THE VELVET UNDERGROUND

Although barely registering on the radar during their time together it is little exaggeration to say that, in the years since they broke up, the Velvet Underground have come to be regarded as a band as important as the likes of the Beatles or the Stones. Indeed, it was this very fact that they existed outside of popular consciousness that has made them so important, as they are generally recognised now as the very first alternative rock band and therefore inspiration (mostly directly) for nearly every major indie or alternative band since, including mainstream successes like REM and Nirvana. Not only were the Velvet Underground the first alternative band they were also, arguably, the best. Everything that you would look for in an alternative band can be found in the Velvets' career. Firstly, they were cool. And not just a rock'n'roll sort of cool but the very extreme of effortless, stylish too-cool-for-school type cool. Of course, originating from Andy Warhol's Factory scene immediately set them in good stead. Not only did they swan round looking like Parisien existentialists but the music they produced was the ultimate in cool, with distorted rock'n'roll guitars supporting Lou Reed's laconic drawl. Furthermore, the lyrical concept of the band, at a time when nearly everyone else was singing sappy love songs or LSD-inspired nonsensical ramblings, concerned (at least at the beginning) drugs, debauchery and general decadence. Is there a cooler song than "I'm Waiting for the Man"? I very much doubt it.

But what makes them great is that they were far more than just a cool band. Sonic Youth, for instance, might have borrowed a lot from them but they'll never be as good because they have never got to the bottom of the Velvets' brilliance. For starters, Lou Reed is one of the most talented songwriters of his generation. The last two albums are entirely, and brilliantly, song-based and even those dripping with feedback and distortion succeed as excellent rock'n'roll songs. Secondly, take off the sunglasses and the cool and you are left with a band with a heart. On their third album in particular, Lou's lyrics deal with what lies behind the mask of decadence and debauchery with quiet character studies of the alienation and self-loathing felt by those battling sexual ambiguity and drug dependency. Despite being a complete and utter bastard Lou Reed sure brings a lot of empathy to his music. Finally, like all the greats, the band were always moving. The first two albums showcase a deliberate and obstinate progression of avant-garde noise-making with White Light/White Heat being one of the most unlistenable classic albums of all time. John Cale left at that point, though, and the third and fourth albums instead show the band returning to traditional rock'n'roll but in a way that still saw them defining the very concept of indie and alternative rock, with the likes of Loaded equally as influential as the first two albums but on an entirely different group of bands. Therefore, despite the fact they only released four albums they probably still released four albums of more influence than nearly any other band. If anyone is interested in tracing out a history of rock there can be little argument that after the Beatles and Bob Dylan one of the next ports of call should be a band that sold about as many albums during their career that most lesser bands sell in a week.

