So, my lovelies, this is the first issue of Covers wherein our focal point is a band, rather than a genre (and there shall be many more issues like this in the future – so if you don’t like it, you better bugger off now).

We have decided for the inaugural issue of this kind, to wrap our words and photos around the Velvet Underground’s members. That was filthy. We tried in vain for many months to get an interview with Lou Reed – and I’d like to extend the invitation to Mr. Reed to be interviewed as the center-point of an issue based solely and squarely on him. The same, I might add, goes to John Cale.

I first discovered the Velvet Underground through Lou Reed’s solo stuff: back when people used to order 6 tapes for a penny each through the mail, I got a hold of “Street Hassle”. I kept listening to the track “I Wanna Be Black” – it was one of the most racist tracks I’d ever heard, but there was such an attitude of “I don’t give a fuck” – a proper attitude – that it made me want to hear more. I wanted more of the irreverent tirade.

Oddly, once I got into the Velvets, I gravitated towards Nico. She was the Queen of the I Don’t Give a Fucks and it comes through every note she sings, every song she plays, both with the Velvets and within her strange and drug-fueled solo career. It all made sense to a fella –me – who did give a fuck to yearn to feel the opposite – to be digested into something he’s not. To play in the make believe. To swim in the Velvet Underground.

Cover illustration by Teena Collins.