The pursuit of pop success doesn’t usually ensure anything for a band – and especially not for a group that actively works towards achieving a sound that’s at once rock, avant-garde, noise and funky in a junky kinda way. The Velvet Underground today probably count one of the largest underground following of any ‘60s band that was able to miss the radio and the charts. That of course really has no impact on the music that the group created over time. But after the release of Loaded in 1970 – the band’s fourth long player and ostensibly their final disc – a few of the players who participated in the recording process went on without Lou Reed to lay down Squeeze in 1973.

As Loaded represented to most straight forward and concerted effort of the Velvets to impact the radio culture that had grown up around the ‘60s weirdo rock scene and of course the Beatles, the studio effort included more than just a few lilting melodies and harmonies. While the vocal duties were by and large handed over to Doug Yule, Reed still maintained the song writing credits. But as some sort of prescient figuring Loaded served to introduce the personage who would become the front man of the short lived post-Reed Velvets.

With the lack of impact that Loaded had on the American populace, Reed saw fit to go solo and record a slew of albums over the next few decades that wouldn’t wind up getting too near to the Velvets’ glory. But as he endlessly chased an artistic and monetary success, Doug Yule enlisted his brother, a Bostoner named Willie Alexander in addition to Moe Tucker in order to record Squeeze. The album clearly lacks any sort of artistic aplomb and suffers from a bland ‘70s production of which early Velvets’ line ups not only avoided, but actively possessed a disdain for. Gone are the muddy tracks mixing viola a nasty sounding guitar and monotone vocals.

Instead Yule and company worked to replicate a staid rock approach that here owes as much to a Beach Boys lineage as anything else. The one saving grace of all of this, though, is the fact that Yule’s vocals at times bear a striking resemblance to those of Reed – which may have been the cause of the former’s heavy inclusion on Loaded. But even that one aspect of the ’73 line-up of the Velvets doesn’t make Squeeze a desirable addition to one’s record collection.

It’s been called the worst album ever recorded and while that is probably a tremendous over statement, Squeeze is pretty bland. But considering some of the schlock that Reed would go on to be involved in – and yes Metal Machine Music is kinda worthless beyond any of its conceptual trappings – this final Velvet’s disc might not be the worst thing in the world. Of course, the only reason it’s not been completely discounted is because of the name that it’s filed under. The disc probably fetches a few sheckels, so if you find a cheapo copy, snag it and hock it.