The Velvets

 

A recent reading somewhere in the wilds of the internet revealed a disgruntled rock and roller who wondered why 60s icons The Velvet Underground are considered important at all, expressing finally that she considered the famous Andy Warhol "banana" cover debut album to be wildly overrated. I harumphed, muttered something about youth being wasted on the young and then then composed the following paragraph, less a defense than rant . Note the absence of album titles or the names of songs; the paragraph is aimed , I guess, at those who know what I'm talking about and are able to fill in the missing details. 

The first Velvets album was an absolute masterpiece, created almost by accident—simply by the band becoming itself and crafting the kind of avant-noise it would be known for. While American and British rock were growing increasingly arty, instrumentally ambitious, and philosophically poetic—driven by a belief that the future belonged to the younger generation and that future was utopian—the Velvets begged to differ. Not so much begged, in fact, as simply were different: in musical interests, background, and general worldview. California bands leaned into the idea of unlimited space and freedom to do your own thing. European bands drew heavily on centuries of culture and musical legacy, blending blues and Chuck Berry into their evolving sound. But the Velvets were formed in cramped New York City, with a population estimated at 17,843,000 at the time—a crowded center of industry, commerce, and culture. It was full of lawyers, CEOs, eccentrics, junkies, prostitutes, and splintered underground experimentalists—a pressure cooker fueled by speed, heroin, and a street-level deadpan. The city was noisy, galvanic, violent, in-your-face twenty-four hours a day. The only response was to make a noise of your own, a sonic mask against the relentless collapse of the surrounding world.There was little interest—or use—for singing about peace and good vibes. New York gave you all the vibes you could handle—and couldn’t handle—whether you wanted them or not, all at once. The songs were about the world the band emerged from: suicide, drug addiction, gay life in a society that wished gay people would vanish quickly. The music was minimalist and primitive—purposefully and effectively so.Lou Reed instinctively reversed course from his prior work as a hack songwriter. He rejected blather and incoherent poesy, offering the Velvets lyrics that were blunt, spare, and aimed to reflect the raw truth of a world far removed from Laurel Canyon or other bastions of pampered art-making.