Customer Reviews
VU's finest moment 
2008-07-30
This album narrowly edge Loaded as VU's finest album? Why? Nico. Her haunting vocal are so different from Reed's but they compliment each other so well. The songs are experimental enough that it's interesting but not too experimental that it's unlistenable.
1. "Sunday Morning" 5/5
2. "I'm Waiting for the Man" 4/5
3. "Femme Fatale" 5/5
4. "Venus in Furs" 3/5
5. "Run Run Run" 3/5
6. "All Tomorrow's Parties" 4/5
7. "Heroin" 5/5
8. "There She Goes Again" 5/5
9. "I'll Be Your Mirror" 4/5
10. "The Black Angel's Death Song" 2/5
11. "European Son" 3/5
Excellent music, horrible mastering 
2008-07-30
The cd contains the a remastered edition of the original album. I don't know what the engineers had in mind, but the remastered edition makes my ears bleed. The sound volume has been boosted to a way too high volume and results in completely distorted music. Some of the songs are totally unlistenable. Sure, the loudness of the original album is much less than most current releases, but this is no excuse to change that.
To conclude: the cd is no remastered edition, but a mismastered edition of this great album.
I Have Made A Big Decision To Nullify My Life. 2008-06-29
I can say in one sentence why I love this album, but that sentence needs about forty more sentences giving some fundamental cultural history background to clarify its deeper meaning. So please bear with me as I work my way up to my one sentence.
Everyone who knows anything about the cultural history of the USA knows that the roots of rock and roll music are mostly outgrowths of African-American rebellion and cultural expression. There is some intertwining of these African-American roots with purely European-American rural cultural roots that kept early rock and roll from being purely African-American music, but there is no doubt that the slavery-originating rebelliousness and cultural expression of African-Americans is the Ur-root that jazz and blues and then rock and roll mostly grew out of. And one of the things that distinguished this music from more "highbrow" American and European music was how oriented it was by PHYSICAL experience. Rock and roll is very physical music in the sense that part of its point is to get an emphatically physical response from the performer and the listener. It's not that classical music (or the watered-down forms of popular music that derive from it) induces no strong physical response in its devoted listeners, but this physical response is guided and controlled by what is considered the deeper "spiritual" qualities of that music. But because of the African-American experience there was a heavy emphasis on physical release, on a kind of physical inhibition and "freedom." It's not that the music has no non-tangible qualities, but rather that everything is focused into a very physical expression. This is not surprising when you consider the negative physical quality of existence in African-American history. And it is no accident that the European-American culture that could relate to African-American culture and partially blend with it was that of the rural and urban poor. There was a radical need here to "shake off," and find liberation from, a kind of deep physical alienation as well as mental and spiritual discomfort. This physical alienation clearly came from a negative quality of physical life. One can in a sense shut down one's mental and spiritual aspirations and still go on living on a more animal level, but when this oppression includes physical oppression then there is nothing left but rebellion or utter despair and death. And let me note that I am fully aware of the fact that native African music and all forms of primal folk music are already more physical than European classical music, but the physical nature of rock and roll has a peculiar rebellious and alienated quality that does not exist in native forms of music. And it is absolutely no accident or mere coincidence that a physical form of escape like the non-medicinal use of narcotics and other drugs (including alcohol) is so prevalent in the history of jazz, blues, and rock and roll music. There were many modern classical music artists in the 20th century, such as Bartok and Berg, who were highly intelligent and radically rebellious artists, but one finds no trace among these artists of the kind of need for physical escape that is revealed by the drug and alcohol use among jazz, blues, and rock and roll artists. I would add that the level of deafening sound volume that rock and roll eventually reached is also part of this pattern. And finally we have the fact that eventually even many kids from high-income backgrounds expressed a mental and spiritual alienation reduced down to a purely physical need that they tried to meet by participation in the rock and roll cultural revolution that had its original roots in the experiences of African-American slaves and European-American economic outcasts. These privileged rich white kids spiritually identified, whether it was realized or not, with humans who had come to be casually and familiarly known as poor niggers and white trash. My goodness, where did all this alienation with a physical face come from?
