rambling thoughts - sweet jane

I had the ipod on shuffle this morning and after a couple of very pretty but very noodly Michael Brook instrumentals I was suddenly blasted with “Sweet Jane” – the original from Loaded.

 

After years of hearing umpteen Lou Reed live versions of varying quality (surely this must be the song that Lou Reed played live more than any other?), it’s wonderful to be reminded of how damn good the original actually is. And this was the ‘proper’ mix that was put out in 1970 - recent issues of Loaded have of course restored the ‘heavenly wine and roses’ section – Lou was allegedly furious when this was edited out without his permission, though I think it was the right decision to lose that bit, as it makes the song so much punchier.

And what a song – Lou actually sings pretty well, that twinkling intro is delightful (although it was apparently nicked from another, unused, song), That Riff is just brilliant, and the whole thing is given a bright commercial shine by the producers that Lou claimed to despise so much. Quite reasonably, the rest of the Velvets were extremely happy with Loaded, with Sterling and Doug both on record as saying that the VU had never sounded better and that it was only Mr Grumpy Reed who had any issue with it. And it does sound good - it's clearly miles away from the seedy grime of the first couple of VU albums, but the brighter, more positive sound of Loaded really works so well. The Velvets still sound like a band from the New York streets, and they have not been turned into, in any sense, a clean cut pop band, but it's genuinely good to hear the Velvets so clearly and so well produced.

 

There's a (surprisingly for the VU) hopeful and upbeat sound to the whole song. The lyrics are terrific too - one of the best of Lou's vignettes, the characters of Jack and Jane are finely and swiftly sketched - one's in a corset, the other in a vest, you figure out which is which... they are saving their money, sittin' there by the fire, the radio playing, and you can hear Jack say...

 

"Sweet Jane... oh.... whoaaa" 

 

It's such a perfect chorus. Positively joyful, a shout out of hope and love. For all his contrary ways, and his professed love of the avant garde, Lou Reed was rarely better than when he wrote straightforward, simple, catchy rock and roll songs. And "Sweet Jane" is one of the best there is, from anyone.

 

 

legendary gigs - bataclan 1972

There are some gigs that have attained legendary status, and not always for musical reasons. The final Ziggy Stardust gig, the Sex Pistols at the 100 Club etc etc. Shows that are frequently talked about, written about, and are thus given a reputation that perhaps they don't always deserve.

 

In January 1972, Lou Reed, John Cale and Nico gave a joint performance at the Bataclan club in Paris. At the time none of these musicians were terribly well known, especially in Europe, and it's only with hindsight that this partial reunion of the Velvet Underground has gathered almost mythical status.

 

Oddly no-one seems very sure as to why this gig actually happened. It was Lou's first live performance since he left the Velvets at Max's Kansas City in the summer of 1970. And it was John Cale's first performance since he'd left the Velvets two years before that! 

 

With Lou sporting a big afro and playing acoustic guitar, John on viola, piano or 12 string acoustic, and Nico on her trusty harmonium, someone had the sense to film this show (though I've never seen the footage), and the audio has been bootlegged for years before a semi official release about 10 years ago.

 

Trouble is, the semi official CD runs too slow. Way too slow. Some time ago I created my own corrected version by increasing the speed by about 10%. Now it's a decent listen. The slow CD sounded like all three were doped up to the eyeballs - and while that was quite possibly the case, even Nico never normally sounded quite that sllllooowww…

 

The show opens with just Lou and John on a sprightly "Waiting For The Man" with John playing a rather jaunty piano. He stays at the piano for the first ever performance of "Berlin", which Lou would record later that spring for his first solo album. Then we get "The Black Angel's Death Song", not as scary as the original, a bit slower too, but the required scratchy, maddening viola is well to the front. "Wild Child" follows, another premiere, with both Lou and John on guitars.  Then "Heroin" - the viola is back, droning menacingly throughout the song, just as it should be. A really good version. 

 

Then it's John's turn to take centre stage. "Ghost Story" is a cracking song, and this solo performance is excellent. Then two oddities "The Biggest Loudest Hairiest Group Of All" is a funny look at the misfortunes of a rock band, quite possibly the VU… Cale rarely does strum along folky songs but that's basically what this is. The audience even claps along good-naturedly - you never got that happening at VU shows! Then "Empty Bottles" which he wrote for Jennifer Warnes. A nice Paris 1919 style ballad, but not terribly remarkable. 

 

Finally, here's Nico. The boys strum and sing backing vocals on "Femme Fatale" - lovely performance. Then Lou sits himself down on a stool at the side of the stage to watch Nico at the harmonium while John accompanies on the viola - "Frozen Warnings", "No-One Is There" and a stunning, as always, "Janitor Of Lunacy". They wrap up the show with all three on a delightfully sweet "I'll Be Your Mirror" and an oddly ragged encore of "All Tomorrow's Parties". 

 

It's all very interesting, but overall it's not the most satisfying of gigs. At times it's clearly badly under-rehearsed, and occasionally rather lacklustre. This may be a little surprising considering who's playing, but perhaps not so surprising given that this was the first gig for many years for both Lou and John. It may be a legendary show, that wonderful near Velvets reunion, but as is frequently the case with legends, the truth of the matter is sadly rather less exciting. I've not listened to this gig for a good many years, and I doubt it'll get played again for a good many more. 

 

It's a bit daft really, but I'd never get rid of this recording as it's yet another one of those that I'm really glad I've got. Even if I don't play it much.

lou reed - berlin, the acetate version

Lou Reed's Berlin. An album that divided critics and fans back in 1973, but which is now considered to be perhaps Lou's greatest album. An uncompromising descent into the story of Caroline, the hapless protagonist of these songs, in the final months of her sad life. It's a stunning, if harrowing work. 

Over the years there have been many suggestions that Berlin was intended to be a double album, although there's never been any sign of any extra songs. However, recently an acetate record has come to light containing longer and differently mixed versions of some of the songs. This gives some credence to Lou's comments that basically they'd over-recorded and had to trim, quite drastically in some cases, most of the songs to bring the whole album in under 50 minutes. 

These tracks are very nearly finished, the vocals for example are the finished takes, the orchestral overdubs are just about the same as the eventual album apart from a few noticeable differences on songs like "Sad Song" and "Caroline Says… I", but the overall sound is slightly muddy as it's clearly a cassette copy of the actual disc, and quite probably a few cassettes down from that. 

