Velvet Underground+nico~andy Warhol Banana Cvr~orig'67 Verve Lp~torso Back ~mint
This item have been sold for $753.00
Auction Details:
Code ID
#11993
Ebay Item #
161967446021
Sold Price
$753.00
Bids
21
Auction End date
09 Feb 2016
Seller Location
Rego Park, New York
Item Description
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VELVET
UNDERGROUND - VELVET
UNDERGROUND AND NICO (1ST ALBUM, ALSO KNOWN AS THE 'BANANA
COVER') - ORIGINAL 1967 VERVE STEREO LP V6-5008Â WITH
FULL AND UNCENSORED, ORIGINAL "TORSO" BACK COVER (ERIC EMERSON’S
TORSO IS PRESENT AND FULLY VISIBLE)
·
THE INFAMOUS PEELABLE BANANA STICKER IS
COMPLETELY PEELED-OFF; IN ORDER TO RECONSTRUCT THE ORIGINAL ARTWORK, WE HAVE
AFFIXED A HIGH-RESOLUTION REPLICA
STICKER OVER THE PINK BANANA (FROM THE BEST
SOURCES AVAILABLE), SO AS TO RECONSTITUTE THE ORIGINAL COVER AS BEST AS WAS
POSSIBLEÂ (FRANKLY, WE DOUBT THAT EVEN
ANDY WARHOL COULD TELL A DIFFERENCE!); AGAIN: THE COVER AND THE RECORD ARE BOTH
ORIGINAL, AUTHENTIC FIRST PRESSINGS; HOWEVER, THE BANANA STICKER IS A
HIGH-QUALITY REPLICA.
·
ORIGINAL
U.S. PRESSING
·
ORIGINAL BLUE VERVE
LABEL WITH LARGE T-SHAPED LOGO AND SILVER PRINT.
·
THIS IS THE ORIGINAL,
AUTHENTIC, FIRST U.S. PRESSING; THIS IS NOT A REISSUE, AN IMPORT, OR A
COUNTERFEIT PRESSING.
·
ORIGINAL GATEFOLD COVER, MADE OF THICK CARDBOARD (AMERICAN
STYLE)Â
·
THICK, HEAVY VINYL
PRESSING
·
CLEAN, WEAR-FREE LABELS
(►
IMAGE OF THE COVER, LABEL OR BOTH, SHOWN BELOW)
(Note:
this is a REAL image of the ACTUAL item you are bidding on. This
is NOT a "recycled" image from our previous auction. What you see is what you’ll
get. GUARANTEED!)
♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫♪♫
any reservations or exaggerations, in full responsibility, sound mind and good
conscience that THIS
most important album in Rock history and the single most influential Rock
session of the 20th Century – far exceeding in musical and historical importance EVEN the
most important albums by The Beatles, Rolling Stones, Bob Dylan, Jimi Hendrix,
Led Zeppelin or The Doors. BID NOW. DON’T WAIT. THE
ORIGINAL PRESSINGS WITH “UNCENSORED†(TORSO) COVERS APPEAR ON EBAY ONLY EVERY
OTHER YEAR OR SO…
modest first album – recorded by a heretofore unknown band, under medieval and
chaotic conditions, to no corporate fanfare, with very little promotion or
marketing and almost zero sales, managed to surpass in its musical brilliance
and artistic and stylistic importance even such cornerstones of Rock music as
The Beatles’ Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts’ Club Band; The Rolling Stones’
Beggar’s Banquet; Jimi Hendrix’ “Are
you experienced†or Bob Dylan’s “Blonde on Blonde�
these fine rock classics sold millions, made a huge splash, big noise, exploded
for a few weeks or months, topped the charts, illuminated the minds of
their contemporaries’ and rivals’ alike,
influenced some artists (and alienated the others) and then retired into a
comfortable niche of the “rock classicâ€
status bestowed upon them over the next few years and decades. In other words,
they may be historically and critically important, but they are for all
practical purposes DEAD – they are museum exhibits, of their time and place,
but not of this moment; of this time and place; beautiful pieces carved
into cold, hard marble, but aged, cold and definitely not breathing.
