Nov 13

Nov 13 SUNDAY DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE: LOU REED, JOHN CALE, AND NICO, LE BATACLAN '72

One of the greatest tragedies in the history of rock and roll is the fact that there exists almost no decent footage of the Velvet Underground from their prime. Considering the group’s legacy as Andy Warhol’s object of obsession and personal art project, it amazes me that no one ever thought to at least semi-properly document the visual aspect of a Velvets show. Sure, there are those depressing clips from that 90’s cash-grab reunion (notably sans Nico), but watching those feels like watching your grandparents half-assedly sift through a cover set of the group’s greatest hits.

Needless to say, It’s tough business being a diehard Velvet Underground fan; but fortunately there are a few Velvets-adjacent gems floating around if you know where to look.

The well-documented Le Bataclan ‘72 gig was a Velvet Underground performance in all but name; while rhythm guitarist Sterling Morrison, percussionist Moe Tucker, and misc. man Doug Yule were all crucial sonic elements to the group's earlier output, it was always the power trio of Lou Reed, John Cale, and Nico that formed the nucleus of the Velvet Underground sound and image.

Lou, seated casually here, channels his inner beat poet while Cale plays maestro off to the side (as the group’s only classically trained musician, he’s the one really making the magic happen here). Although Nico doesn’t take center stage on this particular track, her presence alone contributes to the recording’s effortless atmosphere of cool; the whole thing feels like a cutaway scene from some French noir classic.

In many ways, this one-off gig acted as the trio’s concluding statement, a snapshot of everyone’s favorite rock and roll apostates at the end of their collective reign. Later that year, Lou would release Transformer and shoot off into the cosmos of superstardom, and John Cale would quietly bless cult audiences with his opus Paris 1919 (a record whose genius arguably rivals that of Transformer).

Use Le Bataclan ‘72 as a jumping-off point for your own trip down the Velvets rabbit hole, keeping in mind of course that it doesn’t get much better than this. —Jackson Todd