The acetate begins with "Caroline Says… I" - the same as what we are used to, until the dizzying orchestral conclusion which goes on much longer than on the finished album until that sudden ending and cymbal crash which leads into "How Do You Think It Feels?". This also has a longer outro. Then "Oh Jim", which is split in two, the opening body of the song dissolving into a longer guitar workout which actually ends rather than fading out. Part two, the strummed "Oh Jim, How could you treat me this way?" part starts from scratch. On the final album the guitar and horn duel dissolves into the strummed intro of the second part. 

Then we get "Berlin" itself which has a whole new ending. Instead of that final downbeat piano chord leading into "Lady Day" the final note is replaced by a whirling organ and guitar part which riffs on the basic "Berlin" melody for about a minute and a half. It's oddly jolly, and quite Scott Walkerish (somewhat like "The Girls From Streets") and good though it is you can see why it was cut, as it doesn't really fit the mood. The acetate is missing "Lady Day", Men Of Good Fortune" and "Caroline Says… II" - whether these were actually on the disc or not, or just not recorded onto cassette I don't know, but the recording continues with the last three songs on side two. 

"The Kids" is near enough the same, the children's voices are perhaps slightly more strident, and therefore slightly more disturbing. "The Bed" - the echo and ghostly organ sounds different to me, and the song comes to an end with the otherworldly choir effects that usually end the song being tracked separately. This heavenly choir conclusion is also longer and sounds more similar to the unearthly choir effects in 2001 - specifically the Ligeti piece that Kubrick used whenever the Monolith appeared. Can't be a coincidence. 

And finally "Sad Song" which begins cleanly, no segue from "The Bed". Same track, same marvellous arrangement, some little orchestral differences I think, but nothing terribly dramatic. I've no idea where the missing songs are, or where this acetate recording came from - it appeared to surface about a year ago, and since then it's been widely spread around the internet. Google 'Berlin Acetate' and you'll find all sorts of references to it. Wonder where it's been for the past 40+ years? 

In the same vein - I also played Lou Reed live in Copenhagen September 1973. The band is rock solid, the same band as on Rock And Roll Animal and Lou Reed Live, so you know how solid that is! But Lou is all over the place - it's very early on the Berlin European tour and yet Lou is sometimes forgetting words, getting the timing all wrong, and slurring badly. But it's weird, you get a sloppy, wasted "Walk On The Wild Side". then, all of sudden, he snaps into focus for a killer, razor sharp "Oh Jim". He's suddenly like a different person, all angry and snarly and full of that Lou Reed attitude, yet just minutes before he'd been a dribbling waste of space, ruining a good song. But in the mid 1970s that was Lou!

magic & loss - lou reed / avenue b - iggy pop

Further to my list of Lou Reed favourites I forgot to mention that one of my Reed Rediscoveries has been his 1992 album Magic And Loss. It's a series of songs about ageing and death, in places reflecting directly on the deaths of a couple of his close friends. 

It's an album that really didn't grab me when it was first released. I was only 25, and, I suppose, too young to fully comprehend what Lou was singing about. Back then, to me the album was something of a downer, sung by a man who was only 50 but was clearly looking ahead and seeing darker times, facing up to his mortality. It's not something you want to consider at 25. And so it's an album that has been very rarely played since. But now, perhaps alarmingly, it all makes a lot more sense to me. The moods, the emotions, the whole approach - now I can see where he's coming from, and where he's going, too. The title track concludes the album in a wonderfully moving manner, and ends with the utterly brilliant line:

"There's a little magic in everything, and then some loss, to even things out."

And frankly I never heard a truer statement.  

Magic And Loss prompted me to dig out another album that reflects heavily on ageing and loss, Iggy Pop's Avenue B. In 1998 Iggy found himself alone for the first time in years. His wife had left the previous year, and Iggy, then hitting 50, had embarked on some ill-judged affairs with much younger women. None of which brought him happiness, just more grief. So he retired to his apartment on Avenue B in New York, called in a couple of musician friends and recorded Avenue B, a predominantly acoustic album (because much of it was recorded in either his apartment or his guitarist's apartment and they couldn't turn things up or the neighbours would've complained!) Many of the songs were autobiographical, and were interspersed with instrumental passages over which Iggy would intone a few short narratives. The extremely moody opening one goes:

It was in the winter of my fiftieth year when it hit me.
I was really alone.
And there wasn't a hell a lot of time left.
Every laugh and touch that I could get became more important.
Strangely, I became more bookish, and my home and study meant more to me as I considered the circumstances of my death. 
I wanted to find a balance between joy and dignity on my way out.
Above all, I didn't want to take any more shit.
Not from anybody.

Interestingly, I 'got' this album immediately. I was 32 when it was issued, but the ageing process and the loss of youth, looks and energy that Iggy touched on seemed somewhat more relevant to me than Lou's requiems to dead friends had seemed, just seven years earlier. I, too, have become more bookish as I've got older, and I'm also becoming more determined not to take any more shit - not from anybody.

goodbye lou

So it's a few months on from the death of Lou Reed and find myself returning to his music more than I'd usually do. Everyone has their favourites and here's some of mine.

 

I was hugely irritated by many of the reports of Lou's passing. Whilst I was actually quite surprised at how widely his death was reported, I was equally not that surprised by the huge inaccuracies in many of the reports. Just a day after Lou had slipped away the Daily Mail ran a feature that basically said Lou Reed ("a heroin addict for most of his life") was directly responsible for a great many people's drug habits, the evil old git. Never mind that he'd been sober, teetotal and drug free since 1982, which surely constitutes 'most of his life' , but, my god, the man was barely cold. Nice one Daily Mail.

And all the obituaries and stories of Lou Reed's life went on about "Satellite Of Love", or "Perfect Day", or "Walk on the Wild Side" as if these were the only songs he'd ever recorded. Well, yes these are terrific songs, rightly called classics, but they were recorded more than 40 years ago and he's done hundreds of other songs before and since, many of which were, surprisingly, as good or sometimes better than songs on the Transformer album. In fact, Lou Reed made many other albums after Transformer, but you wouldn't know it from the news reports…

So here's a brief list of absolutely brilliant Lou Reed songs that no-one else would bother to mention, but which I think sum up the great man rather better than endless mentions of "Satellite Of Love".

"I'm Set Free" from the third Velvets album. Gorgeous ballad, and the most emotional guitar solo I've ever heard. It actually sounds like the guitar is crying.

"I'm Sticking With You" - Mo Tucker's innocent vocals and Lou and Doug's tender harmonies at the end all add up to what is surely the sweetest and most delightful song he ever wrote. Shame it never got a proper release.

"Caroline Says II" from Berlin - frankly ALL of Berlin should be on this list, but this second "Caroline Says" is equal parts heartbreak and faint hope. The numbed out pain that Caroline is going through, in an abusive relationship that she's trying to freeze out, is astonishingly starkly realised. But she turns a small corner with the realisation that "you can hit me all you want, but I don't love you any more". As the second side of Berlin progresses the terrible fate of Caroline is laid bare in all it's stark horror. But it's still an amazing album.

