist, singer,
and songwriter Lou Reed, whose sing-speak vocals and gripping
narratives came to define street-savvy rock & roll. Reed loved
rock & roll from an early age, and even recorded a doo wop-type
single as a Long Island teenager in the late '50s (as a member of
the Shades). By the early '60s, he was also getting into
avant-garde jazz and serious poetry, coming under the influence of
author Delmore Schwartz while studying at Syracuse University.
After graduation, he set his sights considerably lower, churning
out tunes for exploitation rock albums as a staff songwriter for
Pickwick Records in New York City. Reed did learn some useful
things about production at Pickwick, and it was while working there
that he met John Cale, a classically trained Welshman who had moved
to America to study and perform "serious" music. Cale, who had
performed with John Cage and LaMonte Young, found himself
increasingly attracted to rock & roll; Reed, for his part, was
interested in the avant-garde as well as pop. Reed and Cale were
both interested in fusing the avant-garde with rock & roll, and
had found the ideal partners for making the vision (a very radical
one for the mid-'60s) work; their synergy would be the crucial axis
of the Velvet Underground's early work. Reed and Cale (who would
play bass, viola, and organ) would need to assemble a full band,
making tentative steps along this direction by performing together
in the Primitives (which also included experimental filmmaker Tony
Conrad and avant-garde sculptor Walter DeMaria) to promote a
bizarre Reed-penned Pickwick single ("The Ostrich"). By 1965, the
group was a quartet called the Velvet Underground, including Reed,
Cale, guitarist Sterling Morrison (an old friend of Reed's), and
drummer Angus MacLise. MacLise quit before the band's first paying
gig, claiming that accepting money for art was a sellout; the
Velvets quickly recruited drummer Maureen Tucker, a sister of one
of Morrison's friends. Even at this point, the Velvets were well on
their way to developing something quite different. Their original
material, principally penned and sung by Reed, dealt with the hard
urban realities of Manhattan, describing drug use, sadomasochism,
and decadence in cool, unapologetic detail in "Heroin," "I'm
Waiting for the Man," "Venus in Furs," and "All Tomorrow's
Parties." These were wedded to basic, hard-nosed rock riffs,
toughened by Tucker's metronome beats; the oddly tuned, rumbling
guitars; and Cale's occasional viola scrapes. It was an
uncommercial blend to say the least, but the Velvets got an
unexpected benefactor when artist and all-around pop art icon Andy
Warhol caught the band at a club around the end of 1965. Warhol
quickly assumed management of the group, incorporating them into
his mixed-media/performance art ensemble, the Exploding Plastic
Inevitable. By spring 1966, Warhol was producing their debut album.
Warhol was also responsible for embellishing the quartet with Nico,
a mysterious European model/chanteuse with a deep voice whom the
band accepted rather reluctantly, viewing her spectral presence as
rather ornamental. Reed remained the principal lead vocalist, but
Nico did sing three of the best songs on the group's debut, The
Velvet Underground & Nico, often known as "the banana album"
because of its distinctive Warhol-designed cover. Recognized today
as one of the core classic albums of rock, it featured an
extraordinarily strong set of songs, highlighted by "Heroin," "All
Tomorrow's Parties," "Venus in Furs," "I'll Be Your Mirror," "Femme
Fatale," "Black Angel's Death Song," and "Sunday Morning." The
sensational drug-and-sex items (especially "Heroin") got most of
the ink, but the more conventional numbers showed Reed to be a
songwriter capable of considerable melodicism, sensitivity, and
almost naked introspection. The album's release was not without
complications, though. First, it wasn't issued until nearly a year
after it was finished, due to record-company politics and other
factors. The group's association with Warhol and the Exploding
Plastic Inevitable had already assured them of a high (if
notorious) media profile, but the music was simply too daring to
fit onto commercial radio; "underground" rock radio was barely
getting started at this point, and in any case may well have
overlooked the record at a time when psychedelic music was
approaching its peak. The album only reached number 171 in the
charts, and that's as high as any of their LPs would get upon
original release. Those who heard it, however, were often mightily
impressed; Brian Eno once said that even though hardly anyone
bought the Velvets' records at the time they appeared, almost
everyone who did formed their own bands. A cult reputation wasn't
enough to guarantee a stable livelihood for a band in the '60s, and
by 1967 the Velvets were fighting problems within their own ranks.
Nico, never considered an essential member by the rest of the band,
left or was fired sometime during the year, going on to a
fascinating career of her own. The association with Warhol
weakened, as the artist was unable to devote as much attention to
the band as he had the previous year. Embittered by the lukewarm
reception of their album in their native New York, the Velvets
concentrated on touring cities throughout the rest of the country.
