“In the history of rock & roll, the only artists to rival the influence of The Velvet Underground are The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and Bob Dylan. [...] (they) essentially invented underground rock. [...] The Velvets’ revolutionary sound—now so routinely imitated that its originality is impossible to convey—emerges from the war between (Lou) Reed’s knowledge of pop songcraft and (John) Cale’s avant-garde training.”
—Anthony DeCurtis, music critic for Rolling Stone
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Truth be told, I do not think I can succinctly explain The Velvet Underground—and their significance within the sphere of modern rock—better than what DeCurtis wrote above.[1] But I will try nonetheless. The best way that I can sum up the importance of The Velvet Underground, and to try to capture the essence of their originality, is this:
While everyone else in 1967 was writing love songs, trippy songs, trippy songs about love, or trying to emulate the Beatles, the Stones, Dylan, or Hendrix as best as they could, The Velvet Underground were writing songs about sadomasochism, scoring heroin, prostitution, and the desperation and loneliness of partygoers. They are the progenitors of punk.
And on top of all that, you have the simple reality that there will never be another band like The Velvet Underground again. Ever. Why? Because, mostly, there will never be another Andy Warhol again. I am sure that if you dig deep and far enough you will find some bands and musicians—probably some in NYC too—that were singing songs about dark subject matter (such as heroin or black angels of death) before or around the time that the Velvet’s released their groundbreaking debut The Velvet Underground & Nico. But The Velvet Underground were the only band that included a German model; the only band that Andy Warhol selected to be his house band at The Factory; the only band to include an electric viola player; the only band that had two really large—and oftentimes diametrically opposed—personalities in Lou Reed and John Cale; the only band that Warhol produced an album for; the first band that Warhol produced an album cover for. As you can see, there were quite a lot of proverbial stars that aligned for the band and, thus, why we will probably never see anyone like them ever again.[2] The other unique wrinkle tied to the Velvets is that even with all of the built-in popularity that being associated with Warhol should have garnered, they wound up becoming the Van Gogh of rock.[3] The Velvet Underground & Nico is similar to The Starry Night in that both were completely misunderstood during their release but became unquestioned masterpieces after some time had passed.
The first two Velvet albums were assaulting and avant-garde; their final two albums were lyrically driven, classically structured, and more listener-friendly. Their musical catalog is a dichotomy of experimentation and sonic noise and an exploration into songwriting that could arguably be seen as the roots of modern power pop. So, which song is the one worthy of the Pantheon? “Sister Ray,” the 17+ minute cornucopia of raw power? “Sweet Jane,” the song that garnered a retroactive audience after the cover by The Cowboy Junkies? “All Tomorrow’s Parties,” the best song that Nico recorded? “Some Kinda Love,” arguably one of the best songs that Lou Reed wrote? In terms of sheer creativity and from the standpoint of this song best encapsulates the band and best encapsulates their avant-garde ability I think that “Heroin” is The Velvet Underground’s Pantheon song.
Listening to music, especially when we are young, can be akin to religious experience. And in many respects “Heroin” is not merely a song, but an experience. In some ways it is very much like the scene in Clockwork Orange when Malcolm McDowell is strapped to a chair which includes little metallic arms that force his eyes to be open, except in auditory form. Musically, this song attempts to mimic the frenetic pacing of someone on heroin: the mellow parts make minimal use of Reed’s guitar and Cale’s viola, the crazy and paranoid parts—almost always foreshadowed by Reed’s lyrics explicitly referencing the act of shooting up—become faster and faster until Maureen Tucker’s drums sound like a heartbeat that’s about to explode and Cale’s viola becomes a car bomb of jagged scratching.
To be sure, none of this adds up to something that a casual rock listener would probably like. But this is where the “experience” aspect comes in. I would submit that there are some songs that simply need to be listened to in the right environment in order to be properly digested. “Heroin,” I believe, is the type of song that should be listened to with headphones on in a dark room. Really experience the song. Be jack-knifed by the sudden movements. Fully absorb the contrast of Reed’s lyrics that range from the dreamy (“I wish that I was born a thousand years ago”) to the desperately blunt (“I’m gonna try to nullify my life”). Listen to how Reed stretches the word heroin to sound like an elongated “hair-row-win.”
You could certainly make a case for a number of Velvet Underground songs to be the lone song for this site. But what puts “Heroin” over the top for me is that no one else could have ever made a song like this, and no one has ever really tried. This song kind of exists on its own plane.
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[1] Personal side note: DeCurtis’s writings about albums from the ’60′s made me want to be a writer, and it planted the seeds for what would become the music-related sites that I started.
[2] To be sure, we will never see another Beatles either but the story of The Beatles (four self-taught musicians who go from being poor to superstars) is a story that will frequently be duplicated in the future. But the story of a band whose debut album included a German model and was produced by the most famous artist of his day and said band never became popular during their time? That story won’t ever be duplicated.
[3] The similarities between The Velvet Underground and Vincent Van Gogh are pretty fascinating, even aside from the fact that they hardly sold any of their art while they were together/alive. One, both artists were temporarily closely tied to other more famous artists (the Velvet’s with Warhol, Van Gogh with Paul Gauguin). And, two, both artists’ final works were bleak (the last song on the last album by the Velvet’s, Loaded, is called “Oh! Sweet Nuthin’”; Van Gogh’s last painting is Wheat Field With Crows).