"Ennui" from Sally Can't Dance, no-one's favourite Reed album. This weary track sounds almost like a Berlin leftover, and contains one of my absolute favourite lines ever - the marvellously bitter "one day you'll have a wife... and then alimony...."

"A Gift" - surely one of Lou's funniest songs ever. Coney Island Baby was a concerted effort to make a marketable album, full of songs that could be played on US radio. (OK, maybe not the frankly disturbing "Kicks", but most of them...) Here Lou pokes sly fun at his image, with his tongue so far into his cheek that I don't how he could sing at all! "I'm just a gift to the women of this world... after you've had me then you know you've had the best"

"You Wear It So Well" from Rock And Roll Heart. Moody, piano led ballad, which contains a faint air of desperation and a cracking vocal from Lou which rests uneasily between control and disintegration. The wobbly backing vocals are terrific too.

"Coney Island Baby" - the live version on Take No Prisoners. Probably my favourite Lou Reed track ever. The power of the 1978 band takes your breath away, and there's a weird beauty in this track. The way he really belts out the end of the song - "the glory of love" - is so very emotional. He sings himself hoarse, but it's so very heartfelt.

"Stupid Man" - no idea why I like this track much. No-one much likes The Bells, but it contains some of Lou's most unusual and quirky songs. This is catchy, almost commercial, and Lou even sings it, rather than his usual speaking drawl of a voice. I also love the bizarre soundscapes, out of tune trumpets and the incomprehensible lyrics of the title track.

"How Do You Speak To An Angel?" I have a soft spot for 1980's Growing Up In Public. Anyone else? Thought not... Lots of amusing story songs, that are mostly, but not exclusively about his life. This one is wonderful, the portrait of a tongue-tied young man unable to speak to girl of his dreams is very deftly drawn. And the jazzy backing makes a nice change.

"NYC Man" from Set The Twilight Reeling. Much of Lou's output since Songs For 'Drella hasn't really spoken to me in the same way that albums like Street Hassle, or Berlin did. But 1996's Set The Twilight Reeling has a number of high points, and this one stands head and shoulders above the others. Pretty much a manifesto for his life, there's some neat horns, and a lovely melancholy mood on this shuffling celebration of his home town. The next year Bowie introduced Lou on stage as the King Of New York, and that's as good a description of Lou Reed as you'll ever hear.

Bye Lou. And thanks for all the music.
 

white light / white heat - velvet undergound

Well, the new White Light / White Heat remaster. What a noise!

 

As expected, it's a mixed bag. With very little previously unheard material to work with the surprises are few and far between. 

 

I'll start off with the live set from the Gymnasium in April 1967. Most dedicated VU fans will already have this, as it's been bootlegged for years. The sound quality, to these ears, isn't noticeably any different from my existing bootleg, so it's ok sound for 1967, but is still rather harsh. Sadly there are still a number of minor volume fluctuations - these must've been on the original tapes, but it’s odd that these haven't been smoothed out. It's not much, I'll probably do it myself in CoolEdit, so it's a little annoying that they've not been dealt with properly. And the new version also misses out some of the between song tuning and silences, which makes the Velvets sound a little more polished on stage due to the lack of protracted gaps. The only real difference between the boots and the new version is the inclusion of "The Gift", which to my knowledge has never appeared on any of the boots. Sadly, it's just the instrumental, and isn't actually all that interesting on it's own… 

 

The Stereo version of WL/WH sounds, to me, to be the same as the master prepared in the mid 1990s for the Peel Slowly And See set, which is the one used on subsequent issues. To be honest, there's so little to work with in terms of polishing the sound that it must be virtually impossible to make any sonic improvements to the murk and distortion that was laid down in 1967. And to do so, kind of misses the point. But the stereo disc offers some nice surprises towards the end. 

 

The bonus tracks, those remaining Cale-era tracks familiar from Another View and VU in the 1980s are much better than on previous releases. These are all labelled 'original mix' and this confirms what many had long suspected - that the VU and Another View tracks had been quite extensively remixed to prepare them for release back then. You can immediately hear the difference on "Guess I'm Falling In Love". Still only an instrumental, but the version here is now obviously part of the WL/WH sessions, rather than the much cleaner, bouncier mix that we have on Another View. The 80s mix gave it that drum heavy 80s plastic sheen. Not here - it's all scuzzy and sweaty and far more exciting. And how good is that fuzzed up guitar! The differences on the two versions of "Hey Mr Rain" are less obvious, the viola is a bit higher in the mix, and "Temptation Inside Your Heart" sounds pretty much the same as before to me, but "Stephanie Says" is remarkably different. Some of the viola work sounds different and some of the backing vocals are very different, not as sweet, with different lines and harmonies, to the extent that I wonder if the VU version had received some fresh overdubs in 1985? There's an alternative mix of "I Heard Her Call My Name" which has differences in the instrumentation levels, but nothing too significant. It's labelled as a different take, but it's clearly just the same version that we're all used to, albeit with the rhythm track boosted and the skull splitting guitar a little less lethal. Finally we get a 1968 Cale version of "Beginning To See The Light" which is interesting, though it's a bit lacklustre and nowhere near as good as the finished version recorded at the end of the year with Doug Yule. 

 

The Mono disc contains the mono single mixes of the title track and it's b-side "Here She Comes Now", and you'd have to have better ears than mine to identify what makes them different from the mono albums mixes. We have the vocal version and the instrumental version of "The Gift" which are simply the discrete tracks mixed to mono. The story on it's own sounds very strange, and it really misses the music track. But it's good to hear the grinding backing track on it's own (though I had the story running in my head the whole time!). But the album itself in mono is terrific. I really didn't think this would be so good. I like the weird stereo effects on the original album, the way that voices fly in and out, the split on "The Gift" etc etc. But there are vagaries in the mix, and some elements get a bit lost over there or over here. In mono there's none of that. It hits you between the eyes and like Marsha's sheet metal cutter, it goes right through the centre of your head. There's not much in the way of different instrumentation like you sometimes get between stereo / mono mixes. But the sheer power of the band comes through loud and clear - well not that clear, it's a horrible mess of noise, but you know what I mean. The initial rush of the title track has never sounded better. "The Gift" works better than I thought it would too. The vocals on "Lady Godiva" aren't quite as distracting in mono - I seemed to focus more on the music, and what a mesmerizingly dreamlike track it is. "Here She Comes Now" - here's an odd thing. The percussion is much clearer in mono - to be honest I'd never noticed the percussion before - it's there on the stereo mix of course, but I'd never paid it any attention. Here, it's much clearer, and it's very good. Mo was a much better drummer than people ever gave her credit for. Side two though is the absolute bizniz. "I Heard Her Call My Name" is an amazing track anyway, but in mono it seems so much more relentless than ever with That Guitar firing out of the speakers to decimate your ears. In stereo you can hear where it's coming from, in mono there's nowhere to hide, it just attacks you from everywhere, all at the same time. If you look up the word relentless in the dictionary then you ought to be pointed towards "Sister Ray". My goodness, what a song. Again, as with "I Heard Her Call My Name", it's absolutely vicious. The song almost collapses under the strain of  Cale's organ slugging it out with Lou's guitar in sort of Godzilla v King Kong battle to the death. But, astoundingly, "Sister Ray" staggers on to survive 17 solid minutes of distortion and utter hell. The fearsome crackling that underpins much of the music on the this album points to the sheer amount of volume that the band were using, and it genuinely gives the impression that the equipment was actually on fire and burning up! 

