AAA Vinyl

There was a period in '60s record history when you could buy "by the label" and pretty much be assured of a great listen. It was true of Elektra and later, after it got off its "high horse," Columbia, which for a while wouldn't touch rock.

So, when this Laura Nyro album appeared on the shelves, many dutifully bought what we thought, judging by the cover art, was a debut album by a sensitive folk singer/songwriter.

The hipper among us knew this was Nyro's second album; her first, produced by Milt Okun, came and went on Verve/Forecast (FTS-3020). That album went virtually unnoticed despite containing "And When I Die", "Stoney End", and "Wedding Bell Blues"—songs everyone reading this probably knows well thanks to covers by others (Columbia reissued the album in 1973). In fact, while still a teen, she sold Peter, Paul and Mary "And When I Die" for $5000. They covered it before BS&T.

While those who knew they were buying Nyro's second album also knew what they were musically getting, the rest of us were in for a shock and/or a let down. While the cover art and album title left a sensitive folk singer/songwriter impression, what we got was an odd amalgam of funk/soul/jazz married to almost Broadway-like slickness. The opener "Luckie" is a jarring jaunt featuring horns and strings. It was more mommy and daddy's music than "ours". Whatever this was, it wasn't a folk singing confessional.

The production was classy for sure, but a more adult, slick hand was in on it than we were expecting, especially based on the cover art, which included a scented fold over paper insert that to this day retains its perfume. At the time David Geffen was guiding her career. When he started Asylum he tried to get her to sign, but she stayed with Columbia, which for Geffen was a major disappointment he memorably talked about on his PBS "American Masters" television profile.

Analog Spark's reissue gives you the (non-scented) fold over and on "authentic" paper that would impress even the sticklers at The Electric Recording Company. And this reissue is, for better or worse, sonically authentic as well, compared to my original Columbia 1A pressing, which means the superbly-recorded and mixed Columbia sound is lean on bottom and bright on top. If anything the reissue is even a bit brighter than the original (especially side one), which means if you turn it up, it can get strident. This is a Ryan K. Smith sonic signature that I think needs a bit of tucking in.

Musically, this record has aged well, as have Nyro's soulful, sensitive performances. She was but twenty one when this record was released, but both her songwriting and singing sound like an older, more mature artist at work, shifting mid-song time signatures, keys and especially moods.

Nyro (real last name Nigro), was born in the Bronx of Russian and Polish Jewish ancestry on her mother's side and Italian on her father's side. Her father was a piano tuner and a trumpeter. In that context the music she produces here makes more sense: it's jazzy, Tin Pan Alley theatrical and at the same time, deep and soulful.

Nyro died from ovarian cancer in 1997 at age 49 the same age the disease took her mother in 1975. Time only burnishes her art making this a well-worthwhile, carefully produced reissue cut from the original tape and well-packaged too.

The same goes for Analog Sparks' reissue of her follow up album New York Tendaberry (AS0004). Both were pressed at RTI with "Tip-on" Stoughton Press jackets.