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John Cale's screechy viola buzzes like a beeline through trebled guitars and Maureen Tucker's slow-plod drums. Lou Reed's lyrics reference Leopold von Sacher-Masoch's 19th century novel, Venus in Furs, in language and imagery that matches (and then laps) that book's late-romanticism: "Whiplash girl child in the dark/ Clubs and bells, your servant, don't forsake him/ Strike, dear mistress, and cure his heart." The sound is lusciously decadent. The march itself feels so perversely languorous-- a parade for fur-wearing women and those who desire to submit to them. --Brandon Stosuy |
