Review: Vinyl Reissues of John Cale's 'The Academy in Peril' and 'Paris 1919'

As the bringer of shuddering waves of viola and a general avant-garde spirit to the first two Velvet Underground records, John Cale may have seemed like the Velvet least likely to be poised for a solo pop career. Cale almost immediately confounded any such expectations with his debut solo album. Despite its disturbing cover shot of Cale in a clear mask fit only for the least convivial serial killer, Vintage Violence was a tribute to The Band's rustic yet tuneful Americana-as-seen-by-an-outsider slant. His subsequent sometimes lovely, sometimes cacophonous collaboration with experimental composer Terry Riley, The Church of Anthrax, reminded those listening to not get too comfortable. 

Cale recorded those albums for Columbia/CBS before moving to Reprise. If his new label was hoping for more of the light poppiness of Vintage Violence, rather than the challenge of Church of Anthrax, then to bad for them. The Academy in Peril was another largely instrumental, largely experimental platter, a half-completed symphony by its author's own account. A couple of percussive pieces ("The Philosopher", "King Harry"), a few searching piano solos ("Brahms", "The Academy in Peril", "John Milton"), a cheeky showcase for Cale's ever-haunting viola and the comic nattering of the Bonzo Dog Band's zaniest member ("Legs Larry at Television Center"), a medley of three orchestral pieces ("3 Orchestral Pieces"), and one tidy pop song sans vocal ("Days of Steam"). If anything, Academy in Peril was further out than Anthrax. 

Then Cale did that which was seeming increasingly unthinkable: he made a collection of absolutely delectable, beautifully crafted, suspiciously normal songs. If Paul McCartney had made Paris 1919, it might have stabilized his wobbly critical standing more assuredly than Band on the Run did and surely would have sold zillions. Cale had to be satisfied missing the US charts altogether (as he almost always would) and knowing that he'd made a simply smashing album. 

Created under the thrall of Procol Harum, Little Feet (members of which contribute to the record), and lots and lots of cocaine, Paris 1919 is like a distillation of everything good happening in rock-circa 1973, with its glammy stomps ("Child's Christmas in Wales", "Macbeth"), singer-songwritery loveliness ("Hanky Panky Nohow", the utterly aching "Andalucia"), pomp and elegance (the magnificent title track), reggatta de blanc ("Graham Green"), and spacey romanticism ("Half Past France"). The only thing missing was a bit of Sabbath/Zep metal, but that may have spoiled the fairly sunny atmosphere, at least for those who didn't bother homing in on the grim lyrics. 

Cale's two extremely different two albums for Reprise are now being reissued on vinyl by Domino Records, which brought us fine pressings of his former bandmate Nico's second and third albums earlier this year. Like those, The Academy in Peril and Paris 1919 arrive on very quiet vinyl with three-dimensional sound, though without any of the groove distortion sometimes noticeable on the Nico records. Both Cale discs sound spacious, with clean highs and clear lows. The vinyl is quiet and beautifully pressed, and Paris features a disc of bonus material, including alternate versions and mixes of a number of the album's songs, such as a viola-heavy version of "Hanky Panky Nohow" that sounds like the prettiest refugee from Nico's Marble Index and a lovely one floating on a cloud of chiming acoustic guitars; stripped-down versions of "Child's Christmas in Wales", "Half Past France" and "Macbeth"; a spacey nine-minute track loosely related to the title track called "Fever Dream 2024: You're a Ghost"; and lots and lots of sniffing.