July 2004


I have some good news and some bad news. First, the good news.

Consider yourself warmly welcomed to the second instalment of Grand Theft Audio, the first column exclusively devoted to the critical review of bootleg records ever to appear in a mainstream commercial rock magazine.

Most of you know what bootleg record is by now, but if you don't I'll reiterate for ya: a bootleg record contains live concert performances or rare studio tracks (rehearsals, demos, alternate takes) by a musician which have not been officially released by a record company and therefore cannot be bought in a commercial record store.

Speaking of which, our lawyers insist that we make the following standard Bootleg Disclaimer: namely, that this column is written purely for educational use only, that no one connected with CREEM knows where to buy bootleg records, and that CREEM does not advocate or endorse the purchase or use of any unauthorized sound recordings of any kind. So there.

That said, it's time to dip into the old rock critic mailbag to answer this quizzical query from Stan Spooner of Throg's Neck, New York, who writes: "Dear Machine Rock. Thanks for explaining what a bootleg record is. I always hear record companies complain about pirate records. Is there a difference?"

Excellent question, Stan! You bet your boots there's a huge difference between bootleg records and pirate records, each of which has absolutely nothing whatsoever to do with the other. So no matter what the record industry tells you, bootleg records and pirate records are most definitely NOT the same.

For one thing, a bootleg record, as outlined above, contains material that the record companies will never release, unless they're shamed into it by the bootleggers (for example, you can thank the bootleggers for the recent authorized archival releases by the Beatles' Let It Be...Naked, Bob Dylan's The Bootleg Series, and Led Zeppelin's How The West Was Won). Also, despite their continual historical importance, boots are not always the easiest thing to buy due to their underground outlaw status as well as the fact that most bootlegs are manufactured in quantities as low as a thousand copies per title—not a lot for a worldwide market.

A pirate record, however, is a cheaply made digital counterfeit copy of an existing record that has already been commercially released by an authentic record company. At first glance, these pirated copies look just like the versions for sale in a retail outlet, right down to their scanned or photocopied front and back covers. Sometimes you'll see them being sold on sidewalks at a fraction of the cost of the genuine article, right alongside the fake Rolexes and Gucci bags.

Audio CD and video DVD piracy is especially rife on other continents, and it's these exact digital copies of commercially released product that's giving the major labels a major headache. Unlike the allure of pirate radio stations, there is absolutely nothing whatsoever even remotely romantic or honorable about these audio pirates, and the record companies are completely justified in going after them with everything they've got.

Forget the phantom menace of downloading: it's the counterfeit cartels who are really killing the music business. Certainly not the bootleggers who cater to a loyal devoted fan base by keeping the music alive and who, as noted above, usually have a global print run of a thousand copies per title. Which is a very small drop in the digital bucket.

Besides, if the major record labels and the RIAA are so genuinely concerned about how downloading individual songs is cutting into their sales figures (read: profit margins) and preventing musicians and songwriters from receiving their rightfully earned royalties—you know, just like they've been faithfully and accurately paying artists like Chuck Berry and Little Richard for the past 50 years—then don't you think it's odd that they never say a word about public libraries lending out all their records for free, or used record stores selling them outright for a fraction of their retail cost? Just wondering.

Now for the bad news.

As you may already know—and I certainly hate to be the one to break it to you if you don't—punk rock pioneer and versatile guitarist extraordinaire Robert Quine died last month at the age of 61, leaving behind a decades-long legacy of music that cuts a wide influential swath across many genres. From his seminal groundbreaking work with Richard Hell on the first Voidoids album Blank Generation, Quine went on to record with dozens of artists over the ensuing years, including Eno, Marianne Faithful, Tom Waits, John Zorn, Matthew Sweet, Lloyd Cole, and Lou Reed.