Make no mistake: all these rock classics are our personal favorites. But they
carry no immediate or permanent importance, personal resonance and contemporary
message. Their age shows, and it shows in ways that are not always
complementary or graceful.
Underground and Nico. The album has had a life like no other in the history of
popular music. From its modest, humble beginnings (except for three tracks, the
sessions took place after Columbia already declined to sign up the band, in a
decrepit Wand/Scepter studio that was literally being demolished as the band
was recording in it), the album snowballed – despite all possible legal,
commercial and marketing complications and distractions – into a massive force
of its own; an artistic equivalent of avalanche or tsunami. A cultural paradigm
not unlike that of the Birth of Jazz, or the dawn of the abstract art (Andy
Warhol’s subversive, eye-popping, brain-teasing banana artwork clearly playing
a major role in this).
another work of art comparable to this album (and this is a BIG “ifâ€), it
surely would not be a Rock album --Â
for there are NO known cultural antecedents and predecessors in
the world of popular music, and no points of reference either. The only comparable thing that comes to mind
would be Picasso’s Girls of Avignon, or Stravinsky’s Rites of Spring (both from
1913). In the world of contemporary music, the only session that comes
reasonably close to the level of the chutzpah and artistic courage of the
Velvets’ first album would be John Coltrane’s Ascension (recorded barely a year
prior to Velvet Underground and Nico, and quite possibly exerting a strong
influence on both Reed and Cale; compare, for example, the maddening
cacophonics of the Velvets’ European son with the gushing, unrestrained
eruptions of Coltrane’s pure, protean expression, to see what we mean).
there are not too many precedents. These works of art are some of the most
radical, revolutionary conceptions ever, causing uproar and upheaval of
galactic proportions (and in the case of Stravinsky’s ‘Rites of Spring, even a
public riot – quite literally!); just like Velvet Underground’s first album,
these astonishing works are one-way-ticket departures from all existing norms
and forms, dispensing with all structures, conventions and rules once and for
all. Think of the Velvets’ first album as Lou Reed and John Cale taking pop
music to the guillotine and waving its somewhat slightly detached head to the
shocked masses thereafter. Forty one year later, it is still too radical and revolutionary
for some narrow minds.
able to maintain this level of brilliance over the next 40 years of his career,
he can easily be forgiven: this album has more brilliance, creativity and
ingenuity (and make no mistake, Nico, Cale, Tucker and Morrison ALL equally
co-participated in it) to last a lifetime; certainly more than many artists’
entire careers worth of. It’s almost as if Lou Reed spurted all his creative
energy on this one session, leaving precious little left for his subsequent
works (although this by no means was his sole masterpiece; there would be more
to come).
evolution that Velvet Underground single-handedly begat and nourished is still
alive and well, bearing shoots, leaves and fruits (and an occasional dud here
and there) long after many larger (and thicker) branches of Rock evolution have
withered, died and fallen off. The Velvets’ esthetic vision is as alive and
vibrant today as it was 40 years ago, if not more so. If it were for its lasting durability and longevity alone, the
album would deserve to be called a Titan.
this album that hasn’t already been said? The album that defi(n)ed the era; the
music that shattered conventions, the production that influenced everyone over
the next four decades, the lyrics that sound fresher today than they did in
1967 and the Andy Warhol artwork that still captures the imagination. This is a
sexy, moody, brilliant and occasionally violent work that would be impossible
to reproduce today, in the age of political correctness gone amok. Most
importantly, THE MUSIC!!!. This is the only album that will make you a honorary
resident of New York City, without you ever having to set foot in it. From the
opening track ("Sunday Morning"), to the last one ("European
son"), Lou Reed, John Cale, Nico and the rest of the crew take you through
the kaleidoscope of emotions, settings, ambients, situations, moods and rhythms,
not all of which are for the faint of heart. The album includes some of the
most beautiful, poetic imagery ever committed to a disc (I’ll be your mirror;
Famme Fatale; Venus in Furs). Whether you are into singers-songwriters,
pre-punk, beatnik poetry, or ‘60’s rock, this is a must-have.