So all this finally brings us to Lou Reed and VU. We can focus here by asking the question of why we would and should still be interested in a once-obscure rock and roll album that is 40 years old and whose high point is a song about self-willed human nullification through heroin addiction. The answer to our question lies hidden in the fact that this cornerstone song has a strange self-consciousness about it. The character singing (is it Lou Reed or just a fiction?) makes it clear that he doesn't care what you think about him, about what he does, or about anything else. Yet notice how carefully crafted the song is. It goes so far as to even have drum beats that are startlingly off-beat to signify the racing of the heroin addict's heart trying to maintain itself in the rush. And then when everything is reduced down to pure physical sound expression of this nightmare reality, the electric viola is used to produce screeching feedback that is actually carefully and artistically controlled. This feedback is like the true and chosen voice of the addict who refuses to have a voice in his society. This is the voice of the maximal alienation that is a window on American history. But in the end it doesn't really nullify itself accept in the sense of refusing to be an ordinary conforming citizen. In the end it turns its tormented screeching into art and defies the oppressing powers in the only way it can. People who have a negative view of this album say that it is about nihilistic decadence and corruption and pretentious self-indulgence which they don't approve of, along with the fact that it is bad music; and many people who have a positive view of the album also say that this album is about those things which they also don't approve, but they still find the album cool and interesting because it's good rock and roll. But I say (here is my one sentence): I love this album because it expresses a low and inevitable point of American despair and alienation which it escapes by transforming it through rock and roll into a defiant Yes of art.
Whatever one may think of Lou Reed, in the end he is a genuine artist and genuine art is never really nihilistic though it may have to make its way through hell to show its true face. The fact that Lou Reed is an artist rather than a suicide or a raving killer ("thank your God that I just don't care") is a good sign for the USA though in its determined blindness it may not realize this fact. He made the decision to nullify his life (in reality? in fiction? it makes no difference) then made another decision to recreate himself as an artist. Somewhere in the dark of that subtle and profound decision lies the key to the USA's escape from its own eventual nullification. But one seriously wonders, however widely regarded this album has become over the decades, how deeply its real value and meaning will penetrate into the culture of the land of the free where rock and roll has become a paper tiger with a multi-million dollar bank account and a very low tolerance for reality. One wonders if there will be any kind of artistic vehicle of liberation for the unborn but coming suicides, killers, and whatever other forms the alienated take in the future.
THE VELVET UNDERGROUND & NICO is more than just a good old rock and roll album. It's a powerful lens through which one can see a great deal, if one wants to.
It ain't horrible, but it ain't great 
2008-06-13
I was disappointed with this album. I will admit that the lyrics are definately different from the material during the era this was released. However, despite that and the ecstatic violin on Heroin and Venus in Furs (the best song on the album), it sounds like a typical mainstream '60s rock record. I understand what they were trying to do, but I really do not see what all the pizazz is about. By the way, Nico couldn't carry a tune in a bucket--something that did not help this record. Even if she did not sing, I would still have the same feelings for this record.
in response to a few of the negative reviews 2008-05-13
I feel that you do the band a disservice by writing off the lyrics as striving for "shock value." Lou Reed studied under and was recognized as a talented writer by the late Delmore Schwartz. Delmore was a talented writer of both prose and verse, an John Berryman [America's greatest poet] dedicated a section of The Dream Songs [America's greatest poem], to Schwartz. My point: Reed was/is a poet [much like Bob Dylan - though, Dylan was/is a more talented poet]. Since Ezra Pound said that it was the poet's objective to "make it new," it has been unacceptable for any serious poet to write commonplace verse. Really, looking back to John Donne and even further back to Ovid, the best poets were always breaking new ground. As far as songwriters go, Reed and Dylan were more like Skip James, Blind Willie Johnson, Charley Patton, Blind Lemon Jefferson, or Lightnin' Hopkins than the typical songwriter of the 60s. Instead of writing off 'Heroin' as a simple drug song - which I initially did - view it as an existential poem. It's very much a piece that struggles between hedonism and spirituality - one that wants to make a clear dash for hedonism, but is definitely haunted by spiritual undertones. Think: Nietzsche on one shoulder and Kierkegaard on the other [for a very simple explanation]. As a song of spiritual crisis, I liken it a great deal to Blind Willie Johnson's "Lord, I just can't keep from crying sometimes," where Johnson struggles between faith and a Job-like existence. Instead of writing off "Venus in Furs" as a song that aims to shock via sadism, view the psychological implications. The writing is painfully precise: "Strike dear mistress and cure his heart."
