A really classy treatment and presentation to this 3 disc artifact from Scorpio. The set comes in a Fatboy Jewelcase format with deluxe glossy cardboard slipcover and 20-page booklet that served this reviewer as critical in discerning the contents within. This is yet another one of those 'labor of love' releases that somebody at the label held dear to seeing it through, giving it the proper touches. First off, the photography utilized throughout is absolutely stellar. Yes, we get the color shots for the cover graphics but when you get into the booklet there are some very scarce black & white photos, along with newspaper ads and clippings from the Village Voice, etc. which completely brings the authenticity to the set. All the details and nuances that an avid collector would include into such a set is there. I was amazed. If not with the artifacts gathered for this collectors item, then with the article that dominates the booklet narrative inside - as THIS, REALLY helps frame up the contents within and the whole scene with Andy Warhol and The Velvets. Any fan of the VU will want to seek this set out.
Not being a real fan of that whole scene, the article articulates perfectly my thoughts as I listened and here we are 40 years later touching the same vein. Almost creepy! Why? Well, I don't know where this article was printed originally or where it was taken from or who the author is - but it is reprinted here within the Dispatches booklet as if it was written for this particular release some 40 years on. And I cannot articulate what I was hearing any better than how this person conveyed what the actual experience was at the time, when seeing the band and the production for the first time - not to mention the people...an excerpt from the repurposed article in the booklet to support and set the stage for the contents:
THE VELVET The Dom St. Marks Place NYC May 1966
The best dance music club in the southern end of Manhattan was the Dom, a tiny bar in the basement under a Polish restaurant on St. Marks Place in the East Village. The DJ played 'Mustang Sally' by the Young Rascals, 'Cool Jerk' by the Capitols and a lot of soul and latin tracks I'd never heard on the radio.
Having found the place accidentally the first time, I went back for more, but as I started down the steps, I stopped to read a poster outside the restaurant: Andy Warhol presents His Exploding Plastic Inevitable, featuring The Velvet Underground and Nico.' I'd never heard of Nico or the Velvet Underground and didn't know what was inevitable about exploding plastic, but I'd read about Warhol in the Village Voice. He staged Happenings, where performance artists and the audience improvised interactions. Could this be one of those? I went upstairs instead of down.
Inside, a stage had been set up at one side of the restaurant, whose tables had been pushed closer together, all still covered with blue-and-white chequered plastic cloths. No food tonight, but I bought a drink, sat at a table and waited for something to happen, as a few other people drifted in.
Warhol's films Kiss and Empire were projected on the walls to the left and right of the stage, both of them loops of a single shot held for several minutes which repeated indefinitely. Onstage was the paraphanalia of a band - amps, guitars and a minimal drum kit. After awhile another film was projected on the wall behind the stage, showing musicians playing, with no sound.
Eventually, some real live musicians ambled onstage and proceeded to mimic the actions of the film. A woman sat behind the drums, an unusual sight then and ever since. The three male musicians in front of her seemed to be moving through treacle, as if in a dream, everything in slow motion. When they started, I wondered if this was the first time they had ever played together, as they hammered the same chord relentlessly and then switched to another that got the same treatment. If skiffle had been played with electric instruments, it might have sounded like this.
A man in dark glasses sang in a deliberately emotionless monotone, and shocked me with a song that seemed to be extolling the virtues of heroin. But as blatant as the song's lyric was, it never occurred to me that any of the musicians might actually have taken it, that the dreamlike quality of their movements was down to the drugs they had just taken.
...it was if the Velvets had deliberately decided to take out nay reference to black music...
A woman, presumably Nico, came onstage with a whip and started caressing a bare-chested man with it. After a while I realized he must be Gerard Malanga, whose photographs had been in the the Voice. On the wall behind them, the film showed them doing the same exact routine. The effect was mesmerizing. Then Nico sng in an even dirgier monotone than Lou. I was horrified, but fascinated. Which pretty much describes my feelings about the whole night. Not the most enjoyable gig I ever went to, but the most unexpected, challenging and memorable.
And there's more information provided to set up the whole context of the early scene in New York and where these people sort of came together. But the above excerpt perfectly aligns same reference points as you listen to the discs. While that may or may not be a good thing, all that said the quality of this early material is pretty incredible. I found listening to master rehearsal tapes from The Factory in NYC on January 3, 1966, served up via the first 5 tracks of disc one was much more interesting than the music that was derived from them or anything else presented in this set. This genre of rock and roll isn't for everyone and I have done everything I can to find something endearing with the whole Velvets 'thing' and I'm baffled. I don't get it. I think it really comes down to the fact that it was a time and a place. Their existence on the scene and the network of industry types in which they were associated and supported by, framed up legendary tales. From afar it is yet another romantic chapter in music, as we can see here in this amazingly assembled set of assorted audio segments, it was really gritty, dark and well...mesmerizing indeed!
As you would guess, the sound quality from segment to segment varies but what is nice about the listening experience here is that it's chunked up appropriately so that you do have like quality on each disc. Disc two with the two live performance snipets from New York '67 and Cleveland 1968 are of marginal audience quality (recorded close to the stages) but the balance of the material is sourced directly from master tapes and are of mostly soundboard tape sources but not always balanced with either vocals or a couple of instruments buried in the mix - with some alternate sources sprinkled in . Strange but interesting stuff, you can't always digest it in one gulp though! This is in itself an artifact of a legendary musical outfit and Scorpio has done their homework well to prepare a release such as this. It's just not for everybody.