 

So, the box set is good, but it's very expensive for just 3 cds, and I wouldn't say it was really worth the money. There is a two disc version, the stereo disc plus the live set - not the mono disc, which in my opinion, is probably the best part. 

 

Finally, some random thoughts about the creation of "The Gift". Stick with me on this and see what you think. Since the very beginning it's been acknowledged that "The Gift" came about when Lou's story was married to an instrumental called "Booker T". All Velvets fans know this. In 1990 John Cale issued the album Paris S'Eveille which contained a track recorded at the Gymnasium in April 1967. This was the first time this tape was known about, and came from Cale's personal archive. All very exciting, except that the track, called "Booker T" by Cale, is clearly not the same tune as on "The Gift". With this new issue of the whole Gymnasium gig we can see for the first time that the show begins and ends with two longish instrumentals. The end track IS clearly the same tune as on "The Gift" and the opening one is the one called "Booker T". But, perhaps, when Cale was preparing Paris S'Eveille he dug out his old tape and used the wrong instrumental - ie: perhaps the track now labelled "The Gift" on the live show was in fact referred to as "Booker T" by the Velvets at the time, and the opening jam was actually called something else. Certainly the closing instrumental would not have been called "The Gift" at this early stage as we are months ahead of Lou's story being attached to this music. So could the confusion actually all be down to Cale mislabelling or misremembering the title of an instrumental jam? 

 

This was the last release that Lou Reed had a hand in creating. Seems somehow fitting that it's such a stunning mess of noise, distortion and leakage. And that's stunning in its most literal definition ie, it actually stuns you. There's very little else you can do while WL/WH is playing. Although having said that - the instrumental track for "The Gift" is great for walking to - perfect tempo for a decent stroll. 

 

But on the whole it's an overwhelming album, hard and harsh and nasty and unpleasant and violent - it has a similar effect to the Stooges' Raw Power as it basically grabs you by the throat and pins you to the wall. It's also very very loud. WL/WH is an assault on the senses. This is rock music, or whatever you want to call it, at it's most violent and most extreme. By quite some distance.

 

 I hope that we get a 45th anniversary issue of the third VU album. There is already the regular mix and the 'closet' mix, plus I'm sure there's a mono version out there. It would be great if all the VU / Another View tracks could be included too, especially if they are as sympathetically restored as the ones here. I would guess that the 45th anniversary releases would end there as Loaded was on another label, and anyway, is there anything else that wasn't already on the Fully Loaded reissue from a few years ago? 

 

What I would love would be a decent reworking of the VU 1969 Live double album. I wonder if the masters could be found? Even back in 1974, when this set was first compiled, a large number of the tracks were taken from acetate discs, which had been created some years earlier as back ups, rather than from the actual tapes. So maybe the original tapes had been lost 40 years ago? Who knows, but it would be superb if a decent reissue could be created from this stuff. If only, if only, if only... 

lou reed in the 1970s

I recently played a couple of Lou Reed albums from both ends of the 1970s and came to the conclusion that pretty much everything Lou did during that decade was astounding, one way or another, and the pretty much everything he's done since has been decidedly underwhelming. OK, so that's perhaps a huge generalisation, but that's what generalisations are, sweeping and frequently unfair. But in this case, it's true.

After Lou left the Velvet Underground in August 1970 he decided to leave the music business altogether. But a spell working in his dad's office convinced him that a settled-down life wouldn't work, and besides, he was still coming up with songs at a rapid rate.

After some legal shenanigans Lou ended up with a record deal on RCA. Lou Reed - the imaginatively titled first solo album from early 1972 contained a bunch of reworked Loaded out-takes which were remarkable only because they were all vastly inferior to the original Velvets versions. To be fair “Ocean” was pretty good, though the various Velvets' takes of this are miles better. But the new songs were good - “Going Down” is lovely, and “Wild Child” has a real spark. An interestingly patchy album, and one that oddly has not really dated too badly. 

The big one followed. Late in 1971 David Bowie had also been signed by RCA, and he'd made a big deal about saying what an influence Lou Reed had been. The success of the Ziggy Stardust album convinced the RCA suits that Bowie had the magic touch, and, after the less than positive response to Lou Reed, it was decided that David should produce Lou's next record. In fact much of the production of Transformer was carried out by Bowie's guitarist, Mick Ronson, who also contributed the stunning string arrangements as well as playing guitar and piano. Transformer is a strange little record - on the one hand it has stone cold Lou Reed classics like "Walk On The Wild Side", "Perfect Day" and "Satellite Of Love" all of which sound just as fresh today as they did 40 years ago. But on the other hand there are a number of rather pedestrian rockers, such as "Wagon Wheel", and the truly bizarre, tuba-led "Goodnight Ladies". Whilst Transformer is often hailed as a peak of Lou's career, it's hard to see it as little more than a few decent songs, a few ok songs and a whole bunch of luck, being in the right place at the right time, with that year's hot new act behind the desk. It's not really part of the glam rock scene, despite being lumped in due to the Bowie connection, and, crucially, beyond a handful of shows where Lou slapped on the make up, he didn't embrace that scene at all. Lou's next move was something that no-one would have foreseen. He decided to create a concept album, a film for the ears he claimed. And it was to be a double album too!

But when Berlin was released it had become a simple single record, and it received a hugely negative reaction, which had a massive impact on Lou's relationship with the press for ever more.   