As for the music, like with Reed's lyrics, John Cale comes from a school of minimalism. As Bob Dylan pointed out, a great song can be comprised of one chord - see John Lee Hooker, whose minimalism influenced Bo Diddley. John Cale's viola ranges from delicate to hellish - depending on what each given song or moment needs.
That is why The Velvets are music for "thinking" people. The songs work as art. As most children will take Pizza Hut and Gummy Bears over a quality dining experience, most people will take Led Zeppelin, The Beach Boys or Frank Sinatra over The Velvet Underground, Bob Dylan, or the great bluesmen of the past.
Smooth as Velvet 2008-04-23
When the Velvets recorded this debut, they were best known as the protégés of Andy Warhol (who designed the sleeve), and as a grating, combustive live band. Fueled by drummer Moe Tucker's no-nonsense wham and John Cale's howling viola, some of the straight-up rock & roll and arty noise extravaganzas here bear that out. But before Lou Reed was singing about sadomasochism and drug deals and writing lyrics inspired by his favorite poets, he was a pop songwriter, and this album has some of his prettiest tunes, mostly sung by Nico, the German dark angel who left the band after this disc. Even the sordid rockers are underscored by graceful pop tricks, like the two-chord flutter at the center of the classic "Heroin."
--Douglas Wolk
Album is a Mixed Bag 
2008-03-11
To this reviewer both those who love this record and those who hate it are both correct. The Velvet Underground & Nico represents both the best and the worst of popular music. There are flashes of brilliance as in "Venus in Furs," highly listenable tracks as those sung by Nico (who is an appropriate vocalist on these decadent tracks), and tracks that are almost unbearably depressing (as in "Heroin," hardly a pro-drug song and more a song about despair and hopelessness in mid-sixties NYC). However, the final two tracks absolutely kill the album, as they are unlistenable junk. While this album and the group are considered greats in rock, I think that's a little bit overblown. The album is certainly a product of its time, during which Andy Warhol was the big name in New York, and it reflects those times, including the seedy underbelly of the city, and it couldn't be made today. But is it the greatest album ever made? Hardly, although it certainly has some great moments. And it is an influential album in that many no-talents who heard it suddenly decided if the Velvets could make records and make money no matter the quality, they could, too. That's not necessarily a good thing.
In short, this album and the Velvet Underground are acquired tastes that many people will never acquire and with some justification.
The Velvet Underground...a group ahead of it's time. 2008-02-22
From the first track to the last...each tune a great & howling tribute to almighty rock & roll!
From Nico's Germanic, Icy voice to Lou Reed's honest, Intense delivery on tracks like "Sunday Morning" & "Heroin" this CD (or MP3) will give you your moneys worth. I highly reccomend this to anyone who likes honest, no bullsh** music delivered by those who've lived on the edge!
Lather, Rinse, Repeat, to Get the Stink of This One Off You! 2008-02-02
No matter what musical source I'm looking at, I see the proclamation that The Velvet Underground & Nico is the greatest album...ever! I've given this album a fair shake. And I cannot help but think that it is, all around, simply a fetid turd of an album. Now, I'm not about to tell you what to listen to. If to you it is a magical album, then I'm glad you get some enjoyment out of it. But when an album is lauded as the best album in the history of music, I must protest, when I find the vocals to be bland and uninspired, the percussion to be sloppy, the songwriting to be lacking in emotion, and the band, in general, sounding as if another week's worth of practice would have done them a world of good. Perhaps those in love with this album are simply a very vocal minority. Perhaps my lack of a heroin habit is making me far too rational in my criticisms of this album. But I generally feel that this is overrated swill that a lot of people like because a lot of other people have told them it's "groundbreaking." Sorry if you got fooled and bought this one. You shouldn't try so hard to fit in.
