When the Velvet Underground released their eponymously-titled third album in March, 1969, it peeled off much of the audience the band had managed to acquire up to this point. For fans who had enjoyed the cacophonous bang of "White Light/White Heat," the album preceding "The Velvet Underground," the third album must have sounded like a major whimper.

Looking back now, seeing the big picture from the view of the omniscient narrator that I am, it's crystal clear that the high-quality songwriting Reed displays here continues the tradition he started on the group's debut, "The Velvet Underground & Nico." Although musical innovator John Cale is absent from this record, having been fired from the group by Reed in September, 1968, "The Velvet Underground," like the debut album, has the consistent quality and organic feel of a group effort.

While playing at the Boston Tea Party, that city's hippy-rock bastion and the Velvets' home away from home, lead guitarist Sterling Morrison noticed that an acquaintance of his, Doug Yule from the Boston band The Grass Menagerie, had made steady strides in his guitar-playing skills. Thus, the group drafted Yule to fill the gap left in the band with Cale's departure. Yule had many qualities which made him fit well in this position. He was not only talented on several instruments, including guitar, bass, and keyboards, but he also had a sweet, youthful, exuberant voice that worked well for the group's Nico-type songs such as "I'll Be Your Mirror." Most important of all, Yule did not challenge Reed's authority, at least not during the recording of this album.


Beginning to See the Lou, "The Velvet Underground" Track-by-Track

There are two different mixes of this record available in the States. The original vinyl releases have a mix, done by Reed, which accentuates his vocals and puts the musical tracks slightly further in the background. Reed's mix, dubbed "the closet mix" by Sterling Morrison because he felt it made the songs sound like they were recorded in a closet, is also used on 1995's "Peel Slowly and See" box set, which includes every song from every one of the VU's studio albums as well as numerous demos, outtakes, and live tracks. On the CD re-releases of "The Velvet Underground," there's a slightly snappier mix, with Reed's vocals a little less prominent. This mix is generally called the Valentin mix for Val Valentin, the engineer who created it. I guess Valentin thought it was time for Lou to come out of the closet mix.


Candy Says

Doug Yule's sweet (some might even say syrupy), Beatlesque lead vocal actually works well for the album's opening song, a sympathetic portrait of drag queen Candy Darling. Perhaps this is the same Candy "from out on the Island" who turned up in "Walk on the Wild Side" from Lou's 1972 album "Transformer," the same person of whom Reed sang "...in the back room she was everybody's darling/ But she never lost her head/ Even when she was giving head." I've always wondered how that single (flipside, "Vicious") made it past the censors to become an AM Top-40 hit, though it's supposed to have something to do with a night shift fill-in DJ on the BBC's Radio One.

You might know Candy Darling, by the way, from actor Stephen Dorff's portrayal in the movie "I Shot Andy Warhol," directed by Mary Harron. The real-life Candy Darling died in 1975, due to her use of injected hormones.

Over gently overdubbed guitar chords and lead-guitar melody lines, with a loping-yet-propulsive drum part from Tucker, Reed's lyrics let us get inside the skin of the drag queen: "Candy says, I've come to hate my body/ And all that it requires, in this world/ Candy says, I'd like to know completely/ What others so discretely, talk about/ I'm going to watch, the bluebirds fly/ Over my shoulder/ I'm going to watch, them pass me by/ Maybe when I'm older/ What do you think I'd see/ If I could walk away from me?"

This song even pays a glancing tribute to T.S Eliot's "Lovesong of J. Alfred Prufrock": "Candy says/ I hate the big decisions/ That cause endless revisions/ In my mind." Was it perfume from a dress that made Lou so digress? The song fades out with a series of "doo-doo-wahs," just in case the diabetes-inducing guitar tracks and Yule's sugary lead vocals didn't make it clear that Reed was going to indulge his pop-music inclinations.


What Goes On

Is it just me, or does the opening guitar riff in this song sound the same as the beginning of Jefferson Airplane's "Volunteers"? The lyrics here are classic Reed. They don't quite make sense, in a rational way, but, using words like an Impressionist painter uses dots of color, they convey a sense of the songwriter's high-flying state of mind as Lou performs the lead vocal: "I'm going up and I'm going down, I'm gonna fly from side to side/ See the bells up in the sky/ Somebody's cut the string in two/ Lady be good, do what you should/ You know it will work alright/ Lady be good, do what you should/ You know it'll be alright."

The guitar break, starting at 1:07, sounds cool and modern. Either overdubbed, or playing live, the dual-guitar lines echo the melody of the chorus here and have a rich sound, ringing with harmonics. This sinuous lead break runs on to 2:12, after which Lou launches into a couple more verses, and then there's an intertwining part where the rhythm guitar riff chimes along, buoyed up by layers of organ chords. This basic structure carries the song to the close at 4:37. The Velvets frequently used "What Goes On" in their live shows.


