The Velvet Underground - Run Run Run

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"Run Run Run" is a song by The Velvet Underground originally released on the band's 1967 debut album, The Velvet Underground & Nico. The song was written on the back of an envelope by Lou Reed while he and the band were on their way to a gig at the Café Bizarre. The song details a number of characters living in New York City, including Teenage Mary, Margarita Passion, Seasick Sarah, and Beardless Harry; all of whom are detailed using or seeking drugs. In addition to mentioning New York scenery such as Union Square and 47th Street, the song makes use of drug terms paired with religious imagery. Two of the four verses directly speak of heroin use, a theme found in the album. In the song, Marguerita Passion tried to sell her soul in order to get "a fix", while Seasick Sarah "turned blue", causing her angels to panic. The song is also well known because of Lou Reed's guitar solo, and its lack of a conventional approach.

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"One chord is fine.Two chords is pushing it.Three chords is jazz" Lou reed

anthonymusto

Simply the most honest rock n roll band ever. Called it as they saw it

johneaton

Velvet Underground is the sound of rhythm and blues on its worst day- and that's a compliment.

robbieclark

I love how velvet underground was basically blues music turned into hell, precursors of punk, noise rock, experimental

hippiecheezburger

Teenage Mary said to Uncle Dave
I sold my soul, must be saved
Gonna take a walk down to Union Square
You never know who you're gonna find there
You gotta run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy Death and you
Tell you whatcha do

Marguerita Passion had to get her fix
She wasn't well, she was getting sick
Went to sell her soul, she wasn't high
Didn't know, thinks she could buy it
And she would run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy Death and you
Tell you whatcha do

Seasick Sarah had a golden nose
Hobnail boots wrapped around her toes
When she turned blue, all the angels screamed
They didn't know, they couldn't make the scene
She had to run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy Death and you
Tell you whatcha do

Beardless Harry, what a waste
Couldn't even get a small town taste
Rode the trolleys down to forty seven
Figured he was good to get himself to heaven
'Cause he had to run, run, run, run, run
Take a drag or two
Run, run, run, run, run
Gypsy Death and you
Tell you whatcha do

Romano_Ochoa

My personal favourite on the album. So darn catchy with some filthy distorted guitar soloing.

FrankieTeardrop

Lou Reed's lyrics are very much in the tradition of American Confessional poetry (Delmore Schwartz, Robert Lowell, John Berryman, Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton), hardboiled and underground fiction (Raymond Chandler, Nelson Algren, John Rechy, Hubert Selby, Jr.), and the Beats (Ginsberg, Kerouac, Burroughs). He writes about taboo subjects in a style that is terse, stark, matter-of-fact, and yet intensely personal and idiosyncratic.

The majority of Lou Reed's early drug songs -- such as "I'm Waiting for the Man", "Heroin", and "White Light/White Heat" -- are written in the first-person voice of a user describing his experience. In contrast, "Run Run Run" is written in the disinterested third-person voice of a jaded back-alley raconteur -- possibly a drug dealer -- which adds a curious layer of ambiguous, alienated irony to its overall narrative framing. The song's four verses are structured as self-contained vignettes or anecdotes that describe various oddballs and misfits run-run-running downtown to chase the ultimate drug-induced high which will always end in a fatal overdose. Like "Heroin", "Run Run Run" juxtaposes lurid descriptions of drug use with impassioned and somewhat disturbing religious imagery ("I sold my soul, must be saved" and "When she turned blue, all the angels screamed"). The discordant improvised guitar solos that follow each verse (and repetition of the chorus) evoke the ecstatic rush and spiritual epiphany experienced by the addict before he or she finally succumbs to oblivion.

With its relentless, Bo Diddley-goes-Motorik beat overlaid with oddly tuned twangy guitar lines that keep veering off into chaos -- skittering and screeching like so many derailed trains before finally resolving themselves in the same insistent one-chord blues riff -- the sparse, dissonant music conjures the bleak, miserable experience of junkies riding the New York City subway with raw nerves all in a jumble as they hunger for their next fix as if it were their divine deliverance.

lysanderofsparta

Brilliant track, still fkng rocks! Such an innovative and unique band. Truly iconic!

Deedee-eesg

I love how Andy Warhol couldn't produce an apple from a paper bag yet gets all the credit for "producing" this album. Still love it though!

mattiemclean