I've become aware in recent years that "New York Tendaberry" is considered by many observers gifted with the hindsight of four decades to be Laura Nyro's greatest achievement. Utter poppycock!

This record all but defines what happened to '60s pop musicians who were given enough rope by the recording industry at a time when the industry was desperately flailing about in its attempts to understand the shifting market driven by a radically changing young America. Nyro was given that rope by Columbia and delivered a messy, direction-less LP whose incoherence forced the discerning listener to rethink the "genius" label that she had deservedly acquired for her superb and unprecedented songwriting on "More Than a New Discovery" and "Eli and the Thirteenth Confession."

To make my opinion clearer, to this day I still consider "Eli" to be the single greatest LP ever recorded by a woman pop singer. Sadly, Nyro never came close to that level of quality in her subsequent releases. By the time of "Christmas and the Beads of Sweat" -- an initially enticing effort that did not wear well over time -- it was clear that she (by age 20!) had already said everything she had to say.

"Tendaberry" is often draped in sentiments like "Nyro's gift to New York City," et. al. But if you listen closely, this is romantic fiction -- the songs have very little to do with New York specifically, and that interpretation is a lame cover story for Nyro's shockingly undisciplined approach to the production of this record. Producer Ray Halee made a colossal mistake by allowing "Tendaberry"'s basic tracks to be driven entirely by Nyro's piano playing, sometimes with disastrous results when arranger Jimmie Haskell was summoned later in a desperate attempt to "sweeten" the final product. Contrast this to the tight, magnificent rhythm tracks in the Charlie Calello-produced "Eli," where Nyro was forced to make her innovative ideas about tempo and drama intelligible to session players. The arrangements on "Eli" are also far superior, and Nyro delivered vocally so much more effectively than on "Tendaberry," notable for the first really ugly recorded sounds to come out of her throat. Nyro had the potential to be a great singer, but never came close to realizing it. She simply didn't have the discipline or the self-critical faculties.

But what's really wrong with "Tendaberry" is not her singing. It's the songs. They're just not very good. ... There are more musical ideas in the verse of "He's a Runner" from her first LP than there are on all of "Tendaberry." ... It's a shame; she really had a lot of talent.

The 1969 classic tome from La Nyro not only holds up well, but acts like a clarion beacon to wake up and small the Hailburton in a way that still cajoles, entices and alarms us.
Clear as a bell as far as I am concerned.
We miss you Miss Laura.

have always loved her music and she
brings something special and unique
to her interpertation of her songs

When an artist is said to bare all, standing naked and vulnerable, we know it wasn't an easy task getting there. Take Joni Mitchel's Blue or Frank Sinatra's Only For The Lonely or Billie Hiliday's Songs for Disanque Lovers. There's no denying these artist have stripped away layers of emotion to get to their inner beings, even bare their souls in their quest to express their hurt. Such is clearly the case with Laura Nyro's New York Tenderberry.

Just flatout, jawdropping, cokedup, telescopic percipience. And the sound - jazzed, organic, desperate and dynamic. I believe this one is Nyro's best moment (song for song plus arranging and vocal performances).

The place for this underestimated masterpiece, in criticspeak: Pet Sounds with a dash of Rehearsals For Retirement (Ochs) and Whales & Nightingales moving towards For The Roses (before Joni got that far).

"Gibsom Street," "Captain Saint Lucifer," "Time and Love," "You Don't Love Me When I Cry" and (absolutely) the title track are among Nyro's most compelling compositions. No comp will provide 'em all.

I'm pretty biased towards this one as THE one.

13th Confession has more "hits" (obviously "Stone Soul Picnic") but it's less maniac artistic. Sweat has "Chinese Lamp" (the final peak) but there's a tiredness on the "rockin'" tunes.

THIS session, I believe, has the recondite vibe and the tunes are the loveliest crop.

Chillraising, shocking, dark, joyous - elemental and vast.