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Laura Nyro - New York Tendaberry



Released: September, 1969
Genre: Pop, Jazz-Pop, Soul
Label: Columbia
Producer: Laura Nyro, Roy Halee

For a while I considered Laura Nyro to be simply 'alright'. I thought the first three songs on Eli were what she did best; the more introspective numbers, such as ‘Poverty Train’ bored me with their minimal accompaniment and slow movement. I was, however, interested enough to try the next most popular album in her discography: ‘New York Tendaberry'. I can't imagine, given how it is now one of my favourite albums of all time, how I could have listened to it for so long and been largely unimpressed - thought it too dull and sparse - but it wasn't love at first note. I think I was searching for the optimistic pop exuberance of my then-favourites from Eli, 'Sweet Blindness' and 'Lu'. I was left unaffected by the emotion and soul on those melancholy but beautiful tracks - impatient as I was for something immediate and uplifting. I found it a chore to sit through tracks like 'You Don't Love Me When I Cry' and 'Sweet Lovin' Baby'. I was, however, immediately struck by the soul and energy of the excellent and heartwarming 'Time and Love', and most of the time I must have barely listened to the preceding tracks - paying attention only when it's opening chords kicked in.

For some reason, my realisation of her brilliance came in a very sudden way. I put this down to the fact that I had recently begun listening to music at music higher volumes, wearing headphones. I decided to give Tendaberry a play from beginning to end - to give those neglected tracks another chance to impress me.

The album's frequent contrast between the hushed and intimate, and impassioned, heavy piano chords often irritated me, as it meant I could not keep a consistent volume level, but after hearing the songs in this way, I was immediately gripped by the symbiotic control she had of her voice and her piano. To see the chords written down in minims and crotchets does no justice to the incredible deliberation of her playing. On the epic 'Captain for Dark Mornings', her voice soars, plummets and rises in a gentle, sweet whisper, while her playing slows to a crawl. Such sharp fluctuations in volume speed and dynamics are tricky to replicate and execute, but on her records these nuances sound utterly natural and effortless.

I don’t pretend to know what the lyrics meant to Nyro herself. With lines like “mama open up the room lock/ sip sip/ I'm going to the moon dock” or “people and the landlords shine/down and gay wine /in the doom swept the band away”, one can only presume their exact meaning is strictly personal. The lyrics lay images and emotions down like an artist’s hues, and with a poet’s tact. Even the ostensibly straightforward ‘Time and Love’, which delivers the heartwarming message “nothing cures like time and love”, might be less unambiguous when compared with ‘You Don't Love Me When I Cry’s heartbreaking lyrics, which cast doubt on this message; the exuberant imperative, “don't let the devil fool you/ here comes a dove”, sounds more like futile self-deception. Idealistic love and irresistible temptation is described; “the devil is sweet”, “I'll live and die and rise with my captain”, but as is what remains after. The titular city is also a lyrical theme. The line “sidewalk and pigeon/ you look like a city/ but you feel like a religion to me” gives an idea of her attachment to her hometown, the “gutter in stacks”.

New York Tendaberry is a song cycle if no other album is. I can listen to 'Time and Love' alone, but something about the slowly-built continuation from the lyrically enigmatic 'Gibsom Street' feels completely natural. She can do so much with nothing but her voice and the piano that it's easy to overlook how much the production lends to the music. The tracks are all similar in their economical use of additional instruments. The sudden surges and abrupt exits of the strings on 'Sweet Lovin' Baby' tastefully accentuate the impassioned vocals without competing with them, and 'Captain Saint Lucifer' (my favourite Nyro track of all time) is heightened at its chorus by a full ensemble to similarly gorgeous effect - the illustrative drum hits after "buckles off a poverty drum", followed by the brass stabs punctuating "tell Gabriel" are pure magic. 'New York Tendaberry' was once my least favourite Nyro track, but I now think that it sets the perfect tone for the final track. This is not an album that should end on some big, brassy singalong.

After my realisation, I discovered some wonderful tracks on Eli and the Thirteenth Confession which I had overlooked – ‘The Confession’, ‘Timer’, ‘Eli's Comin’’. I still like those fun, catchy tunes she does, but they are no longer what I love about her music. It's odd; her influence and significance in popular music, once you've heard her, is blindingly obvious - to contemporaries such as Carole King and Joni Mitchell, as well as artists like Steely Dan and Todd Rundgren - yet she's almost forgotten in the Rolling Stone (and ilk) rock/pop canon.

Ah well. Those cunts don't deserve her.


- Liam Porter