Loaded -- The Velvet Underground -- Review

Loaded (1970)

Rating: 14

"Somethin's got a hold on me / And I don't know what"

Best Song: New Age or Sweet Jane

Worst Song: Train 'Round the Bend

      I'm not even gonna try and hide my hand on this one -- as far as pop albums go, I insist there aren't many much better than this. I know it has its haters, and the majority just hold it up as a "pretty good" addition to the Velvets' legacy, and I know it makes me super uncool, but I can't help it -- I think this gigantic cheesy poppy sell-out is their best work, and it's easily one of my favorite albums of all time. As far as smile-inducing music goes, I really don't think one can beat Loaded. 

      For the uninitiated, the legend goes that after the paltry sales of The Velvet Underground, the band's record company advised Lou to write an album "loaded with hits". Obviously, knowing how cynical Reed can be, it should come as no surprise that quite a few of these tracks come off as parodies of 60s pop: "I Found a Reason" is a ridiculously schmaltzy doo-wop ballad complete with a dramatic spoken-word confession of love from Reed (when he begins reciting with that deadpan "Honey...", it's everything I can do to keep from cracking up), and the opening "Who Loves the Sun" is an exceedingly cheery, Turtles-or-Zombies-esque pop song complete with goofy wordless backing vocals and a completely accessible melody. Nevertheless, as ironic and sly as these tracks may be, they're still completely brilliant from a songwriting perspective. They're silly pop songs, sure, but they're GREAT silly pop songs, full of brilliant little details. Take, for example, the bridge of the latter, where the track randomly derails into an acoustic-led vocal harmony breakdown and then shuffles back into the chorus just as fast as it left it. Or the outro of "I Found a Reason", where the mood suddenly turns from romantic to completely desperate, with the almost-haunting mantra of "You better come, COME COME, COME to me" gradually fading the tune out. The entire album is full of incredibly effective and memorable little moments like these, and these aren't even the very best songs!

      "Sweet Jane" definitely is, though, but you probably already know that one. On the off chance you don't, then by god, you should -- it perfectly captures Reed's magical ability to craft songs that are both rambling and anthemic, and it's one of his very best. It just keeps growing and growing and building and building, culminating in that synth-led climax (a synth-led climax! in 1970!!) with Doug and Lou shouting as triumphant a cry of "LA LA LA LA LA LA LA LA!" as I've ever heard, followed by some more joyous chants of the title. It's a classic, dammit. And not much worse is the breezy California soft-rock of "Rock & Roll", another of the band's most famous tracks. It deserves the status, too, with its frenzied mid-section, fun lyrics, and memorable laid-back guitar riffs. Equally triumphant and joyous is the pounding "Head Held High", cleverly kicked off by a soothing choral intro. This first impression is quickly offset by a startling drum fill, followed by some of Lou's most rowdy, energetic vocal work ever. I don't know what else there is to say -- just like the other two anthems I've mentioned, it's got a passionate buildup, an incredibly catchy melody, and an epic climax featuring the band chanting the title for all its worth. Silly, throwaway pop formula? I guess so, man, but there aren't many other songs in the world that give me as much joy as these do.

      And besides, it's not like the album is nothing but upbeat soft-rock anthems -- far from it! You've got some fun, catchy country-rock (the fantastic "Cool It Down", the less-fantastic-but-still-entertaining "Lonesome Cowboy Bill"), some groovy feedback-driven experimentation ("Train 'Round the Bend", which admittedly is kinda weak, but is more or less saved by the aforementioned production experiments), and a 7-minute proto-power-ballad with an extended outro full of guitar heroics ("Oh, Sweet Nuthin'", which makes for a fantastically anthemic closer along the lines of "Hey Jude" or "You Can't Always Get What You Want""). And the very best song of all just might be "New Age", a song that strives for the late-night mood of The Velvet Underground and manages to do it even more effectively. From the tepid opening of "Can I have your autograph?" all the way up to the explosive, chillbump-inducing proclamations that it's "The beginning of a new age", I can't think of a much better classic rock ballad than this one.