album’s artistic vision, and the proverbial ‘red thread’ that runs through it,
it is the depiction of human nature in all its aspects: the good, the bad and
the ugly (mostly the latter). The narrative is in the first or the third
person, often situational (as in “I’m waiting for my manâ€), focusing on
anxiety, addiction, loneliness, pain, perversion, sex, death, urban cacophony
(no, folks, this is NOT your typical flower-power record), and are interspersed
with quieter (and shorter), introspective songs and moody, lyrical passages.
There is no moralizing involved, no judgmental posturing or sermonizing. Like
all great writers of the past, Lou Reed leaves that role to the listener.
The naturalistic, ultra-realistic, at times
near-savage depictions of desires, cravings, infliction of pain (on self as
well as others), scenes of bodily decay and psycho-physical deprivation and
dislocation leave listener wanting to do something, but what? Lou Reed’s
morally neutral position as a narrator-in-chief and his status as passive
observer does not help the listener or provide any guidance. One is never quite
sure whether Lou Reed is a cynical observer, a critic, an antagonist, a chief
protagonist, or perhaps all of the above.Â
The narrator’s intent is about as inscrutable as that mysterious banana
on the cover. You will read into this
album whatever you want to. The medium is NOT the message here; the LISTENER
is.
The effect on the listener is eerily
disquieting. The songs – at first listen – have the feel of Emile Zola’s novel
(transplanted to New York), roman à clef, or perhaps a film noir. In any event,
the “French Connection†(the palpable influence of the French modernists,
symbolists and naturalists) is more than evident, from the album’s first verse
to its final fade. In many ways, this is the single most “European†album ever
created in the United States, although with a distinctly New York flair, flavor
and aroma (or stench, depending on one’s perspective).
album’s highly successful and influential formula appears to rest not so much
in musicianship or in crafty songwriting, as in its tricky, creative, almost
seductive track sequencing. The tracks flow and segue from each other naturally
and organically, although – paradoxically -Â
in some unpredictable and schizophrenic fashion, like a bunch of
seemingly unrelated, disconnected vignettes. The sudden changes in song
textures and moods, and unexpected
tempo shifts, create a schizo-like,Â
stop-and-go pattern, a tension-and-release adrenaline rush that never
ends.  The listener is constantly being
kick-started into a new mindset, a new vignette, a new emotional context.
the focusing on negative sides of the human psyche, the album is never
pessimistic or depressive. The contrasting moments of quiet beauty, joy and
exuberance, as in “I’ll be your mirrorâ€, “Femme Fatale†or “Sunday Morningâ€
(which could easily be confused for a Peter, Paul and Mary tune, perhaps as an
unintentional parody) are more than enough to compensate for its overwhelming
darkness. This is one perfect example
of consonance and dissonance resting side-by-side, feeding off of each other and
thriving on each other in a perfect yin-and-yang unison.
the album very accurately and in graphic detail reflects the life of a typical
New York counterculture artist at the dawn of the psychedelic era, circa 1966.
It is nothing short of amazing how relevant and alive this music still is.
Nothing seems to have change since 1966, except the world climate and
presidential candidates.
much coveted - first version of the Velvet
Underground's "Banana Cover" album, WITH AN UNCENSORED
(UN-AIRBRUSHED) image of the actor Eric Emerson's torso hanging upside-down,
above the band performing on stage  (there would
be five versions altogether, with various combinations of back and front
panels). Because Emerson objected to being included on the cover without his
permission (and, more importantly, without adequate financial compensation), he
filed a lawsuit against Verve (possibly even Warhol himself), who then decided
to – rather than reach a costly out-of-court settlement with Emerson – either
airbrush Emerson’s torso, or camouflage it by pasting a large black “song
titles†sticker over the questionable torso.
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