On the latest episode of Perfect Songs Forever, Rudy Fischmann and I talk about Laura Nyro song “Wedding Bell Blues.” Rudy spent years hearing it as this bright, upbeat, happy song.. "Wedding Bell Bliss." which is confusing yet understandable. It sounds joyful. But underneath that incredible performance is something much sadder: longing, frustration, and loving someone who still hasn’t chosen you in quite the way you want them to.
That contradiction is part of what makes Laura Nyro so extraordinary. For me, Laura Nyro’s “Wedding Bell Blues” somehow leads all the way back to one of the strangest and most magical nights I ever had on tour.
I first discovered Laura when I was young and became obsessed with D. A. Pennebaker’s Monterey Pop film. Her performance fascinated me. She came out at night, surrounded by darkness, and seemed so sweet, strange, vulnerable, and mysterious. Her music didn’t sound like anybody else’s.
I didn’t truly dive into her records until my 30s, when I started finding them in record stores for under ten bucks. One by one, I hunted them down.
Streaming has made it wonderfully easy to discover an artist’s entire catalog in an afternoon, but there was something special about finding those records individually. You’d bring one home and that was the record you had. So you listened. And listened again. And slowly Laura Nyro became one of my favorite songwriters of all time.
But my connection to Monterey Pop goes even deeper.
I genuinely think MONTEREY POP FESTIVAL 1967 had the greatest music-festival lineup ever assembled. Take away the few legends that didn't play... The Beatles, Bob Dylan, The Rolling Stones (but Brian Jones was there) The Velvet Underground (Nico was there too), The Kinks and the The Beach Boys (who were supposed to play), and it feels like nearly everyone else you could possibly want from the 1960s was there on the bill: Jimi Hendrix, The Who, Janis Joplin, Otis Redding, Simon & Garfunkel, the Byrds , The Mamas & The Papas, Ravi Shankar Grateful Dead and so many more...
Including Laura Nyro.
In June 2011, my old band was touring through California in a rigorous schedule of our 284 shows that year.. this was a hellish 2 days of work.... on
June 17 Santa Cruz, CA : Streetlight Records (In-Store: 4pm)
June 17 Monterey, CA : Jose’s Underground Lounge (evening show)
June 18 San Luis Obispo, CA : Boo Boo Records (In-Store: 2pm)
June 18 Los Angeles, CA : Dark Horse Saloon
it was cool we ended up in Monterey around the anniversary of the Monterey Pop Festival which took place June 16-18th in 1967.
Touring is a funny thing. Something you dreamed about your entire life can occasionally become monotonous when you're doing it every single day. Drive. Load in. Play. Load out. Drive. Eventually somebody has to do something stupid to remind everyone:.... Holy shit. We're in a band. We're traveling around the country with our best friends. This is incredible.
That night, that person was Devin.
We stopped for Mexican food in Monterey, and I remember our morale was a little low. Suddenly a mariachi band appeared at our table, a shot of tequila was placed in front of me, and everyone started singing “Happy Birthday.”
Problem is... My birthday is in August. I looked over at Devin who was laughing... He had told the restaurant it was my birthday.
The mariachi band asked what song I wanted, so naturally I said “La Bamba.”
They played it. I took the shot. Everybody was laughing. We ate chips.. And suddenly the entire mood of the tour changed.
We decided it was my birthday for the rest of the night.
People at the show bought us drinks. We made new friends.. Everybody celebrated. We played a great show. We were laughing again. For a few hours, touring felt like the greatest thing anyone could possibly get to do.
There was only one problem. We didn't have anywhere to sleep.
And after enough celebratory “birthday” drinks, Dave, Devin and I came up with an extremely intelligent plan:... We were going to break into the Monterey County Fairgrounds and find the Monterey Pop stage.
Joe, demonstrating that every band needs at least one functioning adult at all times, declined our quest..
So we parked closed to the Fairgrounds... and the three of us found this enormous probably 10 foot high chain-link fence, climbed over it, and made our way inside.
And then... There it was. Oh my God... The stage. It looked almost exactly like it did in the movie. Except we were in the dark!
Suddenly I was standing in this place I'd watched countless times on a screen. The place where Hendrix set his guitar on fire. Where The Who destroyed their instruments. Where America discovered Janis Joplin and where Otis Redding absolutely torched the audience with his performance. Where Simon & Garfunkel, The Byrds, The Mamas & the Papas, the Grateful Dead... and Laura Nyro had all stood.
I felt fucking electricity moving through my body.. I was so excited to be standing there.
So much of the way our band performed had been stolen directly from watching Monterey Pop.. the chaos of Hendrix and The Who, rolling around, swinging our arms, throwing ourselves into performances. And now we were standing on that stage.
For a music obsessive, it felt like I was in a dream.. on cloud nine.... two sheets to the wind.
We took pictures, wandered around in disbelief, eventually climbed back out and returned to the van to attempt to sleep in our excitement.
The funniest part came the next morning.
We woke up and walked back over to the fairgrounds...
and the doors were wide open. There was some event happening. We could have just waited and walked right in the next day. So even the adult... law abiding Joe finally got to see the stage too.
And seeing everything again in the California Pacific Sunrise was almost as magical as it was in the pitch dark. It still looked like the film I'd fallen in love with as a kid. For a moment, 1967 and 2011 didn't feel very far apart.
Whenever I hear Laura Nyro, some part of me still sees that mysterious young woman performing in the darkness at Monterey. And sometimes I think about three drunk musicians climbing a fence 44 years later just because we desperately wanted to stand where our heroes once stood.
On the latest episode of Perfect Songs Forever, Rudy and I dive into Laura Nyro’s beautiful, deceptively heartbreaking “Wedding Bell Blues.”
Listen to the episode here - https://www.patreon.com/.../273a-soldiers-of-167406920...
and a big thanks to Dave Gebroe of Discograffiti for making the greatest podcast for music obsessives ever.
