Laura Nyro
More Than A New Discovery
(Rev-Ola)
Five years had already passed since Laura Nyro's death, in 1997
of ovarian cancer, when Sony (the label owning the rights to the catalogue of Columbia
Records) announced a re-release program of those albums recorded by the
singer-songwriter. A gradual program that - though I'm perfectly aware
of the precious impact in all matters regarding promotion of such things
as unreleased tracks, new liner notes, and new (also better?) digital mastering
- I regarded as being redundant. The reason why being that, with the only
exception of Nested (originally released in 1978, it had proved to be the
last in a series of albums that made Nyro's name held in high esteem by
many), which had been re-released for just a short while in Japan only,
all that could reasonably be considered as being indispensable in her catalogue
was already available in digital format. Sure, sometimes things can get
better, but I have to confess that I was quite skeptical about the whole
thing.
Provided
it's rarity we are talking about, the sure bet for the first title to be
re-released was obviously on Nested (an album, by the way, that had already
sounded quite muffled in its vinyl days). Alternatively, when assuming
the chronological perspective, the first step had to be her first album,
More Than A New Discovery, which, originally released on the Verve label
in 1967, had been re-released on Columbia in 1973 with a new flowery cover
under the title The First Songs.
But
no: The first batch featured Eli And The Thirteenth Confession (1968),
New York Tendaberry (1969) and Gonna Take A Miracle (1971). The choice
of titles was in a way quite logical: the first of the three albums (her
first on Columbia) had shown Nyro expressing herself with more freedom,
free from those constrains that - when talking about orchestration, arrangements,
and the matter of
"rubato" when it came to tempi - had so constrained her on her
first album; the second title had shown Nyro trying to widen the confines
of the song form - and succeeding, with excellent results; while on the third
album she had revised a good part of a repertory that so great an influence
had on her at the time of her apprenticeship.
Which
titles were left out? Well, obviously More Than A New Discovery and, strangely,
also the very good Christmas And The Beads Of Sweat (1970). No trace of
Smile (1976), her first album after a five years' absence, either; nor
of Season Of Lights (1977, a double in Japan, but only a single in the
rest of the world), which had documented the tour that had followed. Not
to mention Nested. After two years Sony released a CD featuring a very
nice live concert, for the better part unreleased: Spread
Your Wings And Fly - Live At The Fillmore East May 30, 1971.
So it really looks like the story - at least, the one concerning
those editions curated by Sony - stops here. It's quite easy to guess the
"niche" destiny that awaited those three titles released six years
ago. It's also quite easy to guess the "niche" destiny, or worse,
awaiting those titles still to be re-released in today's climate. It looks
like licenses will be granted, on a "case by case" basis; a fact
which should make it easier for many to get those albums that are so impossible-to-get
(but are they really so hard to get? having a look on the Web, I found most,
if not all, of them being quite easy to find, on the cheap) will eliminate
any chance of the original albums, as re-releases, ever forming a coherent
whole.
What about now? Well, Nested appears to have just been released,
by a (ad hoc?) US label, but at the moment of this writing it's been impossible
for me to get it - yet? While the first album was recently re-released
by a UK label, Rev-Ola. It's a tale that, for clarity's sake, has to be
told in two parts. (I wonder what will happen on the day when things like
CDs, master tapes, and the very concept of "original", will disappear.
Will we ever find a different way to pass our time?)
More
Than A New Discovery is the kind of first album that with an expression
that today sounds - maybe - a touch rhetorical we could call "one
destined to make history". Here the important factor is really "context"
(while it's entirely possible that the listener will find the album pleasant-sounding,
interesting, inspirational, moving, and so on just by listening to it): after
all, more than forty years have passed, and so it's to be expected that timbres,
arrangements, and items of style will get different values for different
listeners. In order to quickly show an important difference, I'll mention
an album by Barbra Streisand, produced by Richard Perry: Stoney End, where
the singer performs, among other things, Hands Off The Man (Flim Flam Man)
and Stoney End, off More Than A New Discovery (also Time And Love, off Eli
And The Thirteenth Confession, besides Just A Little Lovin' and No Easy Way
Down off the highly celebrated Dusty Springfield album, Dusty In Memphis);
this album was originally released in 1971, but I believe that in a
"blind" listening session it will be Streisand's album that'll
sound as being "older", first of all due to a more rigid, less
"funky", vocal approach. This, even though More Than A New Discovery
lacks the other element that's so important for Nyro's true sound: her piano,
which on that album she was forbidden to play (which is the reason why her
albums on Columbia proudly stated: Laura Nyro - Accompanying Herself On The
Piano).