It is often said that even though only about 500 people bought this album when it came out every one of them went on to form a darts team. Or something like that. Of course, it was hardly unsurprising that this album failed to become a radio friendly unit shifter and it was instead the intention of the band to be the first to experiment with the concept of rock'n'roll as art. Of course, rock'n'roll has always been art and masterpieces of the form had already been released by the likes of Dylan and the Beatles but no-one before had taken such a consciously aesthetic approach to making rock music. Ironically, Lou Reed had begun life as a commercial songwriter, writing pop songs for other people to sing, but when Dylan made it OK to not sing like sugar Lou quit his day job, intent of making the most of his casual New York drawl. Indeed, it is little overstatement to say that Lou's approach to vocals has become one of the most influential in rock music, from Iggy Pop all the way to the Strokes' Julian Casablancas, no doubt due to the effortless cool he invokes. He hooked up with like-minded musician John Cale, who had slipped over to New York from the none-less-cool rural backwaters of Wales in a bid to emulate his hero and near-namesake, the avant-garde classical composer John Cage. Andy Warhol gave them his patronage and insisted, to complete the experiment, that German 'chanteuse' Nico sing some of the songs. I am not familiar with the precise definition of the word 'chanteuse' but I imagine it means hot foreign bird who can't sing a bloody note. Nico's vocals are, at best, an acquired taste and Reed ditched her as soon as he had got tired of Warhol taking credit for something he had absolutely no hand in. Warhol apparently produces - his is the only name on the cover - but it is unlikely he had much of a hand in it. In any event, the production is deliberately lo-fi but hardly unlistenable, with a tinny veneer undoubtedly matching the decadence of the lyrics. As if to push the boat out as much as possible in their bid to be 'art' Lou's lyrics are deliberately close to the bone with "I'm Waiting for the Man" and the infamous "Heroin" pulling no punches in their descriptions of life as an junky. "All Tomorrow's Parties" celebrates the debauched decadence of life in New York's seediest regions and "Venus in Furs" is a notorious ode to S&M. Clearly, no-one at the time was singing such lyrics (even if Frank Zappa was attemping to be equally subversive) and, once their time eventually came, doors were opened up to lyricists that simply weren't there before. What makes this album a classic, though, is the fact that such innovations were backed up by consistently strong songs. Even though a song like "Heroin" succeeds more on its arrangement than its melody, with it gradually building up steam into an atonal barrage of noise, the likes of "Femme Fatale" (although better when Lou sang it) and the gorgeously lilting opener "Sunday Morning" are just simply great songs. Even the grimy garage rock numbers, like "Run Run Run" and "There She Goes Again", are superb in their delivery. The album principally mixes garage rock with artier, more esoteric efforts with the propulsive "I'm Waiting for the Man" (the coolest song ever, no debate) the peak of the former and the claustrophic intensity of "Venus in Furs" (thanks primarily to Cale's droning viola) the pick of the latter. And if all this wasn't enough innovations for you, as well as Nico, the band included a female member in the form of boy-faced drummer Mo Tucker thereby setting the precedent for all future lady-basses and, again, Sonic Youth. I fear some of my gushing may be undermined, though, if I were not to mention that the closing "European Son", which quickly degenerates into seven minutes of atonal racket-making, does not succeed as a piece of avant-garde excellence. Indeed, although the material may not be a huge amount stronger than their other eponymous album the overall effect of their approach, combined with its incalculable weight and influence, ensures this stands out as the most classic of all the albums the band put their name to. You might not have listened to this album before, but you will have heard it echoing through rock music in every decade since it was released.

Releasing your debut album with someone else's name on the cover is not the best way to get recognised and a man as short-tempered as Lou Reed very soon got tired of being seen as Warhol's puppet and the Factory's house band. He therefore gave Warhol one of his trademark 'fuck you's and set out to establish the band on their own terms. Instead of Warhol producing, the band rather curiously teamed up with the folk producer Tom Wilson (who had worked with Dylan on his very early albums) but, in any event, production would be a very loose term to describe the results. John Cale was just as forceful an artist as Lou, though, and together they pushed the band to the very edge of listenability in their drive to bring the avant-garde within rock'n'roll. Clearly, they had realised they were not going to sell very many records and set out to make the least commercial-sounding album the world had ever heard. The entire set is just a forty minute messy blast of distorted noise. It is one of the very few albums where there is simply no middle-ground. I simply cannot imagine someone thinking it mediocre or patchy. Either you like having your brains sonically assaulted for forty minutes or you cannot even listen to it. At best, there are two tracks on here that could be extracted from the mess and deemed 'proper' songs. The title track makes good on the band's promise to fuse rock'n'roll with the avant-garde with it being the simplest of rock'n'roll songs in form, just a basic blues riff and repetitive lyrics, but pushed so dramatically into the red with such a distorted fury that the needles were probably close to falling off. And then half-way through the wall of noise a crack appears in the form of the wonderfully incongruous "Here She Comes Now", a brief acoustic ballad with a minimalist beauty. Everything else, though, is just a mess. The great controversy on the album centres around the closing, side-long "Sister Ray" which takes one simple riff and mumbled lyrics and drags them out for seventeen and a half minutes. I simply cannot see, however, why everyone gets so worked up about it. It is not as if the album would have been drastically different without it (such as the reckless inclusion of "We Will Fall" on the Stooges' debut), it just would not have gone on for so long. The set is a fairly inclusive one, with little emphasis on the individual songs, so whether you like this album does not boil down to whether you like "Sister Ray" but simply whether you are into the whole 'challenging' approach to making rock music in the first place. Indeed, I would not even regard "Sister Ray" as the extreme of such an approach, granting such an honour instead to the paint-peeling fury of "I Heard Her Call My Name", which is a brutal beating of a rock'n'roll song with one of the most anarchic and compelling guitar solos ever, with Lou almost drawing blood from his instrument. A further source of controversy appears in the form of the eight minute "The Gift" for which Cale reads a short story, about a loser who mails himself to his ex-girlfriend, over the top of a repetitive guitar groove woven by Reed and Morrison. Some might suggest it runs out of usefulness after the first few listens but, practically speaking, it is hardly very different from listening to a rap song that relies on a narrative progression (Slick Rick's "Children's Story" for instance) and Lou's story is so well-written, with such a subtle attention to detail, that one can always find something to appreciate about it. Of course, this album is very definitely an acquired taste and there isn't the more traditional sounding material that makes VU&Nico palatable in parts to the more casual listener. Either you're all in or all out. It is one of the most violent and uncomfortable listens in rock but you only need to see how many bands got it so spectacularly wrong to realise just how well the Velvets did to get it so absolutely - if uncompromisingly - right.