Some Kinda Love

The closet mix of this song is actually a different vocal take. For example, on the closet mix Lou sings "some kindsa love," while on the Valentin mix it's "some kinda love." Lou also has a more desperate, sex-starved quality in his vocals on the closet mix (ya know, it's frustrating being in the closet. Okay. Sorry. No more closet jokes). Also, the closet mix running time is 3:35 while the Valentin mix running time is 4:00.

The song opens with a driving-yet-tense feel, with sharp guitar licks climbing over Tucker's metronome-like cowbell beat. As is appropriate for a song which touches upon sexual frustration, as well as sexual freedom and exploration, the basic structure is one of a series of verses, which build tension right through to the fade out. There are no choruses to let you catch your breath here. This song contains Reed's famous line: "Between thought and expression, there lies a lifetime."

It also contains these lines: "Put jelly on your shoulder/ Let us do what you fear most/ That from which you recoil/ Oooooooh, but which still makes your eyes moist/ Put jelly on your shoulder/ Lie down upon the carpet/ Between thought and expression/ Let us now kiss the culprit/ I don't know just what it's all about/ Put on your red pajamas and find out." Sure, Lou can get away saying "Let us now kiss the culprit," but most of us would get slapped for that line.

As with many of the songs on this record, the instrumentation on "Some Kinda Love" is very stripped down, with a single percussion element, either a steady cowbell (gimme more cowbell, baby!) or a bass drum beat, combined with a basic guitar part. These simplified arrangements enhance the tone of emotional immediacy which permeates the record.


Pale Blue Eyes

There's no percussion here, other than Tucker keeping the beat with a tambourine. It's all gently-pulsing bass lines and lilting guitar melodies. Lyrically, the song resonates quite a bit with "I'll Be Your Mirror" from the VU's first album: "If I could make the world as pure, and strange as what I see/ I'd put you in the mirror, I'd put in front of me, I'd put in front of me/ Linger on, with your pale blue eyes."

Speaking of "I'll Be Your Mirror," this song sounds like it might refer to Teutonic princess Nico, the part-time singer from the Velvets debut record. However, Reed says the woman who inspired it actually had hazel eyes. This is another song the Velvets used frequently in their live shows. Nico herself actually ended up doing a pretty well-known cover of this tune.


Jesus

At the time this record was released, one rock critic said, "The Velvet Underground has gone from heroin to Jesus." Actually, Lou mentioned "Jesus' son" in the song "Heroin" from the VU's debut album, so it's not quite the radical evolution that some would have you think.

Musically, the group uses a dual-guitar approach again here, with the rhythm chords playing on the right stereo channel and lead guitar fill notes on the left. The vocal tracks are similarly split, with Lou's lead vocal on the right and Yule's backing vocal on the left. Both guitar parts are soft and melodic, as befits the lyrics with their theme of spiritual rebirth: "Jesus, help me find my proper place/ Help me find my weakness, ‘cause I'm falling out of grace." Taken at face value, these lyrics might make you think Lou had been sucked into some hardcore bible study, but I think he's using Jesus as a figurative representation of spirituality. This is the last song on side one (or just Track 5 on CD).


Beginning to See the Light (6)

This is by far my favorite song of this record, a standout among a set of excellent tunes. The song pulls no punches, opening right up with a bar of highly-propulsive, acoustic rhythm-guitar chord changes. Lou doesn't long delay the lead vocal here, jumping in halfway through the first bar: "Well I'm beginning to see the light."

In addition to having that great, chugging, rampaging rhythm part, set out with the acoustic guitar chord changes, this ebullient song has some of the best Reed lyrics, such as: "Wine in the morning, and some breakfast at night/ Well I'm beginning to see the light." Ever have one of those "wine in the morning and some breakfast at night" kind of days?

Reed also communicates a newfound sense of self-acceptance: "I met myself in a dream/ I just wanna tell you everything was all right." Reed's lyrics, and the style in which he delivers them, give this song a feeling of immediacy and urgency, as if he has an important message he has to tell you right now.

There's one line in the song which rubs me the wrong way a bit: "There are problems in these times/ But ooooooh, none of them are mine." Considering all the people Reed's age who were getting shipped off to Vietnam, this seems like a cavalier line to include in a song. I'm sure it was a very honest expression of Reed's feelings on current events, but it just doesn't strike me as the most admirable sentiment.


I'm Set Free (7)

This song has a pretty, melancholy, minor-key feel. The lyrics speak of the empty promise of liberation: "I've been blinded but now I can see/ What in the world has happened to me/ The prince of stories who walks right by me, and now/ I'm set free, I'm set free/ I'm set free to find a new illusion."

The lyrics are also interesting when viewed in terms of Cale's departure from the band, and the fact that, while this personnel change would allow Reed to pretty much have his way with the group's creative direction, it also meant Lou would have to soldier on without his main musical collaborator. The one-string guitar melody starting at 2:15 has a nice, quavering feel, like a raw emotional nerve.