      Of course, it's pretty obvious that Loaded has next-to-nothing to do with the Velvet Underground's legacy to this point, and if you're a jaded indie guy who worships at the altar of White Light/White Heat and Nico, then there's a decent chance this album just might disgust you. It's super soft, super happy, and virtually inoffensive -- virtually everything the band in its earlier incarnation was trying to rebel against. But if you go into it with an open mind, and understand that good pop music is just as valid an artistic medium as noisy, droning experimentation, then I don't see how one couldn't enjoy the living daylights out of this.

The Velvet Underground -- The Velvet Underground -- Review

The Velvet Underground (1969)

Rating: 12

"Help me in my weakness, 'cause I've fallen out of grace"

Best Song: Beginning to See the Light

Worst Song: Some Kinda Love

       Well, after White Light/White Heat, John Cale decided to leave. I can't seem to find out a definite reason why (most think that it was due to tension between him and Reed), but whatever the case -- he's out, and Doug Yule is in. Yule, a veteran of some long-forgotten contemporary of the band called The Grass Menagerie, brought along with him something of a gentle, folky sensibility. This, coupled with the fact that all of the band's amps and pedals had been stolen, led to the group deciding to take their next album in a direction resembling the softer songs from their previous two records -- tracks like "Here She Comes Now" and "Sunday Morning". This ended up giving the whole affair something of a smoky, late-night/morning-after vibe that I've never really encountered on any other album. This general mood is absolutely wonderful and incredibly unique -- had they combined this mood with some extremely strong songwriting, the band could've made the strongest album of their career...emphasis on the "could've".
       Instead they simply made one of the better albums of their career, one that is indeed good, but also one that falls juuust short of all-time greatness. There's just too much flat-out filler here, such as the meandering, countryish "Some Kinda Love". The lyrics are mildly amusing, but the twanging guitars get a bit repetitive, the vocal melody doesn't really...erm...exist, and the whole thing just screams "Unneccessary!" in my ears. Yawn.
       There's also the issue of over-repetition that rears its ugly head every so often. Of course, a low-key folk-rock album can only have so much diversity, but the problem with repetition isn't only found in the style itself...it's also in the melodies. "Candy Says" and "Jesus", while both absolutely beautiful, heart-wrenching ballads, sound very similar, and "That's the Story of My Life" is nothing more than an silly acoustic retake of the uplifting, far superior "Beginning to See the Light".
       That's not to say that the entire album is nothing more than a bunch of sleepy folk songs built on dreamy arpeggiated guitars and soothing vocals, though; there are a number of exceptions to this general rule. "What Goes On" and the aforementioned "Beginning to See the Light" actually come close to being what you might call rockers! Anthemic vocals, powerful (but still subtle) multi-tracked guitar strums, and, in the case of "What Goes On", some wonderfully uplifting organ work help distance these tracks from the insomnia-aiding calm of the album's other songs. In addition to providing needed diversity, they're also simply flat-out wonderful songs. "I'm Beginning" is a particularly strong track; Lou's vocal melody is great, the layered acoustic riffage provides a wonderful backing, and the lengthy coda where the band keeps singing "How does it feeeeeel to be looooooooooved?" in unison is simply magical, one of the most memorable highlights of the whole VU catalog.
       Another song that's rather different than the bulk of the album's material is the simply bizarre "Murder Mystery", a 10-minute (!), multi-part song suite filled with deadpan spoken-word recitations, eerie keyboard lines, bashing drums, and some nice singing from Lou, Yule, and even drummer Maureen Tucker (who, despite being barely used by the band, has a pleasant child-like quality to her voice). The song eventually turns into something completely different around the 7-minute mark as it completely drops out and a strangely chipper piano line comes in. The brief moment of levity is then spoiled by a load of disturbing lyrics, dissonant feedback, and what sounds like a small army of out-of-tune pianos attacking the listener...and then it ends. Is it cool? Yeah, sure. Does it need to go on for 10 minutes? Nah, but it holds its length better than you might expect, and it's a welcome addition to the album.
       "The Murder Mystery"'s finish heralds the start of the album's final tune, the wonderfully charming "After Hours" (not to be confused with Martin Scorcese's criminally underrated film). It's nothing more than a simple acoustic show-tune sung by Maureen, but it works wonderfully as a closer to the whole experience. There are also a number of other ballads, including the magical "Pale Blue Eyes" and the uplifting, empowering "I'm Set Free", but that basic description pretty much sums up the album. No, it's not their best, but it's quite good, and the mood it creates is completely unique and very special. Don't get it first, but get it soon afterwards.