If the Velvets were originally travelling down a path, albeit a previously untrodden one, of avant-garde rock'n'roll White Light/White Heat brought them to a crossroads. Cale, being a dedicated student of the more esoteric of the arts, wanted to push things further. Reed, however, disagreed. If Lou Reed disagrees with you something has to give and Cale quit to pursue his own projects (which he did to universal critical acclaim). Doug Yule was hired as his replacement and it is often highlighted as a point of debate as to how much influence Yule had in changing the Velvets' style so fundamentally. Certainly, without Cale there could be no more screeching viola, but one suspects Reed hired Yule in order to effect a change, rather than to suggest one. In any event, the band moved away from the confrontational unlistenability of White Light/White Heat and concentrated primarily on traditional sounding songs. There is only one exception, the nine minute "The Murder Mystery", which experiments with conflicting three vocal lines at the same time. As a musical experiment it actually sounds rather out of place, given the simplistic nature of the other material, and somewhat spoils the experience. The rest of the album consists of reasonably lengthed, normally structured songs that rely primarily on normal vocal melodies and minimalist acoustic arrangements. Although the Velvet Underground lost what audience they originally had when they left Warhol's wings if this album was released today it would probably actually do quite well amongst the sort of people who like relaxed melodicism to unwind to. Of course, the album is far deeper than mere easy-listening, wall-paper music with Lou's lyrics at their most sympathetic. Most of the pieces concern the quiet despair suffered by sexual misfits and alienated junkies, clearly echoing Hubert Selby Jr.'s masterpiece 'Last Exit to Brooklyn'. "Candy Says", for instance, opens the album with its matter of fact description of a self-loathing transexual. The vocals are almost crooned out but with a cracked hush that is immediately emotional and sympathetic and a million miles from the impersonal aggression of White Light/White Heat. The band generally refrain from rocking out, but they do succeed a couple of times with the classic rockers "What Goes On" and "I'm Beginning to See the Light", which are wonderful no-frills energetic rock'n'rollers that point towards Loaded with their jubilant lyrics and catchy hooks. Reed even experiments with country on "Some Kinda Love" and succeeds perfectly with a wonderfully lacksadaisacal downbeat melodicism. "Pale Blue Eyes" is the undeniable classic on the album, though, with its meek and weary guitar line complementing perfectly Lou's cracked vocals which, in turn, capture the emotional honesty coming at the end of a failed relationship. Similarly, "I'm Set Free" is a surprisingly open and simple account of the search for self-redemption and - in an appropriate way of contrasting this album with their debut - takes "Heroin"'s structure and sound but makes it a far more accommodating experience. Tucker gets to sing lead on the closing "After Hours", essentially a dark nursery rhyme of a song, and "Jesus" and "That's the Story of My Life" are similarly simple and unpretentious. A distance away, really, from the deliberate aggravation and distanced cool of the first two albums as Lou finally comes across as a man brimming with sympathy and empathy and with the downbeat, hushed melodicism to match. Most of the songs on here are the best in the band's career (and arguably Reed's) and it is a shame "The Murder Mystery" has to compromise the experience to such a degree, thereby ultimately dragging it down from perfection. The fact that this is so different from Nico but essentially as good only serves to show the tremendous calibre of the band, though.