In the spring of 1973 Lou had recorded over an hour's worth of material for Berlin, but due to record company pressure he and producer Bob Ezrin were forced to edit the song cycle down to a more acceptable 45 minutes or so. Much of the orchestral work overseen by Ezrin was lost, many of the songs were trimmed, but the core of the album remained, and it wasn't pretty. In describing Caroline's journey from carefree socialite to suicidal junkie, Lou had indeed crafted a film for the ears, but it was a squalid, shocking film. There are moments of pleasure - the giddy whirl of the first "Caroline Says...", the inebriated swagger of "Lady Day", but by the time we reach side two it's despair all the way down until the astonishing redemptive chant of "Sad Song" which to my mind is nothing less than Caroline's departure from this earth to a better place. It's an extraordinarily brave set of songs, and a set which would be unbelievably depressing had the songs not been up to the job. But they are. Every one crackles with invention and cleverness and melodic twists and turns that absolutely grab the listener from the very beginning, and hold your attention to the very end. And just like with a good film,or an absorbing novel, the attentive audient is able to make it through the dark horrors of "The Kids" or the utter blanked out despair of "The Bed" because we have been drawn into the album and are desperate to know how it will end. It's extremely clever, literate, and above all, adult song writing, of the kind that Lou had been promising since the very beginning of the Velvet Underground. It's exactly the sort of continuation of songs like "Waiting For The Man" or "Heroin" that he should have been writing. “Caroline Says II” has that killer line, which Lou delivers so brilliantly - "You can hit me all you want / but I don't love you anymore". It's devastating writing. The level of numbed out pain present in that line is so awful. It's a terribly sad moment on a deeply emotional album.

But it was because it required the audience to think, to get involved, to use their emotions, to invest time and effort in the album, that it received terrible reviews. "The worst album by a major artist for many years" was one headline. Today this is baffling. There is a grown up audience for grown up music but back in 1973 pop music was fluffy ephemeral glam nonsense, and Lou's idea of a good record was nothing like that of anyone else. It went out of print for many years because RCA had no incentive to press a second run. Lou, of course, loved it, just as he always cites Metal Machine Music and The Bells as his favourites, perversely and precisely because they are so unrepresentative of his usual work. 

It's odd that Lou has never tried to restore Berlin. Maybe the missing parts are gone for good. Although it's still a fabulous album, and beautifully produced too, it would be fascinating to hear what it might have been.  

But the controversial reviews didn't bother Lou at the time as by mid 1973 he was starting his lengthy detour into hard drugs, and so little of anything bothered him at all. He played the Rock 'n' Roll Animal tour throughout Europe and the USA during the autumn and revelled in the madness of the tour. The final show was recorded and was released in two halves as Rock 'n' Roll Animal and Lou Reed Live over the next couple of years. Both are cracking albums. Nearly 40 years on this is still what live albums should sound like. It's such powerful music. There might be some very obvious bum notes at times and Lou fluffs words all over the place, but it's a great crowd, and the band give such energetic performances. The twin lead guitar attack of Steve Hunter and Dick Wagner is phenomenal and the melodramatic organ flourishes in songs like “Heroin” work incredibly well. Lou's singing is a bit variable at times but it fits with the music, which also wobbles alarmingly in places. Despite this being one of the last shows on the tour the drummer still has a real problem with the opening of “How Do You Think It Feels” - he can't seem to get that intro right. But so what? It's a storming album, a faithful account of a great concert.

Lou was on a slippery slope into serious drug dependency and wouldn't be this fired up on stage for many years. The next few years saw some amazing gigs and but also some truly terrible concerts, characterised largely by Lou raging around haranguing everyone in sight, or else virtually catatonic, being carried on stage and plonked in front of a mic. I have an interesting tape of a 1974 Australian show, which has an incredibly powerful “White Light / White Heat”, and a very weird “Heroin”, all spooky church organ effects, but Lou sounds seriously ill. Really not on this planet at all. The final number is a very odd acappella “Goodnight Ladies” that frankly would have scared the audience into going home...

In 1974 he recorded Sally Can't Dance which became one of his biggest selling albums. Lou found this incredibly amusing as he reckoned that his input into the record was minimal. Perhaps his next album would be an even bigger seller if he wasn't on it all, he wondered. Sally Can't Dance continues with the expansive Berlin sound, but with rather more obviously commercial appeal. The songs were snappier and catchier, though lyrically Lou was at his acerbic best, thus damning almost all the songs from ever being top forty hits.  

The mid 1970's were a terrible time for Lou on a personal basis - the drugs, his bizarre relationship with 'Rachel' - yet he continued to tour. In 1975 his drug habit was apparently so bad that he actually missed a few shows - the gigs continued with guitarist Doug Yule filling in for Lou. The audiences must have been pretty stoned too - allegedly no-one noticed...

Yet musically, even when it doesn't quite work, this mid 70’s work is always fascinating. There's a level of intensity that's missing from many of his other albums, and a sense that anything could happen. There's a tangible feeling of danger, of being on the edge, of listening to something created by someone you really wouldn't want to know...

Coney Island Baby is a very strange album. Ostensibly commercial, slickly produced, with catchy light songs – “Charley's Girl”, “Ooooh Baby”, “The Gift” (which is a really funny song, though it's a wonder it doesn't sink under the sheer weight of its hysterical self referential irony). But then you get the title track, which lyrically is fabulous and very personal and beautiful. Then there is “Kicks”. Possibly the nastiest song Lou had committed to record at this point. It's dreadfully violent and dispassionate, and the use of the party chatter, which slides in and out, is very disconcerting.

Rock'n'Roll Heart is another odd album. Even more lightweight than CIB, but often the songs have a dirtier, grimier side – “Temporary Thing” is very unsettling. “You Wear It So Well”, which is one of my favourites, has a definite air of desperation about it - the singer doesn't sound quite in control. The recent cd version of this version is one of the few cd remasters to have drastically improved the album. The weedy thin sound of my vinyl has been replaced by a crunching bassier ambience, which hugely improves the whole thing.

I have a great bootleg of a 1976 show with trumpeter Don Cherry guesting. Many songs are extended into jazzy jams and although they don't always quite come off, and the free jazz element of Cherry's playing doesn't always fit with the basic rock'n'roll of songs such as “Sweet Jane”, it's still a fascinating and thrilling set. The version of “Kicks” at this show really, er, kicks...

