"There were four of us literally locked in a room writing songs. We just churned out songs, that’s all. They would say, 'Write ten California songs, ten Detroit songs,' then we’d go down into the studio for an hour or two..."

"... and cut three or four albums really quickly, which came in handy later because I knew my way around a studio, not well enough but I could work really fast. While I was doing that, I was doing my own stuff and trying to get by, but the material I was doing, people wouldn’t go near me with it at the time. I mean, we wrote ‘Johnny Can’t Surf No More’ and ‘Let the Wedding Bells Ring’ and ‘Hot Rod Song.’ I didn’t see it as schizophrenic at all. I just had a job as a songwriter. I mean, a real hack job. They’d come in and give me a subject, and we’d write."

Said Lou Reed, quoted in Episode 164 of the podcast "A History of Rock Music in 500 Songs" — "'White Light/White Heat' by the Velvet Underground.'"

This episode is very long and full of so many varied things — lots about John Cage before we get to John Cale and Lou Reed arrives much later. The stories merge brilliantly. I'm just pointing you at this wonderful episode, not quoting something representative of the whole.

I chose that quote, because that's the point that cued up a snippet of "Cycle Annie," which I found in full here.

"On a shelf behind Reed’s desk, amid Velvet Underground-­related books and music... was a notarized, self-addressed package, to and from Lewis Reed at his parents’ address on Long Island."

"It appeared to contain a tape, and was postmarked May, 1965, when Reed was twenty-three, working as a songwriter at Pickwick Records, living with his parents, and busking on street corners with his new friend John Cale. 'The Velvet Underground & Nico' would come out two years later. Should they open it? They spent years deciding. 'We were treating it like a relic,' Anderson said. They finally did, and the results, an album called 'Words & Music: May 1965,' came out [last] month."

From "Unboxing Lou Reed’s Posthumous Parcel to Himself/After the death of the Velvet Underground front man, two archivists and his widow, Laurie Anderson, discovered a mysterious sealed package from 1965. Inside was treasure: never-before-heard, folky versions of 'Heroin' and other classics" (The New Yorker). 

"What would move a man to say you have to play it 840 times to be complete?"

Garry Moore asks John Cale in this 1963 episode of "I've Got a Secret":

 

How cerebral TV game shows were back then!

I'm noticing this today because I was emailed by Jeff Gee, who'd read this post of mine about a 24-hour-long film montage. He said:

I am reminded of Erik Satie's "Vexations," which has the notation "In order to play the theme 840 times in succession, it would be advisable to prepare oneself beforehand, and in the deepest silence, by serious immobilities." Turns out 840 times = 18 hours, which is how long it took a battery of pianists (every description of it I've seen says "battery," except the Wikipedia article) to perform it at The Pocket Theater in 1963. John Cale, who was one of the pianists, appeared on "I've Got a Secret," and so did the single spectator who made it all the way through (tho Wiki says he was "present" which doesn't mean necessarily awake) I think the Satie scribble is a (good) joke, like the Ring Lardner stage direction that so-and-so exits "as if smuggling waffles," and nicely deadpan. Not sure about "the clock."

"The Clock" is the subject of that earlier blog post.

Markley seems sort of grimly earnest, but maybe he's another nutty guy with a great deadpan...

And let me add — as if smuggling waffles — that John Cale is so handsome in his little quiz show appearance. 1963 is one year before he participated in the creation of The Velvet Underground. His role predominates in things like "Lady Godiva's Operation." Audio at the link. Lyrics here. Excerpt: "Doctor arrives with knife and baggage/Sees the growth as just so much cabbage/That must now be cut away/Now come the moment of Great! Great! Decision!/The doctor is making his first incision." Cerebral!

ADDED: I clicked on my "John Cale" tag to see if I'd ever used it before. I had. Twice. Including once where I updated to add that same "I've Got a Secret Clip" (after a commenter linked to it). I don't like to see a repetition. I take some pride in not repeating myself, but there are 62,935 posts on this blog, and it's delusional to believe I know everything in all of them, especially in the updates inspired by comments, which I would characterize as afterthoughts. The post proper was about a current interview with Cale, wherein he was "reclaim[ing] and reconfigur[ing] his dispair," supposedly.

"They said Torres continued to call out to Boone saying he couldn't breathe, to which she is heard saying, 'That's on you. Oh, that's what I feel like when you choke me.'"

From "Florida man dies inside suitcase, girlfriend charged after claiming they were playing hide and seek: report" (Fox News).

Boone allegedly told police that they thought it would be funny if he got inside the suitcase, Fox 35 Orlando reported. She allegedly said they were drinking at the time and she passed out on her bed. When she woke up-- hours later-- she allegedly said she found him unresponsive and not breathing....

But she made videos, which police retrieved from her phone.

Deputies said Boone is heard laughing and saying, "For everything you've done to me, [expletive] you! Stupid!"

ADDED: Not exactly on point, but I thought about The Velvet Underground's "The Gift":



Spoken-word lyrics here. Excerpt:

Waldo Jeffers had reached his limit. It was now mid-August, which meant he had been separated from Marsha for more than two months.... He didn't have enough money to go to Wisconsin in the accepted fashion, true, but why not mail himself?... He bought masking tape, a staple gun and a medium sized cardboard box just right for a person of his build. He judged that with a minimum of jostling he could ride quite comfortably. A few air holes, some water, perhaps some midnight snacks, and it would probably be as good as going tourist!...

"Cale is not interested in circumventing or prettifying anguish: let it come down."

"But he doesn’t revel in suffering, either; he figures out what hurting sounds like and then articulates it...."

Cale has always thought of art as fluid rather than static—he has rarely been satisfied by recapitulations of the status quo...

Here, then, was an opportunity to reclaim and reconfigure his despair. The idea feels deeply human. Who hasn’t winced, looking back on a thing they made—or a place they lived, or a dress they wore, or a type of tea they drank—while enveloped in grief, and hoped for a way to neutralize that history without losing the thing itself?....

IN THE COMMENTS: Carter Wood points us to this amazing segment of "I've Got a Secret" from 1963:

"There's an edgy attitude. Not toughness. Not meanness."

It's Betsey Johnson, talking about fashion.



Several points:

1. I used to buy Betsey Johnson clothes when they were at Paraphernalia (which she left in 1969). Does anyone else remember shopping for clothes at Paraphernalia in the Betsey Johnson days? I loved that stuff.

2. I love the version of "Every Little Thing She Does Is Magic" that plays at the end of the video.

3. Betsey has worked out a really nice image for herself as an aging woman. It's almost clownish, but it suits her. I could get my hair cut like that. What stops me?

4. "She lived in the Chelsea Hotel in the late '60s. Edie Sedgwick was her house model. She became a friend-of-Andy. She designed the costumes for 'Ciao, Manhattan.' She made velvet suits for the Velvet Underground. She made Lou Reed's pants too big in the crotch, provoking his anger. She married John Cale, making matters worse. She shocked the fashion establishment. She hung out at Max's Kansas City. She shocked the fashion establishment at Max's Kansas City. She played Yoko Ono to Lou Reed's Paul. She broke up the Velvet Underground."

5. She reminds me a little of Susan Estrich.