From: Matt

I work for Lou. Your saying +Nico is the best...fine, but the self titled should have the same ranking, in my book. It is less rock, but the writing is superb.
BTW- Warhol didn't actually produce +Nico, it was a publicity thing.

If their eponymous third album could have been a palatable after-dinner album for the uncommitted record buyer Loaded, their fourth and final album, is often regarded as the one that could have been a smash hit. Instead of the hell-bent avalanche of distortion and feedback present on their first two LPs Loaded is a collection of poppy rock'n'roll songs. Even the brazen depictions of drugs and debauchery are absent from the lyrics with many of the songs unpretentious odes to the joys of rock'n'roll and having a good time, even if Lou is still sporadically concerned with the lonely and the losers from the last album. The contrast with this to their debut - and more strikingly White Light/White Heat - is as strong as it is unexpected. Who the hell would have thought the Velvets would have released an album like this just three years before? I cannot think of ANY major bands that have gone through such an abrupt turnaround in such a short space of time. Of course, if Lou was doing it for the wedge he was doing so in vain as the Velvets had long ago said goodbye to any significant fanbase. The buzz generated from being associated with Warhol had long since dissipated and those that stuck to the band because of their commitment to esoteric art within rock'n'roll were having their loyalty severely tried. In any event, the record failed to sell and Lou Reed quit, moving back in with his parents on Long Island. Indeed, it should serve as consolation to anyone in their twenties still living with their parents that for a while the coolest man in the world at that time was forced to do the same. I moved out years ago, of course, but I am sure I am still just as cool. In a way, Lou was probably pretty pissed off that he didn't just disband the Velvets earlier and then he could have released some of these classics during his much more commercially successful solo career. Some of the best songs he ever wrote appear here, none the worse for being housed in surprisingly traditional surroundings. "Sweet Jane" is an absolute gem of a rock'n'roll song, with it successfully apeing the cool of Bob Dylan's mid-sixties peak. Similarly, "Rock & Roll" would have no problems with the Trade Descriptions people as it is a glorious up-tempo tribute to the one of the highest forms of art. "New Age" is perhaps the only number that really has much of a link with the band's past (although the opening "Who Loves the Sun?" somewhat reflects "Sunday Morning") as it is a quiet, downbeat and utterly gorgeous tale of faded glory and lonely alienation that could've come straight off The Velvet Underground. The trouble with doing such a straight-up album is that when the songs are not particularly strong efforts they become more obviously ordinary, when not hidden behind walls of distortion or pierced with feedback. It sure is surprising hearing the band belt out generic rockers like "Lonesome Cowboy Bill" and "Train Coming Round the Bend" but they still unfortunately serve to lessen the impact of the album. One of the strangest additions is the lengthy closer, "Oh! Sweet Nuthin'", which starts out with maudlin country overtones, much as with some of the third album, but accelerates into a blistering-but-lengthy guitar solo. However, the solo is so typically sixties in its form that it actually sounds more adventurous within the scope of the band's career than the atonal fury of "I Heard Her Call My Name". Although this is an undoubtedly strong album it does pose some rather problematic questions about where the Velvets were to go next and it is little surprise that Lou decided to call it a day instead. The band actually soldiered on without him and released the much-maligned album Squeeze (which is currently in the process of being airbrushed out of history). Lou would go on to finally enjoy commercial success (with David Bowie's help) with his Transformer album and release at least one more masterpiece, albeit flawed, in the form of 1973's Berlin. As for Loaded, although it contains some of the band's best material, it also provides a curiously mundane end for one of the decade's, if not century's, most challenging bands.

