Originally released on MGM (4617).

Velvet Underground & Nico: Lou Reed (vocals, guitar); Nico (vocals); Sterling Morrison (guitar, bass, background vocals); John Cale (electric viola, piano, bass, background vocals); Maureen Tucker (percussion, background vocals).

Recorded at T.T.G. Studios, Hollywood California; Sceptor Studios and Mayfair Sound Studios, New York, New York in April & November 1966 & April-May 1967. Originally released on Verve (5008).

Personnel: Doug Yule (vocals, guitar, organ, keyboards, drums, background vocals); Lou Reed (vocals, guitar, keyboards, background vocals); Sterling Morrison (vocals, guitar); Maureen Tucker (vocals, drums, percussion).

Recording information: TT & G Studios, Los Angeles, CA.

Photographer: Billy Name.

Unknown Contributor Roles: Doug Yule; Billy Name; Lou Reed; Maureen Tucker; Sterling Morrison.

Arranger: The Velvet Underground.

One would be hard pressed to name a rock album whose influence has been as broad and pervasive as The Velvet Underground and Nico. While it reportedly took over a decade for the album's sales to crack six figures, glam, punk, new wave, goth, noise, and nearly every other left-of-center rock movement owes an audible debt to this set. While The Velvet Underground had as distinctive a sound as any band, what's most surprising about this album is its diversity. Here, the Velvets dipped their toes into dreamy pop ("Sunday Morning"), tough garage rock ("Waiting for the Man"), stripped-down R&B ("There She Goes Again"), and understated love songs ("I'll Be Your Mirror") when they weren't busy creating sounds without pop precedent. Lou Reed's lyrical exploration of drugs and kinky sex (then risky stuff in film and literature, let alone "teen music") always received the most press attention, but the music Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, and Maureen Tucker played was as radical as the words they accompanied. The bracing discord of "European Son," the troubling beauty of "All Tomorrow's Parties," and the expressive dynamics of "Heroin," all remain as compelling as the day they were recorded. While the significance of Nico's contributions have been debated over the years, she meshes with the band's outlook in that she hardly sounds like a typical rock vocalist, and if Andy Warhol's presence as producer was primarily a matter of signing the checks, his notoriety allowed The Velvet Underground to record their material without compromise, which would have been impossible under most other circumstances. Few rock albums are as important as The Velvet Underground and Nico, and fewer still have lost so little of their power to surprise and intrigue more than 30 years after first hitting the racks. ~ Mark Deming

Upon first release, the Velvet Underground's self-titled third album must have surprised their fans nearly as much as their first two albums shocked the few mainstream music fans who heard them. After testing the limits of how musically and thematically challenging rock could be on Velvet Underground & Nico and White Light/White Heat, this 1969 release sounded spare, quiet, and contemplative, as if the previous albums documented some manic, speed-fueled party and this was the subdued morning after. (The album's relative calm has often been attributed to the departure of the band's most committed avant-gardist, John Cale, in the fall of 1968; the arrival of new bassist Doug Yule; and the theft of the band's amplifiers shortly before they began recording.) But Lou Reed's lyrical exploration of the demimonde is as keen here as on any album he ever made, while displaying a warmth and compassion he sometimes denied his characters. "Candy Says," "Pale Blue Eyes," and "I'm Set Free" may be more muted in approach than what the band had done in the past, but "What Goes On" and "Beginning to See the Light" made it clear the VU still loved rock & roll, and "The Murder Mystery" (which mixes and matches four separate poetic narratives) is as brave and uncompromising as anything on White Light/White Heat. This album sounds less like the Velvet Underground than any of their studio albums, but it's as personal, honest, and moving as anything Lou Reed ever committed to tape. ~ Mark Deming

Velvet Underground's self-titled third album seemed like the debut of a new band. John Cale had left (replaced by Doug Yule) and the group became, for all intents and purposes, Lou Reed's back-up band. The songs actually sounded like rock music and John Cale's screeching musicality was reworked into songs that featured Sterling Morrison's most eloquent guitar accompaniment.

Reed's songwriting moved beyond the armed-to-disarm approach of the previous two albums towards a spiritual level of empathy with the human race--a change that wouldn't go unnoticed. The man who once begged someone to "nullify [his] life" ("Heroin") was now asking "Jesus" to "help me find my proper place," and whooping his way through the equally inspiring "Beginning To See The Light." To this day, every song on VELVET UNDERGROUND sounds like a breakthrough.

In short, VELVET UNDERGROUND showcased the human side of Lou Reed's songwriting. Unobstructed by walls of sonic noise, Reed's insight and genius was finally allowed to shine through.

Brian Eno once said that only a hundred people bought Velvet Underground records when they first came out, but those hundred people all went out and formed their own bands. The rest, of course, is history; the Velvet Underground was the catalyst that helped spark punk rock, and began the growth of an alternative branch within rock and roll's grand family tree. VU's was an unparalleled glimpse into the Summer Of Love's alter ego, complete with graphic, unapologetic descriptions of intravenous drug-use and risque sexual situations. Their 1967 debut, VELVET UNDERGROUND & NICO, was a tour de force that may never be equaled for its sheer radicalism in the face of rock convention.

The Velvet Underground also mapped out unconquered sonic territories. Bassist John Cale was weaned on deconstructing classical theory--the perfect avant-garde foil to help bring Reed's terse songs to life. Even more noticeable when he would switch to electric viola, Cale's sound evoked the terror of Reed's compositions, with the bowed strings screeching like a runaway subway car. Drummer Maureen Tucker played like no one before her. Her frantic swipes could mimic a galloping rush in "Heroin," or work with the delicate, hesitant charm of "All Tomorrow's Parties." Guitarist Sterling Morrison was a master of his craft, ably switching from oddly Middle-Eastern plucking (the eerie "All Tomorrow's Parties") to head-on rock (the ultra-edgy "Waiting For The Man"), always adding just the right element to fatten the cacophony. VELVET UNDERGROUND & NICO is one of rock's most significant debuts.