Street Hassle is possibly the oddest of the lot. The basis of nearly all the tracks is live recordings from a show in Germany in early 1977 where Lou played loads of new songs to a bemused German crowd. Some were played twice to ensure a good recording. Some of these tracks, “Leave Me Alone”, “I Wanna Be Black”, “Dirt” had been knocking around for a few years, but once the basic tracks had been weirdly overdubbed, the songs changed considerably. Others, like the totally out there version of “Real Good Time Together” took just the throbbing guitar part as the basis for the song and for Lou to put his vocals over. The full band was harshly faded in half way through. The vocal overdubs remind me of “Lady Godiva's Operation”, in that various levels and mix settings have been used to a disconcerting effect. However, throughout all the weirdness it sounds as if Lou is having great fun. Admittedly it’s a perverse sort of fun as the songs are mostly unpleasant, one chord dirges, with some tuneless harsh singing plonked on top. “Leave Me Alone” is especially hard to get through. Then there is the title track. A song of beauty and grace and delicacy. Totally out of place amongst the grime. One of Lou's most poetic lyrics, a story from the streets, and some unusually personal lines. Later live performances would significantly lose all the stuff about how 'she took the rings right off his fingers...' which at the time Lou candidly said was all true.

In early 1978 a residency at The Bottom Line in New York gave us the fabulous Take No Prisoners. Such a shame more recordings of these shows haven't been released. I love the Stereo Binaural sound on this album. It gives the live band a presence that really leaps off the turntable. The stories, the jokes, the fast snappy put-downs. And the music too. What a great band, able to twist and turn along with Lou's random deviations and flights of fancy. A wonderfully stirring “Coney Island Baby” is one of my favourite Lou tracks - that long ending is beautiful. An amazing “Street Hassle” is another highlight, as is the opening “Sweet Jane”, which kicks harder than any other version I've heard.

1979 - The Bells. Which I love. Can't totally explain why, but there's a great atmosphere on this album - the Stereo Binaural sound probably helps too. “City Lights” is delightful. “Stupid Man”, another of my all time favourite Lou songs, is such an infectious track. Side two is the real meat of the album. “All Through The Night” repeats the “Kicks” trick, by mixing in dialogue and chatter, though thankfully this time the lyrics aren't as scary. The repetitive sax riff is very strong, it really works. “Families” is another oddly personal and very very sad song - again the riff is unchanging which allows you focus on the impassioned lyrics more. Lou sounds on the verge of tears at a couple of points. “The Bells” - a great, if flawed sound poem. Allegedly the whole thing was improvised, including Lou's vocal. The early part of the song is a mess of sounds, guitar synths and trumpets, all descending chords and doom - but it does seem to come together at the vocal section. It's not perfect, bum notes are everywhere, but if this had been polished it wouldn't have sounded anywhere near as good.

A live set from Berlin 1979 contains an even weirder live version of “The Bells”. And some very extended songs – “I'll Be Your Mirror” runs to 12 minutes.... “Waiting For The Man” to nearly half an hour!

The final album this band produced was 1980's Growing Up In Public - a neat selection of short sharp mainly acidic songs. Lou had just met Sylvia who inspired a few rather soppy songs (“Love Is Here To Stay”.... for goodness sake...), and Lou stopped drinking. A few songs stand out – “How Do You Speak To An Angel” is wonderful, and “Standing On Ceremony” is great too, with Lou in character as a parent snapping - 'Please take your hat off!'

After this Lou cured all his addictions, and fully dried out, revamping his life and his band. The next album would be the superlative The Blue Mask, which basically set the template for all following Lou Reed albums - 2 guitars, bass, drums, all recorded crisply with the emphasis on the precision of the sound at the expense of the mood and feeling. The Blue Mask is truly great, but each subsequent album repeated this formula with diminishing returns. Occasional deviations (drum machines on Mistrial, infrequent uses of sax on Set The Twilight Reeling) didn't really alter the fact that the songs generally were weaker, and the interest level was decreasing.

Today it's apparent, to me at least, that The Blue Mask is the last thing of any great value that Lou worked on. There were little successes, such as the John Cale collaboration Songs For Drella, where the old spark returned, but in general Lou's work over the past 30 years has, for me, been progressively duller and less involving. Shame really.

rock 'n' roll animal - lou reed live in 1973

Lou Reed's Rock ‘n’ Roll Animal is simply a brilliant live album, but it could have been even better.

A few years ago I basically restored the whole gig into the proper song order by combining R’n’RA and Lou Reed Live. But even with the magic of CoolEdit it was a tricky job as, despite both albums coming from the same 21st December 1973 concert, the mix on Lou Reed Live is noticeably different to that on R’n’RA. I think actually that that Animal has received slightly more post production as the whole album sounds terrific compared with what are more likely the rawer tapes on Live. Lou Reed Live was an album that was quickly tossed out by RCA to make some money following the debacle of Metal Machine Music - they simply dug out tapes from a two year old gig and issued them in late 1975, and I can’t believe that anyone spent more than a few minutes working on Live.

Anyway CoolEdit and a few evenings’ work sorted out the differences in levels and smoothed over the audience transitions. I also had to flip the channels back on Live as, for reasons that no-one can explain, the stereo image is reversed compared with Animal. Guitarists Steve Hunter and Dick Wagner are rather neatly split into each speaker and their twin guitar attack is pretty spectacular at times. But Live has them the wrong way round. So I put it right.

Anyway, in the correct order, this is a stunningly good show. Lou is really on form - at times he’s perhaps a little, shall we say, over-excited, but on the whole he delivers a fine vocal performance. The band is just awesome. All of the musicians bar keyboard player Ray Colcord would decamp to Alice Cooper’s band in 1975. (Colcord is interesting – he’d previously been in Don Maclean’s band and plays on American Pie. Since the Lou Reed tour he’s composed hundreds of TV themes. 

Best track – the opening guitar wig out which then dives straight into "Sweet Jane" - that takes some beating. Though the super funky "Rock And Roll" is mighty fine too (it’s worth noting that much of the funkiness of Reed’s bands between 1973 and 1975 is down to bass player Prakash John – he was born in Bombay, but moved to Canada as a child and had worked alongside Bootsy Collins and George Clinton for a few years in the early 1970s, hence the funk).

In between, there are excellent renditions of Transformer tracks ("Walk On The Wild Side" is almost identical to the studio version but "Vicious" is a full on assault rather than the somewhat fey original), some slightly ragged attempts Berlin tunes (notably "Caroline Says" on which Lou attacks the song with rather more enthusiasm than accuracy, although the lengthy "Oh Jim" and "Sad Song" are both pretty spectacular), and some souped up blasts through Velvet Underground songs. Although the amped up take on "Waiting For The Man" is perhaps a little too over the top, the other Velvets tunes are superb. "White Light / White Heat" takes David Bowie's cover as its template and Lou reclaims the song as his own. "Heroin" is a real tour de force. Stunning organ work combines with the majestic guitars of Steve and Dick to create a song that is both terrifying and beautiful at the same time. As mentioned before the extended "Rock And Roll" is another masterpiece and is a wonderful conclusion to 90 minutes of Lou Reed at his very best.