First released as a double vinyl set in 1974 these recordings were split into two separate albums for the CD generation, thereby doubling the record company's revenue. I agree it seems unlikely that one would listen to both sides back-to-back in one sitting but that hardly necessitates having to pay out twice just to own the complete set. In any event, given I own the set as two CDs I have decided to review it as two CDs but I do so with a raised fist waved half-heartedly in the direction of Mercury Records. The CD issues do include a bonus track on each volume not on the original vinyl set but the 'bonus' version of "Heroin" on here is pretty pointless as a far superior version exists on the second LP anyway. Although the Velvet Underground did not release a live album whilst they were in existence, and therefore all documents originate from audience recordings, there are (at least) four live albums in circulation. There is the document of their 1997 reunion shows (without the late Sterling Morrison) which I have no interest in hearing; Live at Max's Kansas City, which purportedly contains the last ever VU gig with Reed but is apparently rather sloppy; and the more recently released box set The Quine Tapes (so-called because they were recorded by the Voidoids' guitarist and Velvet Underground obsessive Robert Quine) which is apparently pretty good but I still find myself put off by the prospect of over NINETY minutes worth of "Sister Ray" over the three discs. The Quine Tapes document pretty much the same period as these two compilations, specifically the period between the release of The Velvet Underground and Loaded (as with VU, reviewed below) with Doug Yule on guitar. Or, as the album's title suggests, in 1969 with Lou Reed. The sound quality is pretty rough and ready, with an audible hiss throughout that increases in volume as the band decrease the force of their performance. Indeed, the loudness of the hiss even overtakes the volume of the music when "Lisa Says" drops into its quiet coda. Still, the performances shine through and given the strength of the show we can forgive the poor quality of the recording. The band are generally more gentle than one might expect and rarely rock out. "Rock and Roll" is run through with joyous aplomb but the extended duel between Reed's rhythm guitar and Yule's organ on "What's Goes On" soon proves tiring. Surprisingly for a live show, it is the subtlety and emotion that impresses most, with the best version of "Lisa Says" I have ever heard and an extended "New Age" dripping with sadness and despondancy (the delivery of the altered opening lines is positively tearful). Lou even brings out the emotion in "Femme Fatale" with a vocal performance that suggests he actually knows what the song is about, whereas Nico might as well have been reading out her shopping list. Of course, without the uncompromising production of the early albums this compilation shows up just how song-based the Velvets' career actually was and even with the opening "I'm Waiting for the Man" slowed down with prominent country overtones the sheer quality of the songwriting ensures it is still an unrivalled - if perverse - success. Although it would be interesting to hear how the VU sounded live when they started out, as a straight up rock'n'roll band, as captured on here, they display a flexibility and resonance that many critics simply overlook.

