DOUG YULE

DOUG YULE

FEATURES

Thomas Anderson

Doug Yule has gotten a bad rap. Even though in post-Velvet Underground years Lou Reed both recorded and toured with him, the story endures that he was the person who tried to usurp the band from Lou’s control, and was therefore responsible for the band’s breakup.

Doug has rarely gotten the chance to answer the accusations in print, so your CREEM reporter called him in New York—where he’s now employed as an architectural wood-worker—for his side of the story.

What led to your joining the Velvets?

I was working with a band in Boston, living in an apartment owned by the manager of my band, who was also a friend of Steve Sesnick (the Velvets’ manager). The Velvets used to stay there on occasion. One time when Sterling was staying there, I was practicing guitar, and he made an off-the-wall comment that he thought I was getting pretty good. Nobody really thought about it until John and Lou had their disagreement. And the fact that I was a Pisces, that was very important.

I always maintain that I got picked to join the Velvets because I was a Pisces that played bass rather than a good guitar player.

What was the name of your old band?

The Grass Menagerie. It was sort of the progressive rock of the time, ’67, ’68.

So how did it all come about, Lou leaving the band?

We were playing Max’s for the whole summer (1970). This is just my side of the story, OK? Steve (Sesnick) at that time, was very manipulative. He kept people suspicious of each other, telling them different stories—and he had placed himself in a position that he was sort of Lou’s best and only friend. Lou put a great deal of trust in him. He depended a great deal on Steven. During that summer, I guess, Steven decided Lou was no longer manageable, so he began to look to me because I was young and more easily handled. So he told Lou he was through with him, that he didn’t care about him, and it upset Lou quite a bit. That’s when Lou left. He had me sort of believing I would be the next Paul McCartney. So I stepped into the spotlight—and away we went. But when John and Lou were onstage—or when me and Lou were onstage—there was a balance. With Lou gone, the balance was gone. It wasn’t the same.

Then you did the final Lou-less Velvet Underground album, Squeeze, in England, right?

We were traveling in London. It was me, Walter (Powers), Maureen (Tucker), and Willie (Alexander). Steven worked out a deal with Polydor to do an album. I was gonna go in and do it, and it was decided to just use a drummer because we weren’t sure how the group was gonna change. So I went in and did—in record time—all the songs.

The Velvets eventually disintegrated. How did you hook up with Lou during the Sally Can’t Dance sessions?

I was working for a company that prints record jackets at the time. Lou called and asked me to drop over because he needed a bass part done. I remember they were working with a saxophone player.

I guess he was a converted street musician because he used to play on a unicycle or something like that. Anyway, I popped in and did the part and it worked real well.

And the ’75 tour?

He gave me a call. He had found a band and he wanted me to go out with them. A number of the reviewers said it was the closest to the old Velvets that Lou had been for awhile. It had that kind of looseness, in terms of improvisational ability, the ability to follow Lou through stuff. And Lou was participating in it, where with other bands he had participated less or not at all.

The Velvets seem more popular than ever— V.U. and Another View both sold well. Anything more you’d like to say about your reputation as the “villain” of the band?

I’m generally regarded as the bad boy, y’know, the interloper. I never set out to break up the Velvet Underground or to take over. I think my biggest fault was being kind of stupid and naive and just not being aware—being so intent on success that I didn’t really look to see what was going on around me.

Any messages for the folks out there, Doug?

Well, I always wanted to say hello and goodbye to all the people I met when I was in rock ’n’ roll, and never got to see again. I’ve always felt like writing a letter to some magazine to say hello to everyone I never saw again.