The Velvet Underground -- White Light/White Heat -- Review

 

White Light/White Heat (1968)

Rating: 10

"Aw, you shouldn't do that! Don't you know you'll stain the carpet?"

Best Song: White Light/White Heat

Worst Song: The Gift

       Is it wrong of me to say that I enjoy this one more than the debut? ...well, obviously it's not *wrong*, it's only a matter of personal opinion, but still -- 9 times out of 10 I would much rather listen to this than Nico.
       ....which is pretty ironic, since this one is FAR more purposely ugly and nihilistic than its predecessor. The band took the feedback squalls and avant-garde nuttiness of "The Black Angel's Death Song" and "European Son" and basically extended them into an entire album. No catchy guitar-rockers, no happy pop songs, no stately ballads...pretty much everything on here is dedicated to frightening and, to some degree, irritating the listener in ever way imaginable. And yet it's an accepted classic, and a completely enjoyable listen?
       One song, "The Gift", even goes so far as to have no melody at all -- it's just a short story being read aloud by Cale while the band mindlessly jams along behind him. It would be hard to even call it a "song", but for whatever reason it...kinda works. Now don't get me wrong, it's far and away the worst track on the album, but there's still SOMETHING about the song that attracts me to it. Those feedback squeals combined with Cale's hilarious accent make the song work juuuust enough to get by. It also helps that the story itself, written by Lou back in his college days, is quite entertaining. It's essentially a tale of two lovers who are separated, and the lengths that the guy in the relationship, Waldo Jeffers, is willing to go to in order to be reunited with his girlfriend...but of course, everything goes completely awry in an absolutely bizarre, darkly comedic fashion. Note to self and all blog-readers -- packaging and mailing yourself to a loved one, while a perfectly clever idea, isn't the smartest thing to do.
       The title track is a major classic, with the band returning to that incredibly effective *chank*chank*chank*chank* groove of songs like "I'm Waiting for the Man", albeit in an even harsher, sloppier way. The melody is brilliant (those backing vocal chants of "White light!" and "White heat!" are sooo catchy to me), the groove is irresistible, and that throbbing bass solo at the very end is just as disorienting and mind-blowing as I'm sure the band intended it to be.
       "Here She Comes Now" is a wonderful respite from the noise of the rest album, a gentle ballad that while short, works wonderfully in context. The melody is also very nice, and the low-key atmosphere is rather addictive, much like the ballads off of the next album. Even tastier is "Lady Godiva's Operation", a song that rises from the ashes of "The Gift". As the final crushing guitar notes fade out from that track, "Lady Godiva" kicks in to wonderful effect -- the seductive, very full sound of the song works wonderfully to take the listener out of the disjointedness of "The Gift". The song proceeds along this path as Cale sings a wonderfully seductive vocal melody over the dangerous-sounding (yet somehow slightly beautiful) backing track...until Lou randomly comes in at the end with an assortment of sound effects and jarring spoken-word declarations. The song then essentially collapses under its own weight after a minute of this chaos, to delightful effect.
       But all of this fades into the distance when we finally approach the album's final, most infamous track...I am speaking, of course, of the 17-minute "Sister Ray". As you probably already know, the song is nothing more than the band grinding on the same primitive riff over and over and over again for nearly 20 minutes. It's definitely jarring, and it's definitely a groundbreaking piece of music...but is it any good?
       Surprisingly, the answer is a rousing yes. It definitely is. Although I must agree with what many others have said before me -- it would make a BRILLIANT 8 or 9-minute track, whereas the 17-minute version is slight overkill. Nevertheless, the repetition of the same musical phrase over and over again gives the song an indisputably anthemic quality, and that basic guitar riff is SO pleasing on a near-primal level that it becomes hard to resist. If you were to travel back in time to the Middle Ages and explain the genre of music known as "rock and roll" to someone, I imagine that they would picture it as something like "Sister Ray". It's the one of the few 60s songs I've heard that still sounds legitimately frightening to this day. The only other possible contender for this title would be Zeppelin's "Dazed and Confused", but even that has a level of professionalism and studio polish -- this features nothing along those lines AT ALL.
       Hell, the band's producer notoriously walked out of the studio halfway through the recording of "Sister Ray", refusing to participate in the creation of what he thought was sheer aural torture. The levels of distortion on the track approach levels of white noise from time to time (in fact, White Noise/White Heat would've been a pretty great name for the album), and while I prefer my bouts of sheer noise to be momentary rather than lengthy (and there are more than a couple of minutes of the song's running time where the noise reaches that level of extremity), the track still cooks on a general level. THIS, ladies and gents, is pure proto-punk -- one of the very first examples of rock and roll boiled down to its rawest elements. This is rock music dragged by the knuckles all the way back to its purest essence, and while you may not be able to stand it, I find it quite interesting and even pleasing, on some primal level or another.
       Y'know, you might as well just go ahead and use those last few sentences to describe the entire album. This is a band searching desperately to find the primordial ooze that rock'n'roll seeped out of, and then perverting and mangling that ooze into what must have been a ridiculously frightening piece of work when it came out. And you know what....it's still a bit disconcerting now.
       Yeah, now. Now!!!!! In the time of derivative scream bands, ridiculously edgy bands like, uh, I dunno, Death Grips, and loads of other artists making music for the sheer purpose of offending people's sensibilities: morally, musically, and otherwise -- this thing is still dangerous-sounding. It still shocks you when you first turn it on. There's something to be said about that -- I don't even think you could say something like that about The Velvet Underground and Nico. That's some seriously notable staying power.
       The sheer musical elements here still aren't quite enough for me to give the album anything higher than an 11, but everyone needs to give this a listen. And yes, I truly mean EVERYONE. I give it my highest recommendation...even if my score might not say as much. This is an album truly like no other.