But we are not finished, of course, as the document continues into a second CD and third side of vinyl. Unfortunately, the second CD is marginally less impressive as it chooses to highlight the more adventurous side of the VU's live performances above the more standard song-based approach. Still, it is good that this CD does not merely repeat the tricks of the first and all new material is included, not including the bonus version of "Heroin" at the end of Volume 1. The ten minute version of "Heroin" on here is far superior, with it more restrained yet ambitious than the album version and ending up sounding like, arguably, the definitive version of it. Similarly, this set opens with "Ocean" but dragged out for almost eleven minutes to allow Reed and friends to experiment more with the ebb and flow of the arrangement. Clearly, when writing the song it was Reed's intention to mimic the endless caressing of the tides and the studio versions on VU and his debut are far more concise in that respect. It is a nice listen but, all the same, probably the best time to go to the bar. Indeed, the main shtick of this compilation is to capture the long instrumental work-outs that the band indulged in with "White Light/White Heat" and "I Can't Stand it" (this volume's bonus track) starting off with the original song but both spin off into lengthy, anarchic guitar solos. Whilst there is no doubting the novelty and, perhaps, influence in Lou's abrasive, almost tuneless style, with the way he ignores the chord changes reflective of modal jazz's approach to soloing, it does just kinda go on. A little more focus would not have gone amiss and even though his style is so different to the endless jams of his hippy contemporaries the concept is perhaps all-too-similar. The extended rock'n'roll jamming of "Sweet Bonnie Brown/It's Just Too Much" is probably a lot more in line with the influence of the Velvets, particularly the way it pre-empts the maximum rock'n'roll of the MC5. Like the first volume, a highlight appears in the form of a sparse and emotional rendition of "Pale Blue Eyes", which again shows the band's subtlety as performers. An 'exclusive' track appears in the form of the pleasant (and brief) "Over You" and we again get a Nico-track stripped of her atonal, cardboard vocals but it only goes to show that "I'll Be Your Mirror" is not as strong a composition as "Femme Fatale". Still, there is easily enough on this album to warrant the further display of Velvety goodness and it seems like a rather exploitative shame that we should have to pay for the experience twice over. In any event, though, and despite the dodgy sound quality these two live albums perfectly wipe away any doubts that the Velvet Underground were style over substance, with performances that reveal musical flexibility, emotional engagement, subtlety in arrangements, and simply brilliant songwriting.

The Velvet Underground first begun to acquire popularity a few years after they broke up and their stock rose exponentially over the next two decades as Lou established himself as a successful solo star and every cool artist under the sun started namechecking them (beginning, famously, with David Bowie). A clamour therefore developed for some more 'product' from the band and Verve were delighted to chance upon some long-forgotten tapes of outtakes from what would have been the fourth Velvet Underground. The band had been dropped after The Velvet Underground, though, and by the time they came to record Loaded for Atlantic Records they had a new batch of material. Therefore, this release turns out to be an excellent one, in effect granting us a belated fifth album by the band, written and recorded at their arguable peak. On the other hand, given these recordings didn't see the light of day until 1986 it does rather resemble the Velvet Underground covering a bunch of Lou Reed's solo songs. With this material stashed away, whenever Reed felt lazy over the course of his solo career, he would record a version of one of these numbers, safe in the knowledge that no-one bar him and a handful of people knew he had actually written them years earlier. Of course, that would be a little unfair as, although a new version of "She's My Best Friend" crops up on 1976's Coney Island Baby, most of these songs were, in fact, re-recorded by Lou right at the start of his solo career and make up the bulk of his eponymous debut. Given he was so quick to re-use this material one wonders why the band wrote a whole new set of numbers for Loaded but I suspect copywrite issues probably had something to do with it, with Verve perhaps owning the rights. In any case, this material is essentially the match of that of Loaded, if not quite the preceding trio of albums. Indeed, the general style of it falls somewhere between the downbeat melodicism of The Velvet Underground and the up-tempo rock'n'roll of Loaded. That said, two of the numbers were recorded before Cale had quit and although the curious "Temptation Inside Your Heart" (with the band contributing bizarre comments between the vocals) is suitably art-for-art's sake "Stephanie Says" has far more in common with the third album, rather than White Light/White Heat, and has a beautifully sad narrative set against a suitably despairing melody, emphasised by Cale's gorgeous viola. It is clearly the best track on the album and also, probably not by coincidence, the only version on here that Reed equalled himself with it forming the desperate centrepiece to his bleak masterpiece Berlin. That said, most of the material on his debut is not vastly inferior to these versions, although "I Can't Stand it" is more impressive with the Velvets, and with the subtle ebb and flow of "Ocean" the least different. The 1969 version of "She's My Best Friend" is far superior, though, with its brilliantly catchy chorus hook (although borrowed from Pink Floyd's "See Emily Play") only hampered somewhat by a muffled, weak production. The final highlight is the laidback country croon of "One of These Days" (which again coulda come straight off the third album), although the compilation as a whole is let down by the lengthy "Foggy Notion" which captures the band's irritating obsession for dragging out simple rhythms for what seems like eons. Ironically, the only time they really succeeded was with the longest of them all - "Sister Ray". Despite the songs being recorded in a studio the production and CD mastering is weak and the consistency isn't quite up to the first three albums but, along with Loaded, it is a much deserved and awaited showcase of the band's ability to simply write great songs.

