ESSENTIAL ALBUMS (#35): The Velvet Underground & Nico (1967)

While the American music scene of the 1960s certainly produced a broad range of seminal acts, there was always something about The Velvet Underground that set them apart. As a band, they seemed to epitomize the whole concept of “cool" while also serving up a catalogue of iconic songs that were hugely influential for later generations of artists and bands.

Under the classic line-up of Lou Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison and Moe Tucker, the band turned out songs that could switch from soft psychedelia to dark rock while also covering themes that included sex, violence, drugs, sadomas­ochism and prostitution. Songs such as ‘Sunday Morning’, ‘I'm Waiting For The Man’ and ‘Venus in Furs’ have become par­ticular musical touchstones across several decades of musical history. It's not difficult to see their appeal for the cultural underground of the time and, in particular, Andy Warhol, who was always drawn to the strange and unusual.

Released in 1967, The Velvet Underground & Nico is perhaps one of the most recognizable records in the history of notable sleeve designs, yet the album wasn’t a great seller at the time. This seems all the more surprising when you consider that Andy Warhol was championing the band and quite literally left his stamp on the sleeve art­work (he’s also listed as the album’s producer).

Warhol’s pop art aesthetic was at its peak during the mid-1960s, while The Factory (Warhol’s New York work­space) was a regular haunt for outsiders, celebrities, misfits and artists. After being introduced to The Velvet Underground, Warhol took on the role of manager and invited the band to be part of his Exploding Plastic Inevitable shows - a touring multimedia event Warhol, alongside associate Paul Morrisey, had also suggested German singer Nico to the band which led her to performing live with the Velvets (she also sings on three of the album’s tracks).

The album's distinctive sleeve design manages to be both bold yet also simplistic. The sexual overtones of the banana had also been entirely intentional. To create the image, Warhol took a photograph of a banana and transferred it to an acetate sheet. He then made a silk-screen from that sheet to end up with the final image. If the phallic theme wasn’t quite obvious to the casual eye, initial sleeves enabled people to peel off the design to reveal a flesh-coloured banana under­neath. "The banana actually made it into an erotic art show” Lou Reed later commented. A special machine was needed to manufacture these covers, but the record label paid for the costs figuring that any ties to Warhol would boost sales of the album.

As well as the peel-off sticker. Initial pressings of the album also featured a gatefold sleeve. Subsequent press­ings dropped both of those elements to reduce the costs (originally, someone from the record label had had to sit down and place the banana sticker over every album sleeve by hand).

The sleeve design also ran into other problems. The back cover features a photograph of the band performing live, slightly hidden by projections. Actor Eric Emerson featured on the projected backdrop and threatened to sue over the unauthorized use of his image. To battle this, the re­cord label instead airbrushed the actor's image out for sub­sequent pressings (adding on a black sticker for sleeves that had already been printed).

While the album didn’t quite establish The Velvet Underground’s legacy at the time, the songs went on to influ­ence a wealth of musical talent in subsequent years (which included a variety of different cover versions). The roll call of acts who have cited the Velvets includes Joy Division, The Sex Pistols, David Bowie (who had actually acquired an early acetate of the album in 1966), OMD, Strawberry Switchblade, Talking Heads and more.

Meanwhile, The Velvet Underground & Nico neatly straddles the middle ground between pop art artefact and an iconic collection of music.