More Boom Tunes
Of all the rockers who came out of the ‘60s, John Cale is one of the most individualistic. Before co-founding the Velvet Underground with Lou Reed, he was a classically-trained musician and also worked with avant-garde legend Lamonte Young. The Velvets, of course, tore up the rock rulebook and created a new future for everyone. What’s intriguing about Cale is how little credit he gets for it. It’s like he knows what he did, and could care less if anyone else does. By the time he recorded Paris 1919, he’d taken enough musical side trips he could have gone into the map business if he wanted. Instead, Cale recruited Lowell George and Richie Hayward from Little Feat, L.A. session bassist Wilton Felder and the UCLA Symphony Orchestra for this East meets West opus. It has all the elements of a synthesis previously unheard, neither loud nor soft. What it is, really, is smart without ever showing off. Cale’s Welsh darkness might creep in through the corners, but the wide-open spread of this opening song promises a whole new view. George’s slide-guitar sounds full of a child’s glee, and while the orchestra wails away and Hayward’s drums make sure the forward momentum never fails, John Cale sets the trap. By the time we find out just what’s in store, the singer has us and the only thing left is hoping he’s got a little mercy left in his heart. He does, thankfully, and over the next eight songs we watch a man paint his masterpiece. Iggy Pop, Patti Smith, Brian Eno and a whole world waited for him after this album, but the future is still written right here.