Buy it here: White Light/White Heat

Squeeze -- The Velvet Underground -- Review

Squeeze (1973)

Rating: 9

"Did I make you happy? Did I make you cry?"

Best Song: Little Jack

Worst Song: Dopey Joe

       After the commercial failure of Loaded, Lou, Sterling, and Maureen Tucker all left the band, leaving poor Doug Yule as the band's only remaining member. Not about to give up his last chance at commercial success, Yule got together with Deep Purple drummer Ian Paice and recorded a series of songs consisting of nothing more than Doug's voice, whatever instrument Doug was playing at the time, and Paice's drums. A saxophonist and some female vocalists were eventually brought in as an attempt to expand the sound, but for all intents and purposes, Squeeze is nothing more than a Doug Yule solo album. He sings lead, he sings harmony with himself (even attempting to pull off a decent Lou impersonation at times), he plays nearly every instrument, and he even produced the LP himself. The end result was a complete failure, both critically and commercially, leading most to pronounce the record one of the absolute worst of all time.
       So what does it actually sound like? Well, it's nothing more than 35 minutes of simple, two-to-three minute pop songs, just like the more flippant numbers found on Loaded. And I like it! I mean, it's hardly among the greatest albums ever, but it's not like Yule's musical talents suddenly disappeared. The best tracks here are easily the equal of "Who Loves the Sun", "Lonesome Cowboy Bill", and their ilk. Of course, those who think of Loaded as a terrible "sell-out" of an album would probably hate this, but me? Hey, I dig it. Fans of early-70s pop like Big Star should be all over this.
       Highlights include the ridiculously catchy "She'll Make You Cry", the Neil Diamond-aping "Caroline" (literally, the chorus features nothing but Yule shouting "Sweet Caroline!!"), and the countryish piano-pop of "Wordless". I'm also a fan of the opening "Little Jack", despite it being a hilariously obvious rip-off of the Stones' "Sympathy for the Devil" -- the bouncing rhythm, the "hoo hooo!" backing vocals, and even the verse melody are essentially lifted straight from it. But all these elements are repurposed in a surprisingly fun, entertaining way, and I can't help but enjoy the track. Of course, it's not all perfect. "Crash" is a completely forgettable throwaway, and the over-repetitive "Dopey Joe" is...well...I'm sure you see this joke coming, but yes, it's indeed very dopey. The closing "Louise" isn't bad per se, but it's nothing more than a rather unmemorable piano-pop song that just so happens to feature a bridge which sounds IDENTICAL to the Beatles' "While My Guitar Gently Weeps". It's perfectly listenable, though.
       Hell, the whole album's perfectly listenable! It's probably the worst of the five proper studio albums released under the band's name, but if you have any fondness for Loaded and you want more VU goodness along those same lines, definitely give this a listen.