A musical contradiction. 2007-12-23
When I first listened to this album, when I was fifteen, I hated it. My experience with music extended to the church music and country pop my sister and parents loved, and whatever over-produced pop crap MTV, BET, and VH1 were endorsing. I expected easy-to-groove-to melodies, lyrics that were about as challenging as remembering to breathe, and slick production that obviously masked glaring musical inadequacies. We had the robot-voiced Britney Spears, the lyrical pissing contest that was mainstream hip-hop, and and endless stream of Nirvana and Green Day rip-offs.
So with the polished, unchallenging, shallowly melodic pop that was available, naturally I had problems with VU & Nico. Lou Reed sounded flat, Nico sounded like a man, the music was screechy and atonal. At the time, I described it as "somebody gave drugs and a guitar to a bunch of mentally-retarded chimpanzees (This is label is currently applied to The Legendary Stardust Cowboy)." And for four years, I left it at that. Eventually, I forgot about the album.
A lot happened in those four years, but the two most significant changes that I made were that I started writing, and I discovered punk rock. These two changes taught me that music doesn't have to be technically great to be truly great, and to value the literary side of music. Then, when a friend lent me the album, I was able to recognize it for what it was: Brilliant, nuanced, literate street poetry. It was eleven haunting tales of nihilism, hopelessness, and addiction neatly presented as a rock album. It was Dylan, after weariness and cynicism had killed the revolutionary, and worn him down to a spiritless, addicted, husk. It perfectly captured the zeitgeist of late 60's New York.
Each track on here evokes a nostalgic, yet weary feeling. The melodies are not really danceable, but perfectly capture the feeling of each song, from "I'm Waiting For My Man," which describes the thrill, need, and elation of getting your next fix, to the penniless, vain, and ultimately pitiful would-be social climber in "All Tomorrow's Parties," to "Heroin's" desperate, mad, frightening, alluring, and honest ode to that most vile drug, to the sexual masochism of "Venus in Furs."
The music is repetitive, droning, noisy, and above all, atmospheric. Unlike what some people think, this isn't the chaotic screeching of inexperienced musicians. The Velvet Underground knew precisely what they were doing. The music isn't there so you can dance to it. It's meant to inspire a certain mood in the listener. This album should set you edge, drain your energy, entrance you, entice your curiosity, and ultimately make you understand.
This album is a shout-out to the junkies, the weirdos, the lowlifes, the poets, the queers, and the drunks. Lou Reed finds his muse in the streets, with those forgotten, marginalized, and vilified by society at large. This album is unique, in that rather than the cloying "Carpe Diems" that we find in modern music, it resigns itself to the darkness.
I wouldn't rate Lou Reed as one of the better singers of all time, or Nico, for that matter. They both have staggering vocal limitations. However, those weaknesses work to their benefit with the Velvet Underground. This album wouldn't work if Paul McCartney or Frank Sinatra sang. This needed people who sounded gritty, untrained, and worn-out. They were perfect.
However, this is a challenging record. Perhaps not quite as challenging as, say, Captain Beefheart's Trout Mask Replica, but still very challenging. If you only like music that makes you happy, fun, or lets you dance, this record is not for you. But if you've grown weary of the shallowness of pop music, or the overly-masculine posturing of hip-hop, and long for something with a little more substance, check this out.
In conclusion, this is one of the greatest records of all time. It's also one of the worst. It's a musical contradiction, in that by breaking all of the rules of "music," it rises above it's contemporaries, and firmly entrenches itself as one of the most influential records of all time.
