Laura Nyro “New York Tendaberry”

It wasn’t Laura Nyro that pushed me over the edge, not at all—more likely this humidity, this summer—in fact I’m threatening to move to an island in the Upper Great Lakes with just my notebooks, books, and a few albums—including 3 or 4 Nyros. As time progresses, I get more longwinded, sleepy, frantic, and life is less fun. The whole idea of writing weekly record “reviews” is s’posed to be… that’s how I enjoy music. I use a random number to pick what to write about—the idea being, no pressure, enjoy it, it’s like an assignment with no consequences, really. I’m not trying to reassess anything nor be the last word. When I started this idea, back around 2006, it was fun—I just jotted some bland and incendiary notions—and posted it. Now, over time, though I’m certain some of my observations are a tad more thorough (and hopefully interesting), on the whole, the enterprise lacks spontaneity and levity. So, rather than give it up—I decided to vow to write short bits—not necessarily reviews, and certainly not bios and Wikipedic overviews. Ideally, just one interesting observation, and move on. I’m shooting for a single paragraph, from here on in. Naturally, there may be times when I go nuts and spew text, for better or worse—but if you (the reader) want a 33/13 series type book—those are out there, and you should buy one and support that project—I do from time to time! Anyway, this one is already an extra paragraph just due to this explanatory nonsense—but that’s not Laura Nyro’s fault!

I love this record, and that’s all I’m gonna say about it! That was easy. Do I have all her records yet? No, but most—sadly too altogether few—but I’m grateful for what exists. This is her third LP, and it occurred to me that there are these three, this one and the one just before and after, that… I have no idea what the titles mean. Later, there’s one called “Smile”—I can get my head around that. Her first one will always be my favorite—well, maybe not. I like them all—but this one is the most mysterious I’ve heard—it’s both lush and spare—mostly vocals and piano, with some drums and orchestra, comes and goes. It’s very quiet… but gets wound up when the time comes. I’m not going to go song by song, or side by side—I take it as a whole thing and like it that way. There may (and hopefully shall) be a time when I sit down and decipher the lyrics, and at that time my love for the record my grow richer—I hope so. I don’t know if it was released with an inner sleeve with lyrics, or any other clues—I don’t have one. Just a stark, black and white cover, Laura Nyro on front and back, different expressions—her name and title on front, and on back, a few words, simply: “Where is the night luster? Past my trials.” My sentiments exactly. When I was younger, say, age 9, when this 1969 record came out, it didn’t occur to me to ask what “Tendaberry” means. But these days, I’m asking questions. “Word” (my shitty word-processing) doesn’t like it, says it’s not a word. (It also doesn’t like Nyro.) A movie recently was made with that title—so that’s all the internet will give you, which is annoying… but I’ll see that movie (just for its title). When “New York” is used as a modifier, it’s most often: city, bagels, yankees, times—but for me, it’s this. Given the chance, it’s the first thing I’d ask Laura Nyro (not really, but maybe). So… I’d agree to go to Heaven if it was guaranteed I could talk to her, there—and then eat pancakes.

8.22.25