Nico: The Marble Index (1969)
'It kind of made us want to slit our wrists. "The Marble Index" isn't a record you listen to. It's a hole you fall into.' Frazier Mowhawk, producer
The legacy of 'The Velvet Underground & Nico' is long and enduring; from the generations of musicians it has inspired to rock and roll's default setting of rebellious destruction. The album also marked the beginning of the musical careers of a group of musicians ever ready to push the boundaries of music. The Velvets themselves travelled from the numb violence of 'White Light / White Heat' to the lilting pop of 'Loaded', Lou Reed has careered between the glam-pop of 'Transformer' to 'Metal Machine Music' (does what it says on the tin), whilst John Cale has tried everything from the orchestral pop of 'Paris 1919' to minimalist classical and experiments in electronica. Over the 40 odd years since 'The Velvet Underground & Nico' came out, the album's key players have released a bewildering array of seemingly contradictory musical experiments. But perhaps the single oddest piece of work recorded by anyone who worked on that album is 'The Marble Index'.
Nico was an ex-model who had grown up in a war-torn Germany. Inspired by ex-lover Jim Morrison, she decided to become a singer-songwriter. After an album of covers scuppered by daft production, she bought a harmonium and began work on 'The Marble Index'. Fellow Velvets refugee John Cale was brought in to help with the arrangements, but the songs themselves are Nico's work. It's interesting to compare 'The Marble Index' to the current Velvets album, the restrained and relatively conventional self-titled third LP. Brilliant though 'The Velvet Underground' was, it was arguably the first time that the Velvets sounded of their time. 'The Marble Index', to this day, sounds like nothing else on earth. Fuelled by her troubled childhood and her increasing heroin addiction, it must rank as one of the bleakest records ever created. Songs are based around one or two droning chords on Nico's harmonium and her cold, Teutonic voice. The melodies are reminiscent of German folk music, drawing as they do on modal scales rather then traditional western classical scales. On many of the tracks, the harmonium is removed, leaving only her voice and John Cale's arrangements. The record is sparse, cold and alien. It demands your full attention. If you let it, it slowly sucks you into its icy twilight world. I have been stuck in this record for about a week now. 'Lawns of Dawns' juxtaposes Nico's voice with Cale's harsh viola, as she sings 'Can you follow me / Can you follow my distress / My caresses / Fiery guesses', a challenge to the listener. Nico's world may be cold, harsh and bleak, but there is beauty to be found here. 'Ari's Song' is a fragile lullaby to Nico's child, as she implores her son to 'Sail away my little boy / Let the wind fill your heart with love and joy'. It almost feels like she is telling him to move on without her as she fades away, perhaps it is a premonition of her own early death. 'Facing The Wind' sees Nico helpless at the mercy of the winds of fate: 'It's holding me against my will / And doesn't leave me still', as the music builds around her in intensity, with John Cale hammering mercilessly at the piano. 'Frozen Warnings' is unremittingly bleak and intense, icy and unforgiving, with Nico at the peak of her powers. The record then closes with the twinkling twilight beauty of 'Evening of Light', in which Nico moans 'Midnight winds are landing at the end of time,' over Cale's cyclical celeste. Utterly devastating, it really feels like the end of the world.
'The Marble Index' ends at 30 minutes, as the producer thought the record was just to bleak to go on for any longer. But despite this, it is a fantastically complete work. It exists purely in its own sound world, nothing before or since comes close. In places, the mood and atmosphere, if not the music itself, reminds me of the terrifying second side of Joy Division's 'Closer', in which a numb Ian Curtis sounds like he had already passed on to the next world when they were recording the vocals. Following up such a perfect work was always going to be hard, but Nico's next album, 'Desertshores', is a great record that in places almost equals the power of its predecessor, and its follow-up, 'The End', has its moments too. Nico's work stands on its own, almost having more in common with minimalism or folk music then pop music. It may be bleak, harsh, unremitting and unforgiving, but it is utterly unique and possessed with a rare beauty that is all its own. In fact, out of all the albums released after 'The Velvet Undergound & Nico' by those responsible for it, 'The Marble Index' may be the best.