Here
we have to make things clear: it's one thing to argue - due to ignorance,
or professional whoring - of a couple of notes which were robbed off somebody
else, and are now played badly, that "they sound quite like...";
totally another to listen to the debut album by a nineteen-year-old by
somebody who's for the most part self-taught and who's influenced by Doo-Wop,
Motown, Bacharach & David and Goffin & King (and jazz, classical,
and Broadway musicals) who succeeds not only in formulating a synthesis,
but a kind of synthesis that is so personal that it becomes a "style" by
itself.
It
goes without saying that Nyro's performances of her own songs were, comparatively
speaking, difficult to appreciate. So that her songs became popular when
they were performed in more plain terms by artists such as The Fifth Dimension,
Blood, Sweat & Tears, and the above-mentioned Barbra Streisand; while
the more "underground" portion of the audience appreciated cover
versions such as Save The Country as performed by Julie Driscoll, Brian
Auger And The Trinity on their celebrated double Streetnoise. But it's
through her original interpretations that we appreciate con gusto the brio
in Wedding Bell Blues and California Shoeshine Boys, the duets in Blowing
Away, the mood in Billy's Blues and He's A Runner, and those pearls (so
different, yet both so moving) titled Buy And Sell and And When I Die.
All
through the Seventies, Laura Nyro's original albums on Columbia were not
so hard to find. The same cannot be said for her debut album on Verve.
The only edition of that album that was easily available being the Columbia
re-release from 1973 (with a different cover) titled The First Songs. It
had a strange sound, with a more pronounced bass than those albums she
recorded later. At the time I thought that it all was due to the work of
Remix Engineer listed on the LP cover, Jack Ashkinazy.
Things
got a bit more complicated when I got the news that her album on Verve
had not been released just once, but twice: the second version featuring
the same running order as the one I knew from the re-release from '73 (but,
obviously, with a different cover and a different mix), and with the song
lyrics printed on the back of the album (just like the aforementioned Columbia
re-release) in lieu of the liner notes (which I knew existed, though I
had never seen them) of the first edition. Most of the sources I've consulted
date both Verve editions in 1967, with just a minority placing the release
date of the second edition in 1969.
At
this point we have a problem: which edition is the basis of the new Rev-Ola
CD? The issue was debated on the Web (I'll spare readers the many minutiae),
and it's a debate that I found difficult to comprehend the minute I listened
to my copy of the CD. The song order is that of the first Verve edition,
while the backcover doesn't resemble neither the first edition (there are
no liner notes), nor the second (there are no lyrics) - none of them, obviously,
had the Rev-Ola liner notes from 2008.
Quite
incredible, the new liner notes claim the album's original year of release
to have been 1966 (well...), with the recording sessions having taken place
in... 1965! (Wow! Really?)
OK,
but how does it sound? Well, it sounds fine to me, very fine, with just
a caveat: I've never listened to the original version(s) on Verve from
the Sixties. I could only play the new CD edition side-by-side with the
remixed vinyl version from 1973 and with the Columbia CD (the only version
that I know of), that's essentially the same of the one on vinyl, albeit
with a new, digital mastering.
When
trying to understand the logic underlying the remix from 1973, my hypothesis
was the remix engineer's intention to be that of highlighting the solo
voice and the rhythm section (electric bass, drums, percussion), while
at the same time placing more in the background all those elements such
as harmonica, oboe, cornet, strings, background vocals that, while likeable
as "colour"
when used sparingly, could make the whole sound excessively dated to an average
listener in 1973. But, more than through a remix of the multitrack, to me
it looks like the final result was obtained through a selective use of equalization;
hence, those painful, distorted peaks every time the Nyro's vocals overload
the microphone; those peaks that, quite easy to listen to on the vinyl version,
became quite annoying in the CD edition of the album (I'd like to dedicate
this discovery to all those who - at the time when the CD was fast becoming
the industry's standard, supplanting the vinyl LP - argued that an extended
frequency response in the higher frequencies would result in our discovering
new nuances in old recordings - not that they were technically wrong...).
Nyro's
vocals are now placed more "inside" the instrumental whole. To
me this new version sounds more in line with the standards of the time.
Those instruments who play the role of "auxiliary soloists" are
now more easily audible, but never overpowering (due to monetary reasons,
the size of the "orchestra" on the original sessions was not
too large). When compared to that of the previous versions, the sound level
is quite high, but with no increased distortion. Whether the new sound
will induce fatigue in the long run I can't say. Type and length of reverb
sound quite "modern", especially the tails. And it's obvious
to me that some kind of no-noise program was used to minimize tape hiss
and the vanishing of oxide, but this didn't occur in a way that's more
than what's already the norm when it comes to re-releases of "similar" albums.
such as those by a Dusty Springfield or a Scott Walker. Anyway, listening
to the "s" at the end of Billy's Blues, or the "d" at
the end of Buy And Sell, is quite a thrill.
Beppe Colli
© Beppe Colli 2008
CloudsandClocks.net | Apr. 22, 2008
