Arthur Lee's Love is one of those bands that sound better with the passing of time (like the Velvet Underground - and by the way, I was in a bookstore yesterday where music was being played and it seemed like almost every song I heard was a direct descendant of "After Hours". It then occurred to me that it would be hard to find a piece of alternative music that doesn't owe something to the Velvets). And while it's correct that Forever Changes (1967) should be remembered as a rock masterpiece and one of the greatest albums, it isn't correct to think that what came afterward was not worthwhile. The three records that followed (Four Sail and Out Here in 1969 and False Start in 1970) weren't as unified as Forever Changes - very few albums are - but they contained many brilliant songs that should've been better appreciated. In some ways, Lee's best songwriting can be found on these albums. Four Sail opens with an amazing song called "August" which features a virtuosic drum performance by George Suranovich, and the closing track, "Always See Your Face", speaks for itself: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OkWVrLfiJKs.

I mentioned two great debut albums yesterday - Nick Drake's Five Leaves Left (1969) and The Jimi Hendrix Experience's Are You Experienced (1967) - both of which could be legitimately considered as the finest recordings of their respective careers. It got me thinking about a couple of things: 1. Why does it often seem to be the case that the earliest recordings of an artist are generally those that are the most popular with listeners? 2. Which other debut albums deserve to be considered, along with those mentioned above, in the category of the best ever? One album that I posted on not too long ago that deserves inclusion is The Velvet Underground and Nico (1967), which shares a key characteristic with the other two: its variety. The way I see it is fairly simple. A first album is like an undergraduate degree - or perhaps the first year or two of serious study in a discipline. Artists want to take a survey of the terrain, to experiment with as many aspects as they can, and to show what they can do. Also, they are still at the point in their career where the perceived possibilities far exceed the limitations. As time goes on, artists will often get more specific in their work, and investigate certain aspects of music in a more focused and/or thorough way. For example, compare White Light/White Heat (1968) with its supercharged electric sound, and The Velvet Underground (1969), with its acoustic settings, to the first album with its examples of both. I hope you'll agree that this is an interesting area to consider, and I'm going to continue to do so over the next few posts. Tomorrow: Are You Experienced.

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.

The Velvet Underground (1969), the group's third album, was a big departure from their previous work. John Cale had left the band at this point, and no time was wasted in getting his replacement, Doug Yule, into the game: he sings the opening track, the majestic "Candy Says", the song that sets the stage for the rest of the album. It incorporates themes and images concerned with loneliness, disappointment, moral decision-making and transcendence. The chord progression is both very unusual and very natural (not an easy combination to achieve): D/ F# minor/ F major/ B7/ E minor/ A7/ D/ A. The F major chord, which occurs between "...says" and "I've come to hate my body" provides a highly chromatic moment that gives the melody a strong feeling of direction - which continues throughout the song. The sound of the album, which also takes its cue from the first track, is completely counter to White Light/White Heat. Here, the band was looking for beauty - and they found it. The lyrics, the melodies, the playing, the instrumentation (which features a lot of acoustic guitar) and above all, the honesty - beautiful is the only word for it. It is without question one of the greatest rock albums ever made, and it never entered Billboard's Top 200. (As was written on a sticker on one of Joe Strummer's guitars: "Ignore Alien Orders".)

For post number 100, it works out cool that I get to write about White Light/White Heat, the second and arguably the most adventurous and disturbing album by The Velvet Underground. It's an album that is meant to explore the underside of rock, without any dishonesty or apology. Its sound, while certainly not to everyone's taste, matches its subjects and succeeds in shaking up a listener, even today. The title track opener has (like "Sweet Jane") entered into the "very frequently covered" category, and deservedly so. The second track, "The Gift", consists of a short story written by Lou Reed and read by John Cale in one channel, and the band playing an instrumental (elsewhere called "Booker T.") in the other. "Lady Godiva's Operation", like "Here She Comes Now", features a melodic sense that is unique to The Velvets with an outrageous lyric (even by their standards) to top it off. It's bizarre but marvelous, as is the rest of the album, which closes with the escaped id screamer "Sister Ray", perhaps the most polarizing song in rock and roll. I'll let Sterling Morrison have the last word: "We were all pulling in the same direction. We may have been dragging each other off a cliff, but we were all definitely going in the same direction. In the White Light/White Heat era, our lives were chaos. That's what's reflected in the record."