Fugsley - The Lost Member of the Velvet Underground

by Tyler Carey

You don't.

Recently, I was fortunate enough to meet with one of the missing puzzle pieces of pop music - Fugsley, the lost member of the original lineup of the Velvet Underground.

Great Hoboes: It's a pleasure to meet with you, Mr...

Fugsley: Fugsley.

GH: Oh, I see. Fugsley is your last name. (the sound of scribbling on paper)

F: Oh, no. It's just my name.

GH: Oh. (more scribbling) I see. Well, Fugsley, you claim that you are the lost member of The Velvet Underground.

F: Yes, I am. I formed the band with Lou Reed and John Cale. I was a sketch-artist then, and I'd been spending a lot of time hanging out at the Factory. Y'know, just sketching pictures of the famous people who dropped by - like Salvador Dali, Fidel Castro...

GH: Fidel Castro dropped by the Factory?!?

F: I think so. Maybe not. I don't remember a lot of things clearly from then.

GH: But you remember forming The Velvet Underground with Lou Reed and John Cale.

F: Oh, yes! They were sitting on the couch at the Factory talking one day. They'd been up in Harlem playing guitar and viola on the street corner, and they were bitching about how little money they'd made. Andy said that if they wanted money, they should form a band. Y'know, like the Beatles.

GH: What'd you bring to the table?

F: Well, they got to talking about how no one would pay for an album of just an electric guitar and an electric viola, and Andy said, "I see..." which is what he said when he didn't really have an answer for something. I jumped up and said, "Hey! You need percussion!" They just looked at me. I was this squirrelly little sketcher, so like, y'know, what the fuck would I know about music. (pause) Can I say 'fuck'? Is this hobo thing a family magazine?

GH: You can say 'fuck' all you like.

F: Great. So, anyway, Andy was all like, "Oooo! Percussion! Yesss!" Lou asked me if I knew any percussion players, and I said that I did. Me!

GH: You were a drummer?

F: No. I was, and still am, the only electric tambourine player in New York City.

GH: (silence) Wow.

F: Yeah! Far out, huh?

GH: So, how did Lou and John react to you suggesting that you join their band?

F: They weren't too into it at first, but I think Andy helped them change their minds. He really put the band together. They brought in some drummer they knew, and then Andy added Nico.

GH: How did Moe Tucker like your tambourine playing?

F: Oh, she wasn't the drummer yet. They got this old college buddy or something to play drums, but he left when he thought we were too commercial.

GH: An electric viola, an electric tambourine and songs about heroin addicts and dominatrixes were too commercial?

F: Yes. And it's dominatrices, not dominatrixes.

GH: Thanks. That your line of work now?

F: (nervous giggle) Noooo. Anyway, he didn't want to play for money or something, and well, y'know, that would kind of bite for the rest of us.

GH: That's when they go Moe Tucker?

F: Yes.

GH: Okay. So, were you involved in the songwriting at all?

F: Well, I had lots of ideas, but Lou primarily wanted me to sit at the side of the rehearsals and sketch. I only played the tambourine when Andy was around. Lou said that I was the only one who didn't need practice, so I could just hang out until they got their parts right.

GH: What were your ideas like?

F: Well, Lou and John wrote all these downers. Y'know, songs about junkies and closet-freaks and stuff. So, I said, "Hey! Let's write some happy songs!" They all looked at me like I had two heads. Nico used to call me 'unbeaaaaarable'.

GH: What did you think of Nico?

F: She was really pretty. I kept asking her out, but I dunno. I guess I wasn't her type.

GH: Sure. So, this happy song. How did it go?

F: Well, it's not as good without the electric tambourine, but here goes... (Fugsley ran his fingers through his hair, closed his eyes and meditated for a moment.) Haaaaapy. Haaaaapy. I'm so haaaaaaapy when I see you smiiiiile...

GH: Wow.

F: That's what Andy said!

GH: Did they record any of these songs?

F: No, but I did make it onto the initial album. The one with "Andy Warhol" and the banana on the cover.

GH: You were on that album?

F: Yeah, the first bit of feedback on 'Heroin' was actually my electric tambourine.

GH: Whoa. Back up here a second. You mean to say that you inspired Lou Reed to do his amazing work with feedback?!?

F: No, not really. He was already doing that kind of stuff. He was kind of pissed about my feedback. It was accidental. I had actually dropped my tambourine in front of a speaker cabinet and that's how it fed back.

GH: (laughs)

F: It's true!

GH: I don't doubt that! How about 'Black Angel's Death Song'? Is that you playing tambourine?

F: No. That must have been...y'know...someone else.

GH: Huh. So were there any other moments in which you appeared on the album?

F: Yeah, the sound of breaking glass on 'European Son' was me.

GH: Wait, I've heard this story. I heard that a plate fell off a shelf when Moe hit her bass drum, and that they kept it in the mix.

F: I've heard that story, but it was me.

GH: You dropped the plate?

F: No, that was me going out a second story window.

GH: What?

F: Well, it was towards the end of the session, and I must have done something to get on the nerves of one of the engineers, and so he just grabbed me by the collar and pitched me out a window.

GH: Oh, Ballcocks! This interview's over. This is just degenerating into bullshit.

F: No, seriously!

GH: Fine. Explain it. How'd it happen? How'd you not die?

F: Well, I had taken a lot of pills.

GH: Thanks for wasting my time, asshole. (stands to leave. Sounds of papers shuffling.)

F: Wait! I knew this would happen! It always happens. I have proof. (From his backpack, Mr. Fugsley produced an original copy of the first VU album.) See here? Inside the gatefold sleeve?

GH: That fuzzy picture of Lou Reed?

F: Yeah. That even fuzzier picture of a guy next to him? That's me! (Sounds of footsteps. Fugsley's voice fades in the distance as the Hobo walked away.) No, it's me!

Maybe I shouldn't have doubted him. Perhaps I did indeed discover the great Loch Ness Monster of Rock and Roll - a forgotten member of one of the great lost rock bands. If Mr. Fugsley were for real, this discovery would certainly have been on the scale of identifying the Fifth Beatle. Alas, we may never know the veracity of this man's story. I sometimes lay awake at night, staring at that fuzzy black and white photo, trying to convince myself that I discovered a bit of that lost punk Zeitgeist. Mr. Fugsley, wherever you are, feed one back for me, and shake that tambourine.