Rewind: Velvet Underground - S/T

I have a somewhat complicated relationship with The Velvets. It's long been said that not a lot of people know their music, but those who do go out and form bands themselves. The Velvet Underground was pretty much and indie or punk rock institution by the time I'd heard of them, and I never got around to forming that band myself (unless you count the "tapes" my cousin and I made when we were teens trying super hard to be all goth and angsty -- I don't). So that shoots that theory down.



The Velvet Underground has the distinction of being one of those "critics' pets" (see yesterday's post) that can do no wrong, and is at the apex of cool according to my record-collecting guy friends. The latter, though unfair, has always been an issue of mine, although I like a lot of "dude rock." If the critics -- the ones whose voices are being heard, at least -- are men, and they are the ones setting the standards, you have an unfair balance of male-dominated acts in the canon. Duh. (Okay, the Velvets had a pre-Meg White "ladydrummer" in Mo Tucker, and Nico guest croaked on the Warhol-produced The Velvet Underground and Nico, but they're thought of as primarily Lou Reed's band.)

So why does "the couch album" make it past my sensors? Eh, I have to go with the simple (and very reductive) "it's a good album." A strong collection of songs that explore things like religion and sexuality and anything that was off-limits to my adolescent brain. The cornerstone of a lot of "really good albums." I'll give the dudes this one.