That album’s a masterpiece, and it’s probably not even their best record (Loaded possibly?), but it’s mix of pop and noise and poetry, along with Reed’s New York swagger, Nico’s icy croon, and Andy Warhol kitsch makes for an absolute monument of sound, a record that naturally didn’t sell, but that affected everything that came after.
At any given moment, I have a different favorite song from the album, but the one that really grabbed a hold of me first was the Nico sung “Femme Fatale,” a kind of quirky little nugget that felt like a detached version of ‘60s pop music. It somehow manages to be warm and glowing and cold and aloof all at the same time, and like the rest of that wonderful record, led me to extended works of Reed and Cale and Nico.
Listen below, our Daily Jam.
No comments:
Post a Comment