Amidst this tense atmosphere, the second album, White Light/White
Heat, was recorded in late 1967. Each of the albums the group
released while Reed led the band was an unexpected departure from
all of their other LPs. White Light/White Heat was probably the
most radical, focusing almost exclusively on their noisiest
arrangements, over-amped guitars, and most willfully abrasive
songs. The 17-minute "Sister Ray" was their most extreme (and
successful) effort in this vein. Unsurprisingly, the album failed
to catch on commercially, topping out at number 199. By the summer
of 1968, the band had a much graver problem on its hands than
commercial success (or the lack of it). A rift developed between
Reed and Cale, the most creative forces in the band and, as one
could expect, two temperamental egos. Reed presented the rest of
the band with an ultimatum, declaring that he would leave the group
unless Cale was sacked. Morrison and Tucker reluctantly sided with
Lou, and Doug Yule was recruited to take Cale's place. The group's
third album, 1969's The Velvet Underground, was an even more
radical left turn than White Light/White Heat. The volume and
violence had nearly vanished; the record featured far more
conventional rock arrangements that were sometimes so restrained it
seems as though they were making an almost deliberate attempt to
avoid waking the neighbors. Yet the sound was nonetheless effective
for that; the record contains some of Reed's most personal and
striking compositions, numbers like "Pale Blue Eyes" and "Candy
Says" ranking among his most romantic, although cuts like "What
Goes On" proved they could still rock out convincingly (though in a
less experimental fashion than they had with Cale). The approach
may have confused listeners and critics, but by this time their
label (MGM/Verve) was putting little promotional resources behind
the band anyway. Even in the absence of Cale, the Velvets were
still capable of generating compelling heat on-stage, as 1969:
Velvet Underground Live (not released until the mid-'70s) confirms.
MGM was by now in the midst of an infamous "purge" of its
supposedly drug-related rock acts, and the Velvets were setting
their sights elsewhere. Nevertheless, they recorded about an
album's worth of additional material for the label after the third
LP, although it remains unclear whether this was intended for a
fourth album or not. Many of the songs, though, were excellent,
serving as a bridge between The Velvet Underground and 1970's
Loaded; a lot of it was officially released in the 1980s and 1990s.
The beginning of the 1970s seemed to herald considerable promise
for the group, as they signed to Atlantic, but at this point the
personnel problems that had always dogged them finally became
overwhelming. Tucker had to sit out Loaded due to pregnancy,
replaced by Yule's brother Billy. Doug Yule, according to some
accounts, began angling for more power in the band. Unexpectedly,
after a lengthy residency at New York's famous Max's Kansas City
club, Reed quit the band near the end of the summer of 1970, moving
back to his parents' Long Island home for several months before
beginning his solo career, just before the release of Loaded, his
final studio album with the Velvets. Loaded was by far the group's
most conventional rock album, and the most accessible one for
mainstream listeners. "Rock and Roll" and "Sweet Jane" in
particular were two of Reed's most anthemic, jubilant tunes, and
ones that became rock standards in the '70s. But the group's power
was somewhat diluted by the absence of Tucker, and by the decision
to have Doug Yule handle some of the lead vocals. Due to Reed's
departure, though, the group couldn't capitalize on any momentum it
might have generated. Unwisely, the band decided to continue,
though Morrison and Tucker left shortly afterward. That left Doug
Yule at the helm of an act that was the Velvet Underground in name
only, and the 1973 album that was billed to the group (Squeeze) is
best forgotten, and not considered as a true Velvets release. With
Reed, Cale, and Nico establishing important solo careers of their
own, and such important figures as David Bowie, Brian Eno, and
Patti Smith making no bones about their debts to the band, the
Velvet Underground simply became more and more popular as the years
passed. In the 1980s, the original albums were reissued, along with
a couple of important collections of outtakes. Hoping to rewrite
the rules one last time, Reed, Cale, Morrison, and Tucker attempted
to defy the odds against successful rock reunions by re-forming in
the early '90s (Nico had died in 1988). A European tour, and a live
album, was completed in 1993 to mixed reviews; before a planned
American jaunt could start, Reed and Cale (who have feuded
constantly over the past few decades) fell out yet again, bringing
the reunion to a sad close. Sterling Morrison's death from illness
in 1995 seemed to permanently ice any prospect of more projects
under the Velvet Underground name, although a few of the surviving
members played together when they were inducted into the Rock and
Roll Hall of Fame. By that time, an impressive five-CD box set
(containing all four of the studio albums issued when Reed was in
the band, as well as a lot of other material) was available to
enshrine the group's legacy for the ages. Cale and Reed continued
with solo careers into the 21st century, but Reed underwent a liver
transplant in April 2013, and although he subsequently proclaimed
his strength and intention to continue performing and songwriting,
he died of end-stage liver disease at his home on Long Island in
October of that year. ~ Richie Unterberger