That's the Story of My Life

Part of the fun of Lou Reed songs is guessing which real life person they're about. On this song, I'd guess it's Billy Name (Billy Linich), the official, in-house photographer of Andy Warhol's Factory. As is usual with Reed's body of songwriting work, the Billy character would turn up again later, in the song "Billy" one of Reed's 1970's solo albums.

The song has a casual, almost-goofy feeling, with bouncy guitars, bass, and percussion bopping along to a midtempo groove.

Lyrically, there's just a single verse, sung three times: "That's the story of my life/ That's the difference between wrong and right/ But Billy said, both those words are dead/ That's the story of my life." That's the story of "That's the Story of My Life."


The Murder Mystery

If anybody was worried that the Velvets had totally left their avant-garde roots behind with this record, "The Murder Mystery" must have helped to somewhat cushion their disappointment.

This nine-minute beat-poetry magnum opus features spoken-word contributions from all four members of the group. The recitation comes in sets. First Reed and Morrison do a set of abstract lyrics, with Reed's vocal coming from the right speaker and Morrison's from the left. Then Yule and Tucker do a little sing-speak section, likewise coming from the right and left speakers, respectively.

Here's an excerpt of one of Sterling's sections: "Contempt, contempt, and contempt for the boredom/ I shall poison the city and sink it with fire/ for Cordless and Harry and Apepig and Scissor/ the messenger's wig seems fraught with desire/ ....a stray in this fray is no condom worth saving."

This is one of the parts that Reed sings: "Contempt, contempt, and contempt for the seething/ for writhing and reeling and two-bit reportage/ ... the inverse obverse converse reverse of inverse/ The diverse and converse of reverse and perverse/ And sweet pyrotechnics and let's have another/ .... hello graveyard is damned as they chew on their brains/ The slick and the scum inverse reverse and perverse."

Yule and Tucker's parts are done in a part-singing, part-speaking style, with Yule very good as he croons "Mr. Moonlight" and Tucker sounding quite eerie as she intones "exit the pigs" and "isn't it sweet, being unique?"

Amazingly, "The Murder Mystery" actually works pretty well. As you can see from the sample of the lyrics here, the literal meaning of the words is rather abstract. However, as your brain attempts to assimilate the colorful flow of words coming from the stereo channels, the song starts to take on a surrealistic significance.

As you read this description, the song might sound like a long, boring, extended stab at whacked-out bohemian poetry. However, Reed's musical arrangement, along with the rotating cast of vocal characters, keep things interesting. The rhythm parts slow down and speed up, as do the lyrics. Little bits of organ and piano melody, spooky and mellow by turns, are thrown in here and there, keeping the whole song from bogging down. It works at least as well, if not better, than something like "The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway" by Genesis.

That being said, those listening on CD players might occasionally be tempted to program out Track Nine.


Afterhours

This is one of the rare occasions in the recording history of the VU that drummer Moe Tucker got to take a lead vocal. Reed says he wrote this song specifically for Tucker. Her singing has a childlike, direct quality, similar in delivery style to some of Jonathan Richman's work. Word has it that Tucker was so shy about singing that it was necessary to remove everybody but Reed and the engineer from the studio while she recorded the song: "One two three.../ If you close the door/ The night could last forever/ Leave the wineglass out/ And drink a toast to never/ Oh, someday I know/ Someone will look into my eyes/ And say hello/ You're my very special one/ But if you close the door/ I'd never have to see the day again."


Final Thinkage -- Genius is Never Recognized in its Time

By the time the Velvets recorded the third album, Cale was out of the band and Reed was in control and shooting for a record that had commercial potential. In light of Reed's hopes for this record, it's ironic that "The Velvet Underground" sold worse than either of the two VU records which had preceded it. Perhaps, coming after the noise-rock statement "White Light/White Heat," this album was just too much of a left turn, albeit a lovely, tuneful left turn.

At this point in the Velvet's career, the record company had moved the band from its Verve jazz subsidiary label to the main MGM Records label. The company didn't publicly release any singles from "The Velvet Underground." That can't have helped sales much. A promotional single with a truncated version of "What Goes On" (2:40), with "Jesus" on the B-side (sounds like a good name for a group), was sent to radio stations concurrently with the release of the record in March, 1969.

In the days of vinyl, singles played a major role in record sales. With 45's selling for less than a dollar (I think back in the late 60's it was around fifty cents), singles provided an affordable way for cash-strapped teenagers to own the music of their favorite groups. In light of this, it's amazing that MGM didn't release any singles, especially with so many strong tunes to pick from.

Not only "What Goes On," but "Beginning to See the Light" and "Pale Blue Eyes" could have easily cracked the singles charts. While these songs don't have a totally mainstream sound, they are very catchy. Besides, Top 40 AM in the late 1960's had a tradition of occasionally letting somewhat unorthodox singles make it past the gatekeepers. It wouldn't have taken more than a couple shots of radio exposure to get people hooked on these songs.

Recommended: Yes

Great Music to Play While: Getting ready to go out