However, one of Quine's most enduring legacies involves an album that he never played a note on. Twelve years before he recorded and toured with Unca Lou on albums like The Blue Mask and Live In Italy, not only was Quine a rabid Velvet Underground fan, he also happened to be friends with the band. As a result, in 1969 he was in a privileged position to be able to record hours of post-Cale pre-Loaded shows in San Francisco and St. Louis on cassette.

In 2001, Polydor/Universal finally released these digitally transferred and restored tapes in a revelatory three disc set called The Velvet Underground – Bootleg Series Volume 1: The Quine Tapes.

Quine captured a unique time and place in the band's history where 40 minute versions of "Sister Ray" jockeyed for position with 20 minute versions of "Follow The Leader." But as historically valuable as Quine's tapes are, they're by no means the only source of unreleased Velvet Underground material extant.

In a 1976 interview with CREEM writer Jeffrey Morgan, Lou Reed talked about The Velvet Underground Live At Max's Kansas City and how he got Atlantic Records to officially release Brigid Polk's live cassette tape:

REED: It's the only way you can ever know what Max's was like for real on a Sunday night with the house band who was, who else? Who else but us could've survived there? Jim Carroll trying to get Pernods…I mean, it's priceless.

MORGAN: I loved the way they had to stamp "Mono" on all the original copies.

REED: They had to put a thing on it. We talked them into it, too. We said, "Hey, it'll be your first legal bootleg. Isn't that hip? Isn't that hip?" Really, really. Love it.

Amazingly, for a band that made a negligible contemporary impact while they were around, the Velvets were disproportionately bootlegged by a select number of avid fans like Polk and Quine.

Numerous vinyl-era audience-recorded boots like Live At The Boston Tea Party and VU Live '68 (on Lurid Records, geddit?) showcased the Doug Yule-era band at various venues across America.

Then, in 1979 and 1982 respectively, the dual release of The Velvet Underground – Etc and The Velvet Underground (And So On) filled an important void by compiling previously released but hitherto unavailable material that ranged from arcane ESP and flexi-disc appearances to Lou Reed's early pre-Velvets sweatshop singles. Again, from the 1976 interview:

REED: Some kid came up to me in Cleveland showing me these old records, I don't know how he got them, on Pickwick International when I was a songwriter and we were doing things like "Johnny Can't Surf No More" and "I've Got A Tiger In My Tank."

MORGAN: You're kidding me.

REED: No, they're fantastic songs.

Hey, who am I to argue with a guy who wrote all the songs on his first ten solo albums during his Velvet Underground days? But if you really want to hear some fantastic songs, then the absolute motherlode to get is a CD that came out on the Rarities And Few label in 1990.

Recorded in Ohio on November 4th 1966, Down For You Is Up is one of the few Velvet Underground bootlegs that can accurately be ascribed to 'The Velvet Underground And Nico' because it actually does feature the legendary short-lived line-up of Lou Reed, John Cale, Sterling Morrison, Maureen Tucker, and Nico.

Wondering what the title means? Here's Lou, once more with feeling:

REED: The definition of a manic depressive is: "As high as you go is as low as you go; therefore, you've experienced energy and beauty." One of the peripheral effects is that as high as you go is as low as you go.

MORGAN: And when you hit the bottom, you know that you can look up.

REED: You know what up is.

On Down For You Is Up, Nico provides the beauty when she sings "All Tomorrow's Parties" and "Femme Fatale." The energy part of the set comes when the rest of the band performs "I'm Waiting For The Man," "Venus In Furs," "The Black Angel's Death Song," "Heroin," and an extended nine minute version of "Run Run Run" that at one point eerily foreshadows the as-yet-to-be-recorded "The Gift."

For a 1966 mono audience recording of a notoriously distortion-laden band, the sound is surprisingly unmuffled with the vocals being especially clear. And although there's a certain amount of tape crackle present, that's a small price to pay to hear an actual live performance by 'The Velvet Underground And Nico' shortly before her enforced exile.

I'm certainly not complaining—and I'm willing to bet that Robert Quine would second that emotion.