From: Rick Klugman

Most of the songs on the VU compilation were part of that fabled lost Velvet Underground album, according to Lou. Considering the high quality of the songs like "Foggy Notion", it is shocking that the record label sat on these recordings, leaving them unreleased (except in bootlegs) for 15 years.

From: o.hugues@wanadoo.fr

I'm surprised you didn't "get" this one, since you seemed to "get" the first three (but you overrate Loaded - every *real* Velvet fan can't love this album, it's way too average for a Velvet album!...). So, VU IS better than Loaded, no question about it. It should have been released instead Loaded in 1970, and it would have been a classic. Maybe their breakthrough, who knows? Who was recording rocks like "Foggy Notion" in 1969 except the Stooges? Man, when I heard "I Can't Stand It" for the first time on a vinyl borrowed from a friend, I instantly knew it was *my* rock'n'roll, much more than Led Zeppelin!

'Goddamn', thought Richard Ashcroft of Verve records, 'it has taken me fifteen years to suddenly realise I can make money outta those pale-faced art-school posers. VU made me plenty of money. Let's release another one.' However, Ashcroft's plan was on the point of being scuppered when he discovered the cupboards were looking decidedly bare. However, he had already spent a good few hours chuckling over his puntastic title for the new compilation so he was determined not to let it go to waste. Therefore, instead of complete studio recordings of great, original songs that were half-intended for actual release, Ashcroft was forced to throw together a bunch of demos originating from that period but presenting it as another set of brand new material. The resulting compilation therefore, whilst there being no complaints about the cleverness of the title, is a rather patchy affair, with one's view falling only upon a paucity of material. "We're Gonna Have a Real Good Time Together" is a bona fide lost classic, with the high-tempo rock'n'roller often forming part of their live set, and the droning "Hey Mr. Rain" is an interesting glimpse of a side of their experimentation they decided not to pursue (although including two similar versions still shows up the audacity of this package), but everything else is mostly unnecessary. Unfortunately, as is often the case with demos, most of the tracks are merely instrumental run-throughs of songs. Of course, Verve are not alone in releasing useless demos, speciously citing the public interest in hearing 'embryonic' versions of classics, but shelling out for a compilation that leans so heavily on them leaves one feeling rather cheated. Of course, I am being a bit of grouch over this given I actually really like the instrumental version of "Ride Into the Sun", with the delightful, reflective melody being played by the guitar instead of Lou's vocals. Thankfully, a full version appears on his debut album, meaning I can enjoy it twice over. It would be nice, though, to hear the full version of "Guess I'm Falling in Love" given the interesting incongruity between the sappy title and the brutal guitar track. There are three more songs-with-words but both "Ferryboat Bill" and "Coney Island Steeplechase" are insignificant efforts and an early version of "Rock and Roll" reveals few surprises. It seems to me, a man of undoubted wisdom, that the sensible thing to do would be to just increase VU to include "We're Gonna Have a Real Good Time Together" and the first version of "Hey Mr. Rain". That way, the near-twenty year old CD version of VU could get the remastering it desperately needs and we would end up with yet another Velvet classic. Plus, it would keep Richard Ashcroft from being able to perform Godawful duets with Coldplay.

From: Rick Klugman <RKlugman@jefco.com>

You pointed out that "Guess I'm Falling in Love" on Another View is an "instrumental version" but you didn't know where the version with vocals can be found. Check out the Peel Slowly and See box set or the reunion live album. Personally, I like that blistering instrumental on Another View over the vocal versions anyway.

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