Seeing the Light: Inside the Velvet Underground by Rob Jovanovic was a fascinating read about one of the most influential musical groups ever. I learned about them well over forty years ago when I first got into the art and films of Andy Warhol. The pop artist himself was drawn to the group as he extended his oeuvre from painting and film into the world of music. It is thus fitting that he, as their first “producer”, should find him sharing the front cover with the band.
The band was known as the epitome of cool and wore sunglasses onstage, yet not to create an illusion of mystery about themselves. In the earliest days of their live performances their shows were multimedia events, with Warhol movies projected onto a screen behind them and light shows bouncing off the musicians. They needed to wear sunglasses to protect their eyes from the visual onslaught.
David Bowie, an early fan, claimed:
“This was a degree of cool that I had no idea was humanly sustainable and it was ravishing.”
I could not put this book down as I was so interested in reading about the group’s formation and the recording sessions for their first two albums. Jovanovic relied on interviews with the band members themselves and got the most revealing and honest admissions from drummer Maureen Tucker, who was the sanest member of the band, untouched by the druggy atmosphere that surrounded them.
When John Cale left after the release of the second album, their sound changed as the classical element with Cale’s electric viola disappeared with him. This is the part of the band I loved the most: the duelling experimentation of the viola, guitars and drums.
Sterling Morrison and Maureen Tucker recall the band’s first gig:
“Of course no one knew what to expect. ‘At Summit we opened with ‘There She Goes Again’, then played ‘Venus In Furs’ and ended with ‘Heroin,” recalled Sterling Morrison. ‘The murmur of surprise that greeted our appearance as the curtain went up increased to a roar of disbelief once we started to play ‘Venus’ and swelled to a mighty howl of outrage and bewilderment by the end of ‘Heroin’.’
“Indeed, as the curtain was raised the kids in the audience, many of whom had parents accompanying them to the show, were shocked. The Velvets all wore black, Cale and Reed were wearing shades, the drummer played standing up–and was it a boy or a girl? Cale’s frenzy at his viola was not what a middle-of-the-road pop crowd was expecting. Before ‘Heroin’ was finished many of the crowd had left. ‘I remember that my drums basically fell apart during our three-song set,’ recalled Tucker. ‘One item broke per song. I don’t remember what broke exactly, probably the snare stand became loose and I couldn’t make it tighten anymore, or the bass drum leg fell out.'”
I was happy to read that Jovanovic gave proper credit to Doug Yule. He was not on the Velvets’ first two albums–admittedly, the ones that made them (in)famous–yet carried on with songwriting and touring long after Lou Reed, Sterling Morrison and Maureen Tucker had left. The late history of the Velvets, when they were down to only Yule and a revolving door of replacement musicians demoted to playing ski resorts in the early seventies, was a captivating read about who really owned the rights to the band name. It was the property of their manager, Steve Sesnick, who kept churning out different iterations of musicians all while being legally able to call the band and promote them as the Velvet Underground.
In 1993 the four original members reunited and toured Europe, and released a live album and video of their performance. I eagerly anticipated the live double CD and VHS concert and bought them when they came out. Jovanovic detailed the origins of the amicable reunion and the predictable deterioration of the band’s goodwill, which sadly threw the plans for the North American tour into the trash.
The book was plagued throughout by an infestation of superfluous commas. Sentences were muddled by extraneous verbs which was evidence of an incomplete digital edit. I didn’t record any of the really bad sentences, yet felt the following deserved ridicule:
“Surprisingly, the main sticking point surprisingly turned out to be the attendance (or not) of Moe Tucker.”
In spite of these editorial gaffes I nonetheless found Seeing the Light an essential read for Velvet Underground fans and one that had my attention on every page. Fans would recognize the significance of the colours of the two inside flaps. Yellow was chosen for the front flap and pink for the end, mimicking the colours of the banana, both unpeeled and peeled, from the group’s first album.
Who would have thought that the Velvets would ever be heard in a TV commercial but as I write this I hear Nico singing “I’ll Be Your Mirror” on a commercial for Expedia. The Velvet Underground sell out? After I post this I have a strong urge to listen to both sides of White Light/White Heat blaring.