It could be argued that after John Cale left the ranks of the Velvet Underground the band was never the same – that means as good. Of course, that’s completely arbitrary, but the fact that the concept has repeatedly found its way into otherwise sensible discussions of the Velvet’s music, it would seem that there’s some credence to it.

That being said, the Velvets, even as augmented by the Yules, were a great band. Cale’s continued lionization, though, points directly towards the importance of his contributions to not just that one New York outfit, but to his work before and after his partnership with Lou Reed.

Releasing solo work and a few sparse collaborations during the ‘70s wound up making Cale a career musician – almost in a pop vein. But there was always a current of experimentation to his recordings, even the least appealing ones as listeners get ever closer to the ‘80s. With that being said, though, the work that Cale did prior to joining the ranks of the Velvet Underground could be perceived as equally important.

Interesting to a slimmer segment of the music listening audience, the experimental recordings that Cale was ensconced in prior to playing rock and roll informed future generations of straight and weird musicians. The Velvet’s are always going to be more accessible, but if listeners seek an entrance into experimental music, Cale performing alongside La Monte Young, Tony Conrad, Angus MacLise (the Velvet’s first drummer) and occasionally Sterling Morrison (the Velvets guitarist) is probably the best starting point.

Everything that ‘60s experimental music represents gets a nod on the series of recordings rounding up Cale’s work with the aforementioned crew in a group alternately called Theatre of Eternal Music and the Dream Syndicate.

Over the four discs that seek to explicate Cale’s trajectory as a performer, one finds the Welshman alongside his band using everything from tape loops to old tyme keyboards and hand drums. On the third installment of the series, Stainless Gamelan: Inside The Dream Syndicate, Vol. 03,  a wide range of music is related.

Nothing sits at the center of the album reigning it all in. Instead, Cale and company work out five dramatically different approaches to ‘out’ music. Perhaps the first two offerings are the most similar, but that’s only when examined with the most liberal of ears. The title track is just what it might intimate – an attempt by classically trained westerners to approximate Indonesian music. The fact that an early droning affect is achieved makes the offering a surprise success, but as it moves forward the lack of variation is troublesome over the course of the song’s 10 minute run time. Yes, it’s purposefully repetitive, but that doesn’t make it something worth a concerted listen.

Most unique – perhaps out of the entire series of albums – is Terry Jennings’ “Terry's Cha-Cha.” It’s not exactly what it sounds like, but Jennings goes to town on his soprano sax. The track’s the most traditional piece represented here even as it easily draws a line from La Monte Young’s solo work to the Velvet Underground. And what’s more, you might be able to dance to it.