The next few years would see Lou descend the depths of addiction and issue some wildly variable records (along with some worryingly schizophrenic concerts). When he was up to it the 1974 / 75 gigs could be brilliant, with Lou really delivering the goods onstage (despite the turmoil of his personal life), but there were just as many gigs where Lou was all but incapable of performing.

I have a cracking show from Paris in May 1974 - his singing and phrasing is spot on; he sounds like a man possessed and urges the band to really deliver as well. The Sydney gig from August 1974 is one of my favourites and a recording that I first got as a tape off Chelmsford market, back when I was still at school. It's a terrific gig, and a very decent recording too - there's a truly chilling and very spooky version of "Heroin" with a creepy organ dominating the song, a firey "Vicious" and a full on "White Light / White Heat" although it all ends with a very messy and ramshackle encore of "Rock And Roll" which sounds completely unrehearsed (but it was played as an encore at virtually every gig that year, so there's really no excuse!)

Lou Reed at his best was pretty much unbeatable.

  

lou reed - take no prisoners

In early 1977 Lou Reed witnessed a demonstration of a recording technique called Stereo Binaural, in which two microphones are used, arranged to create the same sort of 3D effect that your ears send to your brain. To facilitate this, the microphones were frequently placed above the ears of a dummy head. The result is a stunningly immediate sound which gives the impression that the listener is right in the middle of the action. As the full effect could only really be appreciated on headphones the technique was never of much interest beyond a small number of sound engineers, though today, with the ubiquitous use of headphones on iPods and the like, it's surprising that this method of recording hasn't had a resurgence. 

Lou Reed had always shown a strong interest in cutting edge sound and decided to experiment with the Stereo Binaural technique. He cut his new album Street Hassle at a small club in West Germany. The bemused audience were confronted with microphones everywhere and a set of almost entirely new songs, some of which were played a number of times to ensure a good recording. Their sporadic applause was carefully edited out and for many years no-one realised the Street Hassle was actually a live album. Some of these tracks such as “Leave Me Alone”, "Dirt" and the scabrously insulting, but subversively funny “I Wanna Be Black” had been knocking around for a few years, but once the live recordings had been overdubbed and and manipulated they changed enormously from the basic tracks that the German crowd would have heard. The weirdest of the lot was the totally out there version of “Real Good Time Together” which took just the throbbing guitar part as the basis for the whole song. Lou's wavery vocals were oddly overdubbed and then without warning the full band was harshly faded in half way through the song. However, throughout all the weirdness it sounds as if Lou is having great fun. Admittedly it’s a perverse sort of fun as the songs are sometimes unpleasant, one chord dirges, with some tuneless harsh singing plonked on top. “Leave Me Alone” is especially hard to get through. But then there is the title track, the only studio cut on the album. "Street Hassle" is a song of beauty and grace and delicacy. Totally out of place amongst the grime. One of Lou's most poetic lyrics, a story from the streets, and some unusually personal lines. Later live performances would significantly lose all the stuff about how 'she took the rings right off his fingers...' which, at the time, Lou candidly said was all true.

For such an experimental album it's perhaps strange that Street Hassle was so widely praised, especially as it was released at the height of punk. Lou declared himself happy with the new recording process but decided that he'd perhaps taken the audio manipulation too far, and that for his next album he wanted to capture his live band in all their glory with as little tweaking as possible. And what a great band it was too, able to twist and turn along with Lou's random deviations and flights of fancy. Reed was very fortunate that most of his band had been with him for some years and all were well honed in coping with any of Lou's frequent mood swings and on the hoof set changes. Lou chose his favourite New York club, the Bottom Line in the heart of Greenwich Village, to be the setting for his next record. This little club, all seated, with a capacity of only 400, also boasted an excellent sound system which pleased Lou no end.

He resumed touring in March 1978, playing a set which mixed the new Street Hassle songs, with obscurities from his back catalogue and a few Velvet Underground favourites for good measure. Fortunately a handful of these gigs from across the USA were recorded for radio broadcasts and all are equally strong shows. The band is superb following Lou's lead at every gig, stretching some songs to 20 minute epics, cutting short other tracks that aren't catching the audience's attention.

For the record the band was - 

Ellard "Moose" Boles - bass,

Marty Fogel - saxophone, 

Michael Fonfara - keyboards, 

Stuart Heinrich - guitar, vocals,

Michael Suchorsky - drums,  

with Chrissy Faith & Angela Howell on backing vocals.

Lou himself handled much of the guitarwork and also played his new discovery, a guitar synth.

The tour opened at the Bottom Line in early March 1978, but it was the shows booked there between 17th and 21st May that Lou had set up for recording. All the performances were captured on tape and the best songs were cherry picked for the double live album. The title Take No Prisoners originated at a Canadian gig early in the tour. A fan in the front row, who had perhaps overindulged, spent half the gig shouting 'Take no prisoners Lou, take no prisoners!!' over and over before he was eventually escorted from the theatre. Michael Fonfara was given the initial task of identifying the best performances - as the band was so consistent across all the gigs and the recording levels were set equally consistently for each show Fonfara proposed editing together the best bits from various performances to create the truly definitive version of each song. Everyone agreed that this would be great and the painstaking editing process was already underway before Lou changed his mind and declared that, as the original intention had been to capture the band exactly as they were on stage, he didn't want any studio trickery or clever editing after all.

As a result the ten tracks that spread across the four sides of vinyl (these are long songs, folks) consist not only of excellent musicianship, but also Lou's fast and furious stories, snappy put downs, jokes and one liners. In short there is as much talking as there is singing. Many tracks feature asides wherein Lou takes swipes at critics, club owners, fans, the audience, movies, the record business and even some of his contemporaries. (Perhaps surprisingly, even Patti Smith gets sniped at). No-one is safe from Lou's sarcasm and barbs. But, crucially, whatever he says is actually genuinely funny. These aren't simply insults as Lou gets his own back on the critics, but a severely witty commentary on the business he's found himself part of. Respected New York critic Robert Christgau took his dig in good humour, commenting that he didn't mind Lou having a go at him on record because Lou Reed had actually pronounced his surname correctly (something that was rarely done). At times Lou's onstage digressions took over the songs entirely. "Walk On The Wild Side" for instance features the band vamping the tune while Lou explains how he came to write "Walk On The Wild Side", potted histories of the various characters in the song plus his thoughts on such varied luminaries as Andy Warhol and Diana Ross. And the whole thing is so wonderfully entertaining that you don't realise that even though it runs for nearly 17 minutes they've only got as far as the first chorus.

