Retro Reviews: The Velvet Underground: White Light / White Heat

     I decided to launch a new series to imagine myself as a critic at the end of the 60s and start of the 70s, and to rectify certain reviews from Rolling Stone magazine and Creem. This not meant to be contrarian, but to offer a more balanced perspective. All the albums reviewed are indeed classic albums.

The Velvet Underground: White Light / White Heat (1968)

****

Producer: Tom Wilson

Musicians: Lou Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, Maureen Tucker

Songs: White Light / White Heat, The Gift, Lady Godiva’s Operation, Here She Comes Now, I Heard Her Call My Name, Sister Ray

Reviewed by Matthew Anthony Allair

    After the departure of Andy Warhol as a creative presence, and the departure of Nico, The Velvet Underground stand at an interesting cross-roads, can they manage a follow up to their debut from last year? What other interesting ideas do they have to offer. For that small percentage of people who listened in 67, their debut album was a shock to the system, it didn’t have the sensibility of California and it didn’t have any aesthetic like the British rock scene, it was unique. It is ironic that Verve Records, a label known for jazz innovation, would risk supporting bands like the Velvet’s or Zappa’s Mothers of Invention that stand in stark contract to their past, and yet both acts are truly innovative.

    For the bulk of the opening track and name sake, “White Light / White Heat” it manages to be accessible until it trails off at the very end, and should be the bell weather that this is going to be different, if not aa little difficult. The lyrics to “The Gift” is delivered as a spoken tone people behind a heavy two chord riff that evolves, the prose sounds like it’s taken from some semi experimental novel. “Here She Comes Now” is probably the second most accessible track alongside the title track, and it’s probably too short.

    The second half opens with the frantic “I Heard Her Call My Name”, parts of it sound like some R&B rave up. Yet Sterling’s feedback laced lead guitar jumps into some strange atonal and modal jumps. The final track “Sister Ray” opens with a heavy groove, and due to it’s sprawling ambition moves into interesting directions, Cale’s viola is about as distorted as the guitars, he also jumps to a Vox Organ to add coloring. Sterling’s guitar wails and trades with Cales Organ, the instrument’s distortion blurs into another. Before you are even half way through the organ sounds even more out there than anything Manzerek has attempted with the Doors, and that isn’t meant to diminish The Doors, just that the Velvet’s are reaching something that the Doors has been striving for. The lyrics are indeed gritty and crass and they don’t reflect person’s who are to be idealized. Once you are past the half way point “Sister Ray” sounds unrelenting. The noise of the organ and Sterling’s lead is chaotic. Something should be said about Maureen Tucker’s drumming, which while never elaborate, is steady and she serves the goals of the other players.

    This album isn’t as shocking for me as it might be for others, if you have followed the evolution of the free jazz movement from Ornette Coleman to John Coltrane. Or even the work of artist Gutav Metzger, there’s merit in the idea of noise as its own form of expression. The album seems to be attempting to break down the barriers of what is possible with rock music, and Lous Reed is such an astute lyric writer and observer of human nature – even when that nature is on the darker side. I could see the Velvet’s being a significant band for those who are receptive to it, and I could see others following their lead moving forward. This won’t be for everyone, but worth a few listens, and for the patient, something that could be captivating. Recommended.