I'LL BE YOUR MIRROR

Many of the early Velvet Underground songs reflected Lou Reed’s love of ’50s doo wop, pop and R&B. ANDREW MALE picks five.

I’M WAITING FOR THE MAN

The Velvets played it fast, dead-slow and dirge but listen to it again and you can hear its roots in gutbucket black ’50s R&B – barrelhouse piano, distorted Earl King guitar – reappropriated sounds from the other side of the city, which is entirely appropriate for a song about a “white boy” going deep into the heart of Harlem and bringing back something dark and sweet. Find it: The Velvet Underground And Nico (VERVE, 1967)

THERE SHE GOES AGAIN

The most obvious influence here is, of course, the opening riff, an almost direct lift from The Funk Brothers’ syncopated guitar intro to Marvin Gaye’s 1962 single, Hitchhike. But there’s also Lou’s rough R&B guitar, the parodic harmony backing vocals and the subject matter: a love-letter to the neighbourhood girl. It’s just that the neighbourhood girl is now some post-Dylan two-timing Sweet Marie, of whom Lou suggests “You better hit her.” Find it: The Velvet Underground And Nico (VERVE, 1967)

PALE BLUE EYES

Part of Pale Blue Eyes’ brilliance can be found in the fact that it is essentially a corner doo wop song, a variant on all those unrequited Dion And The Belmonts tunes, except that here the narrative gradually unravels towards infidelity and the group sound is stripped down to one forlorn voice accompanied by the hushed, chamber backing of downtuned electric guitar, tambourine and Doug Yule’s churchy, almost not-there Hammond organ. Find it: The Velvet Underground (MGM, 1969)

I FOUND A REASON

Probably the Lou song that owes the greatest debt to the mid-’50s male vocal open-harmony sound of The Four Freshmen and The Four Aces, and almost played straight, complete with spoken-word interlude. But not quite. I Found A Reason also possesses the same lunatic edge as those slow, murderous ballads of Big Jay McNeely and Bobby Marchan, most particularly McNeely’s There Is Something On Your Mind, a slice of East LA R&B paranoia that ends in a double murder and suicide. Find it: Loaded (COTILLION, 1970)

OCEAN

Originally recorded for what appears to have been the MGM label follow-up to their eponymouslytitled third album, this plays like an epic, drugged-out reworking of Phil Phillips’ Sea Of Love, some Martin Denny exotica, and every single dreamy Peggy Lee sea-as-metaphor love song rolled into one. The writer Nick Tosches once told this writer that every sea song is a metaphor for hard drugs. The proof is here. Find it: VU (VERVE, 1984)