How in the World Were They Making That Sound?

Nothing like a good rock & roll apprenticeship. Just as the Beatles wouldn’t have been the Beatles without Hamburg, I bet the Velvets wouldn’t have been the Velvets if Lou Reed hadn’t first spent months working for a marginal record company called Pickwick, “literally locked in a room writing songs” in an effort to manufacture some get-rich-quick single. He didn’t, but he probably got lots of practice in finding out which key and chord changes create certain desired physiological effects.

One of the songs he came up with is thought to be his first co-composition with John Cale. It was released on a Pickwick 45 credited to “The All Night Workers,” but was soon afterward covered by the Downliners Sect over in England. That version, a much heavier stomp, became the definitive one and has in turn been covered a few times (ie by Billy Childish). Right now my fave of the versions I’ve heard is this one, by a retro San Francisco San Diego (thanks to commenter) band of the late 1970s. The beat is sped up, the rhythm section is hopping around, and you can hear the guitar strings bending.

• The Crawdaddys, “Why Don’t You Smile Now” (buy here)

But this version, from the early 1990s, is way cool too. Slow it down, sing it all seductive like, and rev up the psychedelic guitar churn for the chorus.

• Spiritualized, “Why Don’t You Smile Now” (buy here)

But back to the Velvets. Of course, patiently unfurling some vaguely rock & roll noise for an hour at a time while Warhol movies are playing on top of you and people are dancing around with whips in front of you is a whole other kind of apprenticeship.

• The Velvet Underground, “The Nothing Song” (with the Exploding Plastic Inevitable, Columbus, Ohio, November 1966 – 29:35, very large file)

When you go beyond the original/canonical four studio albums to the live stuff – especially the bootleg live stuff – it's a blast to learn just how expansive & generous a band the Velvets were. The long boogie jams, the ambient sound sculptures, and oh, oh, “Sweet Sister Ray,” a pretty marathon meander that they cooked up as a preface to one of their loudest & nastiest tracks. They contained multitudes.

• The Velvet Underground, “Sweet Sister Ray” (Cleveland, Ohio, April 1968, 39:22 – very, very large file)

I found the book pictured above in a store in Paris a few years ago, Shakespeare & Co., I think. As happy as I am to own it, I must admit I have no interest in actually turning its pages. Oh, and the post title is courtesy of this:

• Jonathan Richman, “Velvet Underground” (buy here)