The title song from Lou Reed's Coney Island Baby (1975) is an enigma, because it has an effect on listeners that is far beyond what a reading of the lyrics would suggest it should. Of course, the music plays a big part, as does Reed's close-to-the-vest singing style... Wait a minute, maybe that's it. Maybe the song is powerful simply because it portrays a character - someone who normally wouldn't reveal the emotional motivations behind his actions - realizing that he'd always possessed sensitivity and a need for human connection even before he could articulate the fact. Looked at this way, the ending, with its references to the glory of love, doesn't come out of nowhere.

Well, that's one theory, I guess. And whether it's right or wrong, the song's a masterpiece: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPHbbvQEA1E.

Lou Reed's Ecstasy (2000) is another album that, for some reason, I didn't get around to hearing until very recently. My loss. It's a tremendous album, with some of the most trenchant lyrical content that the great New York poet has ever written. Listening to it made me wonder if any rock and roller has ever considered the experience as completely as Reed has over the course of his career - which has now achieved a height in terms of importance that can be summarized thus: No serious rock musician or fan can be ignorant of his work.

The album's title track is notable for its mood, its ambiguous lyrics, its beautiful guitar figure and the playing of the great jazz percussionist Don Alias. Have a listen: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xIg8KUMW8TA

Loaded (1970) was the fourth and final studio album by the Velvet Underground (until VU and Another View, both of which consist of material recorded before the Loaded sessions, were released in 1985 and 1986 respectively). Like the first three, it's a surprise. The sound of the album is more conventional, due largely to a more conventional rhythm section - Doug Yule had replaced John Cale on bass, and Maureen Tucker was on pregnancy leave. The album's title came from Reed, who correctly felt that the album was "loaded with hits". "Sweet Jane" and "Rock and Roll" are both among the greatest rock songs, and "Head Held High" is up there too, in my opinion. There are several examples of the kind of melancholy that it seem like only The Velvets can portray, as well: "New Age", "I Found a Reason", "Sweet Nuthin'" and "Who Loves the Sun" are all beautiful heart-breakers.

Loaded also contains several references to doo-wop, the form of fifties rhythm and blues that uses vocals as instrumentation, which was where Reed's rock interest began. It brought to mind a great line in "Down at the Arcade" from New Sensations, his brilliant 1984 solo album: "It's rooted in the fifties, but its heart's in 1984". Substitute 1984 for whatever year you're living in at the moment and you have a pretty good description of this timeless band.

A little nervous today, because for the next few days I'm going to be writing about The Velvet Underground, and I want to do them justice. I've decided that I'll write one post about each of the four albums, and so today it's The Velvet Underground and Nico.

OK, first off, if Andy Warhol was to only produce one rock album, it had be this one. It seems like everything that he did was, at the very least, thought-provoking and at times, like here, ground-breaking, iconoclastic, lasting. This album, completed in 1966, but due to all sorts of record company errors released in March of 1967, still sounds avant-garde today. Thousands of bands got their inspiration from it, but very few (if any) ever matched its depth and diversity.

It began with Lou Reed. I've always felt that if rock and roll were personified, it'd be him. A troubled teen who loved early rock and doo-wop, who wore nail polish (in the fifties!), who actually received shock treatment therapy with the OK of his distraught parents, who studied literature at Syracuse (where he met the poet Delmore Schwartz, from whom he got his anti-commercial, aboveboard bearings), became the first songwriter in rock to incorporate the goals of serious literature into rock music. Then there was John Cale, the Welsh-born multi-instrumentalist (bass, viola, celeste, etc.) with ties to the contemporary classical music world, who gave the album two of its most prominent characteristics: its use of drones (influenced by his work with La Monte Young) and his distinctive choices as a bassist. Sterling Morrison, on guitar, provided the group a potent lead player and a philosophically advanced thinker, while Maureen Tucker was a perfect drummer for a group that was both experimental and primitive - listen to her playing on "Heroin", for an example.

Then there is the group's extra-musical quality. I guess the best way that I can describe it is to call it a seriousness of purpose. It has the same earnest quality as the best jazz (Coltrane comes to mind), but their virtuosity is not primarily of a musical kind - it's conceptual and intellectual in nature. For example, the above-mentioned "Heroin" and "I'm Waiting for the Man" both deal with drug addiction from the point-of-view of the addict, which is a revolutionary concept, even for today. These songs encourage a listener to empathize and understand. And the album as a whole therefore, despite its dark subject matter, is ultimately (as another great poet put it) "an affirming flame".

Bob Dylan, as a vocalist, is hugely important. First of all, his rhythmic delivery is awesome. Listen to "Like a Rolling Stone", for example, where his singing is easily the most powerful timekeeper in the group. Also, the melodic contours that he finds are not the usual ones. Try singing "It's All Over Now, Baby Blue", and you'll see what I'm getting at. Third, he makes us consider what we are getting from listening to a singer. For instance, many people who see him in concert are astonished at how he changes the phrasing and melodies of his songs, almost to the point where they are unrecognizable - one of the main reasons that he does so is a simple one: he doesn't want the crowd singing along with him. And finally, in terms of influence, leaving aside the obvious examples (virtually any "singer-songwriter"), the rockers Lou Reed, Ian Hunter and Bryan Ferry are directly and deeply in his debt as vocalists. Listen to "Prominent Men", "Sweet Angeline", and "Virginia Plain" for evidence. I don't know about you, but I don't even want to imagine a world without The Velvet Underground, Mott the Hoople, and Roxy Music. Could these groups have existed without Dylan? The answer, my friend... (Suggested listening: "Queen Jane Approximately")