by Bambi Weavil
If I were to introduce you to someone who I think you should know more about – it’s a big deal, you’ll thank me later, and I don’t want to withhold someone as good as she is from you. Meet this talented singer/songwriter who was once a poetry teacher in the prison system, an office jockey, a P.A. on commercial sets, a grad student twice, a Kindergarten teacher, the host of an metal radio show, a server at a fine dining restaurant, a cook at a vegetarian co-op, a teacher of a course on the history of sexuality, a bartender, and a real estate stylist, dressing million-dollar Manhattan apartments. Intrigued yet? Meet the sexy and sassy Laura Minor (MySpace, Facebook). She’s not someone you’re going to forget once you hear (and buy) Let Evening Come.
Her music is experimental country/folk/blues/rock and hip hop, her lyrics are poetic and dark, yet seductive and promisingly messy, but ever so gorgeous and gutsy to listen to. Easy-going and charming “Henry and Alicia” kick off the album and don’t shy away from Minor’s tender vocals, framing young love and capturing the summer in Kodak moments (“Ride away on your bicycles to the places you dream of”). My favorite declaration of intent of rebel rousing is “Trouble,” a neo-country/rock affirmation to embrace and love. “Peggy Sergeant,” is a experimental ballad to remind you to “not forget the songs that make you dance.” “Two Days In Georgia,” a song of departure of what my thoughts sound like when I’ve had one too many at the bar and when I know I’m desperate to leave (“I’m sitting here listening to the birds scream / and I wish I had wings“).
Minor has such a eye for capturing moments and bringing the listener there with her, to vulnerable moments or to the front row of the heat of the moment. One of the best songs that has ever captured pain in it’s rawest form where you can feel every emotional wound close to your own heart (“Make the hurt of living go away”) is “The Beast” (video). The instrumentals peppered throughout the album bring such balance and help you capture your breath between each song after you’ve been utterly mindblown, and serves as a way to find the balance between being rocked and floating (especially “Lonely Girls”). “She Got High” reminds me what a Floridian-influenced Shannon Wright would sound like, while “The Castles At My Feet” remembers a time in Santa Cruz (“remember driving through the city / holding hands between the seats”) and the differences that happen when two paths diverge. A nice surprise was a flavor of jazz swirled in folk/pop in the gorgeous yet ripping “Late Night, Judy Garland.”
The title track, “Let Evening Come,” is ambitious as Minor herself (“I want to hear what’s going on with you / and all the fun summer things that people do / but I just can’t wait until it’s through / to unpack my bags, I want to / wear my coat and my hat, I want to / free all that’s sad in the changing leaves”), a conversation and connection between two, letting go, departing and catching up. “I Still Miss Someone” would make Patsy Cline and Stevie Nicks proud, and the album closes with a rocking and flirty “Oh Tonight,” a song of desire and determination. With the lyrics, “How the winter stars are sewn in my smile,” from the closing track could easily sum up how I feel about Let Evening Come. You want a satisfying album from a damn good artist? Let Evening Come is my pick for you.