The legacy of 'The Velvet Underground & Nico' is long and enduring; from the generations of musicians it has inspired to rock and roll's default setting of rebellious destruction. The album also marked the beginning of the musical careers of a group of musicians ever ready to push the boundaries of music. The Velvets themselves travelled from the numb violence of 'White Light / White Heat' to the lilting pop of 'Loaded', Lou Reed has careered between the glam-pop of 'Transformer' to 'Metal Machine Music' (does what it says on the tin), whilst John Cale has tried everything from the orchestral pop of 'Paris 1919' to minimalist classical and experiments in electronica. Over the 40 odd years since 'The Velvet Underground & Nico' came out, the album's key players have released a bewildering array of seemingly contradictory musical experiments. But perhaps the single oddest piece of work recorded by anyone who worked on that album is 'The Marble Index'.
Nico was an ex-model who had grown up in a war-torn Germany. Inspired by ex-lover Jim Morrison, she decided to become a singer-songwriter. After an album of covers scuppered by daft production, she bought a harmonium and began work on 'The Marble Index'. Fellow Velvets refugee John Cale was brought in to help with the arrangements, but the songs themselves are Nico's work. It's interesting to compare 'The Marble Index' to the current Velvets album, the restrained and relatively conventional self-titled third LP. Brilliant though 'The Velvet Underground' was, it was arguably the first time that the Velvets sounded of their time. 'The Marble Index', to this day, sounds like nothing else on earth. Fuelled by her troubled childhood and her increasing heroin addiction, it must rank as one of the bleakest records ever created. Songs are based around one or two droning chords on Nico's harmonium and her cold, Teutonic voice. The melodies are reminiscent of German folk music, drawing as they do on modal scales rather then traditional western classical scales. On many of the tracks, the harmonium is removed, leaving only her voice and John Cale's arrangements. The record is sparse, cold and alien. It demands your full attention. If you let it, it slowly sucks you into its icy twilight world. I have been stuck in this record for about a week now. 'Lawns of Dawns' juxtaposes Nico's voice with Cale's harsh viola, as she sings 'Can you follow me / Can you follow my distress / My caresses / Fiery guesses', a challenge to the listener. Nico's world may be cold, harsh and bleak, but there is beauty to be found here. 'Ari's Song' is a fragile lullaby to Nico's child, as she implores her son to 'Sail away my little boy / Let the wind fill your heart with love and joy'. It almost feels like she is telling him to move on without her as she fades away, perhaps it is a premonition of her own early death. 'Facing The Wind' sees Nico helpless at the mercy of the winds of fate: 'It's holding me against my will / And doesn't leave me still', as the music builds around her in intensity, with John Cale hammering mercilessly at the piano. 'Frozen Warnings' is unremittingly bleak and intense, icy and unforgiving, with Nico at the peak of her powers. The record then closes with the twinkling twilight beauty of 'Evening of Light', in which Nico moans 'Midnight winds are landing at the end of time,' over Cale's cyclical celeste. Utterly devastating, it really feels like the end of the world.
'The Marble Index' ends at 30 minutes, as the producer thought the record was just to bleak to go on for any longer. But despite this, it is a fantastically complete work. It exists purely in its own sound world, nothing before or since comes close. In places, the mood and atmosphere, if not the music itself, reminds me of the terrifying second side of Joy Division's 'Closer', in which a numb Ian Curtis sounds like he had already passed on to the next world when they were recording the vocals. Following up such a perfect work was always going to be hard, but Nico's next album, 'Desertshores', is a great record that in places almost equals the power of its predecessor, and its follow-up, 'The End', has its moments too. Nico's work stands on its own, almost having more in common with minimalism or folk music then pop music. It may be bleak, harsh, unremitting and unforgiving, but it is utterly unique and possessed with a rare beauty that is all its own. In fact, out of all the albums released after 'The Velvet Undergound & Nico' by those responsible for it, 'The Marble Index' may be the best.
posted by Jonathan Thornton at 8:32 pm
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