But some songs are played straight. "Coney Island Baby" is the most powerful rendition of this classic that I've ever heard. There's a fantastically long drawn out ending as Lou and the girls repeat the 'glory of love' refrain over and over while Marty Fogel blows up a storm on his saxophone. It's incredibly emotional and exciting, and the Stereo Binaural recording is partly the reason, as you genuinely feel like you're part of the audience that night. The immediacy of the band, the clarity of the instruments, there's a palpable presence that leaps off the turntable and grabs you. The band are capable of playing oh so quietly and then, without breaking a sweat, suddenly charging like a locomotive at full speed. Listen to the gentle and delicate piano played by Michael Fonfara at the beginning of "Berlin" and then compare to the full on guitar, sax and pounding piano of just a few minutes later at the song's conclusion. This displays an amazingly strong grasp of the dynamics of the music. Playing these songs in a small club helped - a stadium sized PA doesn't allow for this sort of dynamic range, as everything has to be Spinal Tapped up to 11. But in a club, with a small audience, you can play quietly and tenderly and everyone will still hear. The version of "Pale Blue Eyes" clearly exhibits these quiet moments - guitar synth and keyboards take most of the tune as Lou tones down his vocal accordingly. But then a track such as "Leave Me Alone" opens up the throttle and the band are simply powering along for the whole piece, with no let up whatsoever.

Apart from my favourite, "Coney Island Baby", arguably the most impressive song on the album is "Street Hassle" which manages to keep the taut, elegant beauty of the original studio cut, whilst also adding an edgy unpredictable quality. The power of the bass and the guitar synth after Lou utters the words 'you know what it's called? Baaaaadd luck', is simply stunning. 

But it's the evergreen "Sweet Jane" that perhaps encapsulates the whole album. A sharp and clever mix of caustic one liners commenting obliquely on both the audience and the song itself, mesh seamlessly with the actual lyrics and the band keeps up with every word Lou is saying or singing. At one point Lou starts free associating and comes up with the phrase 'make believe love'. Quick as a flash he turns to Fonfara, 'Hey write that down Michael, Make Believe Love, that's an album title right there...' The band doesn't blink, the beat is solid and the riffs continue. Later a heckler shouts something fairly incomprehensible about writing a review and Lou immediately snaps back, 'if you write as good as you talk then no-one reads you'. This "Sweet Jane" also kicks harder than any other version I've heard. All the musicians are on such good form.

Released in November 1978 Take No Prisoners picked some pretty good reviews, with most commenting on the power of the band and the solidity of the music just as much as they focused on Lou's chatter. Reed himself later commented that perhaps the album should have been called Lou Reed Talks And Talks And Talks and later still he expressed the opinion that perhaps they should have gone with Fonfara's original idea of editing together excerpts from various performances after all, and cutting back on the patter. The initial plan was to showcase the band and perhaps the finished album doesn't quite let them roll as much as Lou would have wanted.

Considering that six or seven complete performances were recorded it's something of a shame that, apart from one unremarkable track on a box set, nothing else from these gigs has ever been issued. It seems to me that these Bottom Line shows marked something of a highpoint in Lou's live performances and to not issue a multi disc set comprising of the whole run of gigs is missing a marvellous opportunity to bring more of this fantastic music to the masses. But that's Lou Reed, an awkward old goat, a man who'll never do what's expected, or even what's sensible, sticking to his own stubborn path regardless of what anyone says. He may not have produced a decent album for over twenty years (and last year's team up with Metallica was quite possibly the most appalling recording he's ever been involved with), but there were twenty five years when he was bloody good (1965 - 1990), and as on Take No Prisoners he was frequently superbly brilliant and pretty much untouchable. 

white light / white heat - the velvet underground

White Light / White Heat is one noisy album. I remember first hearing it around 30 years ago and it was the very definition of 'mind blowing'. It was recorded around the same time as Sgt Pepper, but is the polar opposite of the Beatles' magnum opus.

Annie Nightingale played “The Gift” on her Sunday evening show, in stereo, (the spoken word story coming entirely from one speaker, the grind of the music entirely from the other) and I was enthralled.

But even with the bizarre introduction of “The Gift” I doubt I was ready for the whole album. The first side was weird enough – I knew the title track from the straight-ahead rock versions that Bowie did in the early 70’s, but the Velvet’s original is nothing like that. It’s just under three minutes of distortion and a brilliant mess of speed influenced madness and truly dreadful acoustics. The track creates a heavy oppressive mood, mainly via the compressed and distorted recording itself.

“The Gift” - that bizarre story of Waldo Jeffers mailing himself to his girlfriend totally captivated me and the grunging music powering along on it’s own in the other channel was amazing. John Cale's laconic delivery only adds to the otherworldliness of it all.

“Lady Godiva’s Operation” – a sinister song containing some bizarre vocal effects. The plan was to have Lou, Sterling and John take turns with alternating lines, but to have each line dovetail smoothly with the next. However, technical difficulties meant that each vocal ended up differing and jarring weirdly with the others - it's these disquieting changes in tone and volume that actually give the song its unique edge, but it was purely accidental.

Side one with the lovely “Here She Comes Now” – a thankfully peaceful and dreamy two minutes which does nothing to prepare the listener for side two.

“I Heard Her Call My Name”. the frantic but basic rock'n'roll strum of the verses is trampled to death by the frightening wall of noise that Lou's guitar creates! After the comment ‘And then my mind split open’ the shrieks and squeals of Lou Reed’s ‘solo’ are surely some of the most incredible and totally 'out there' sounds ever recorded. It's tremendously exciting, utterly terrifying, deafeningly hideous and brilliantly played - all at the same time.

And then you get 17 minutes of “Sister Ray” - the word relentless is by far the best one to describe "Sister Ray". It powers along like an unstoppable locomotive, instruments rise and fall depending on the who turned their amps up the most, Cale's organ actually burns itself out at one point as if utterly exhausted by trying to keep up. At the root of it all is Mo Tucker's rock solid drumming. She had such an assured sense of rhythm and an unerring ability to keep an absolute beat. This makes "Sister Ray" a great song for listening to on an iPod - the relentless beat makes you march along at quite a pace (which has surely got to be good for you). All that distortion and leakage and organs burning up and screams of feedback are just a fabulous bonus.

There’s a great story about the recording of this song. The Velvets plugged in and the engineer tried to set the levels. Lou told him -

“Turn everything right up to the max.”

“OK,” was the doubtful answer from the engineer, “but how long is the song?”

“No idea, we’ll just play until we’ve had enough.”

So they did. 17 minutes later one of the most distorted songs ever recorded was done. And it brings to a close an album that is quite unlike any other album, before or since.