One Dove, "Morning Dove White"

I was happy to see this album featured in the Pitchfork Review because it's been largely forgotten by anyone who wasn't around in '93.  And even then it was very much an underground cult hit.  I didn't hear the full album until about fifteen years later, at the time, it because a fave go-to for some of my early podcast mixes, or for fresh all over again downtempo listening in general.  When Andrew Weatherall passed away, I remarked that I'd come to like "Morning Dove White" more than "Screamadelica".  I think the Primal Scream album is a better production achievement, considering that he essentially invented a new genre out of nothing (the dance-rock makeover), but the One Dove record is the superior album.  

Pitchfork got the setting wrong though.  One Dove were not a rock band dabbling in dance, when I listen to them I don't hear a rock band first and foremost.  The suggestion is fairly ridiculous -- they were a rock band because certain songs have guitar solos?  So did Underworld at around the same time, and they weren't a rock band by any means.   I think the One Dove/rock association gets retroactively added because of the Weatherall-Primal Scream connection.  Primal Scream were undoubtedly a rock band whose career was transformed by working with Weatherall, who worked with One Dove around the same time, ergo, the situations for the two bands are similar.  But in my opinion that comparison is incorrect.  

For a few years in the 1990's, "ambient" was a catch-all buzzword to describe all sorts of non-rave dance music and downtempo pseudo-chill out stuff, and even rock/post-rock bands that dabbled in dance or dub (e.g. Seefeel) or lounge/lo-fi (Stereolab).  People were actively seeking out alternatives to the ecstasy/smashed off one's face club scene while still keeping their finger on the pulse of club music.  One Dove fit perfectly into this lazily defined category.  Yes, it was silly and confusing and non-sensical to lump so many disparate acts under the "ambient" umbrella and everyone knew it.  The moniker was openly mocked, even on the scale of expected mockery of absurdly concocted "scenes", but the name was used and used regularly.  well as and people actively sought out mellower downtempo stuff.  Listen to the first "Excursions In Ambience" compilation and you'll hear nothing resembling the beatless extended drone that was associated with the term "ambient" by 1994-5.   One Dove fit nicely into that early 90's "ambient" genre, alongside acts that nobody would possibly confuse with rock music.  

Like with many "forgotten" albums, "Morning Dove White" came around at the wrong time.   Years later, St Germain's "Tourist" became the coffee shop downtempo house album of choice for people who hate dancing.   In an alternative universe, "MDW" could have been that soundtrack. 

"All Yesterday's Parties: The Velvet Underground in Print 1966-1971", ed. Clinton Heylin

I bought this book several years ago with high expectations.  But every time I opened it and began to read, I quickly became bored.  Now, after finally slogging through the entire book after a number of false starts and lengthy breaks, I can't really recommend it unless you're doing research for a VU article.  Nevertheless, it does feel like an important work because almost everything about the VU was written after they split up.  Their massive influence on generations of bands is unimpeachable, but over the years I'd heard conflicting accounts about what people thought of them while they were active.  The basic story stated that they were widely shunned and even hated, outside of the rare visionary such as Lester Bangs who appreciated their genius.   The truth seemed to be more nuanced.  For most of their existence, people simply didn't know who the VU were, and you can't hate what you've never heard of.

This articles in this collection provide a mirror into the development of the music press itself.  In 1966 the coverage was done by entertainment reporters with some general knowledge about music, many of whom feigned curiosity in a band like the VU thanks to the Warhol association.  Half of the book covers the 1970-1971 period, by which point the writing takes on the tone of the modern music press, with music-only specialist writers offering insightful criticism and context.  

Clinton Heylin's introductory essay is nearly unreadable.  Filled with cryptic prose and long, scene-setting description that made little sense, it did nothing to explain or enlighten anything about the articles that follow. 

Given the dearth of  audio and video recordings from the Warhol years, a first-hand, insider's view of the band would be welcome.  But the first person accounts of the Exploding Plastic Inevitable shows are mainly short (less than a thousand words and often not more than a couple hundred) descriptions by baffled and overwhelmed writers.  Although if you've heard the audio of a concert from the time, in order to have a reference point (my first exposure was a bootleg of Columbus from November 4, 1966), you can read the account by Larry Mccombs from Chicago July 1966, close your eyes and almost imagine being there. 

There's an intolerable Lou Reed interview from 1969  in Open City (Reed at his absolute worst) which is balanced by a charming 1970 interview with Sterling Morrison for Fusion.  I didn't know anything about Fusion, but judging by the articles in this anthology, they had consistently good coverage of the VU.

The best material is from the last two years 1970-1971, with contributions from many excellent writers who report on the upcoming release of Loaded, the Max's Kansas City residency in New York in the summer of '70, and its aftermath with Lou Reed quitting the group.  This is where the narrative formed about the VU as an underrated entity that deserved a wider audience.  One even gets the impression that "Loaded" might have been a breakthrough album for them, given its radio friendly sensibilities and a seeming willingness by Atlantic to promote the album properly.  

Reading the 1970-1971 material got me thinking about which VU member "won" their early 90's reunion. Cale's recollections in his autobiography "What's Welsh For Zen" were mostly negative.  He wrote that Reed and his management team took over everything, presenting the reunion as a vehicle for Reed.  Cale didn't like the sound mixing on stage, and felt that the band didn't sound daring or adventurous enough. Cale also insisted that he wouldn't do the reunion without new material, and "Coyote" was written to placate him.  This surely wasn't what Cale had in mind -- a jukebox of their old songs and a single, new song (a substandard composition for either man) as a perfunctory nod toward being a living, contemporary band.  The VU split up only a couple of months into what could have been a creatively and financially successful reunion tour, they didn't play a single concert in the US.  

I have little doubt that the failure of the reunion was mostly due to Reed.  He wanted to rebrand himself as an alt-rock pioneer and get the acclaim that the likes of Neil Young did once grunge took off in 1991.  The VU were the expendable backing band in that pursuit.  But in the long run, Cale "won" the reunion  by successfully repackaging the VU as the Reed/Cale experimental drone rock version, rather than the FM radio friendly Reed/Yule version.  Their insistence at excluding Doug Yule meant that the live sets were heavy on the first two albums and the "V.U."/"Another View" material that Cale contributed to in '68 and '69.  Thus, Cale emerged from the reunion as the irreplaceable soul of the VU, who quietly faded into obscurity when he left.  But "All Yesterday's Parties" (and live documents such as the Quine Tapes) clearly show that the VU's best days as a touring band, and their best shot at national stardom came in the Yule era.  The advance press for "Loaded" was glowing and receptive. There was actual anticipation surrounding the record, and considering its accessibility, they had a finite shot at a breakthrough that would have been impossible with Cale in the band.