Yodelling Before the Bulldozers
nellie mckay makes harlem cool again
Nellie McKay manifests soul and spirit, a character unto herself, a good old creative soul.
So it was only fitting that we meet at a vegan soul food restaurant, Uptown Juice Bar, in the heart of Harlem. And on Valentine’s Day, one could hardly wish for better company than the charismatic, attractive, well-spoken singer-songwriter whose music is so adept at corrupting the American songbook.
On the other hand, spirit can’t just exist—it’s restless and always on the move. McKay, like her music, swings to the pulse of constant change. Her spirit is manifested in her activism, an inextricable part of her music that gives it a vibrant and engaging character. She is attuned to the realities of the world and faces them with a passion all her own (much to the chagrin of some detractors).
“Certainly, you get influenced by everything,” McKay says. Her music exhibits a eclecticism she describes as “schizophrenic,” akin to the musical vocabulary of an avid record collector with a extensive knowledge of pop culture.
“Usually, what you listen to is really intimidating and what you put out is substandard,” McKay self-deprecatingly says, but critics and fans alike have raved about McKay since she released her first record, Get Away From Me, in 2004. The album, produced by Geoff Emerick (the man who engineered some of The Beatles’ best recordings), was the first time that a woman had put out a double record as her first release
The price of this achievement was a fight with her record company that culminated in what could be characterized as a typical McKay response—one which couples seriousness with her wry sense of humor. “We made a video of him [Emerick] tied up with FedEx tape and covered in ketchup, with a gun to his head, holding him hostage to get the full album.” The record company conceded, though this was the beginning of a fractious relationship between McKay and Columbia Records.
That relationship ended after the release of McKay’s second album in 2006, Pretty Little Head. She went on to release her latest record, 2007’s Obligatory Villages, on her own label with distribution by Vanguard Records. Obligatory Villages is an important artistic step for McKay, who brought in collaborators like jazz greats Phil Woods, Dave Liebman, and Bebop/Schoolhouse Rock impresario Bob Dorough, who McKay describes as a “sly, Southern gentleman.”
The album is a reflection of her personality and also an object of artistic integrity. Obligatory Villagers is a record rooted in the future with one eye to the past. Her jazz collaborators make her “bad music swing,” she says. The music reflects her predilection for Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Bob Dylan and The Band’s The Basement Tapes, and the classic aesthetics of actresses Rita Hayworth, Joan Crawford, and Pearl Bailey—all of whom she invokes during our interview.
Minnie Pearl, another McKay favorite, was a comedian on the classic country music program Grand Ole Opry and an apt pre-figurement of McKay’s stage show, with its lively vaudevillian atmosphere replete with audience interaction, jokes, and the destruction of the fourth wall.
“Comedy is so vulnerable—at least you have a song to hide behind in music,” McKay says, which may explain her transition to music after a stint as a stand-up comedian around 2002. She began playing with members of the anti-folk scene in the East Village, opening for such acts as The Trachtenburg Family Slideshow Players. That unique incubating environment, along with her background in comedy and a more recent award-winning stint acting as Polly Peachum in Bertolt Brecht and Kurt Weill’s The Threepenny Opera have shaped her stage show and presence a great deal—she is a remarkably accessible enigma on stage.
Pervading the majority of McKay’s onstage comedy and lyrics is the sentiment that “politics is a reflection of the person, and it’s both bigger and easier than the personal.” It is here that her peculiar spirit dominates. McKay is an advocate of quite a few causes. “Animal rights have the farthest to go, but they all influence one another. They’re all trying to eliminate suffering and keep the good things in life and get rid of the bad.”
As a resident of Harlem, McKay’s ethos of political and social consciousness has created an almost frantic involvement in many of the public affairs of Columbia University. An adamant opponent of the Manhattanville expansion, McKay questions the “very need to expand as an ethos,” imploring people to visit stopcolumbia.org. She criticizes Columbia’s closed lines of communication with the community, saying, “It’s ridiculous how they say they’re open to dialogue, but they stonewall every opportunity.”
“Becoming a vegetarian is one of the best ways to stop global warming,” she says, citing one reason why she is an animal-rights advocate. She is strongly opposed to Columbia’s animal testing, dedicating a song, “Columbia Is Bleeding,” to the issue. At concerts and in interviews, she urges people to lend their support to the cause by visiting columbiacruelty.com. However, she claims that ultimately it is up to the faculty and students to lead the way in advancing such issues.
“There’re people who hold education as an end in itself and they always say, ‘Education is what we need, we need more education.’ But in a lot of instances, education just teaches people to be better villains,” McKay said. She eagerly took to the front lines supporting the hunger strikers last semester, deeming their actions “a very brave thing to do,” and applauding what she considers their ultimate success in the protest.
“I do think its very important not just for the alumni ... but for the faculty to get involved,” she says of Columbia campus issues. I think it’s shameful that so many haven’t taken a position on it, much less the right position. ... And, of course the students. If you’re involved with an institution that’s doing something horrendous, however unwittingly, once aware, you should take action to stop it.”
In the face of criticism for her politics, McKay says, “There is a place for solutions and there is a reason for hope. Just working with some of the people up here in Harlem, they make you so hopeful because they’re so committed and smart.”
Through this spirit and character, her passion is overwhelmingly political and personal, as she performs, a woman warrior hell-bent on fighting for her cause, often with her music. As songs and poetry and tales of love flow during our interview, heating up the Valentine’s Day celebration at Uptown Juice Bar, it becomes clear that McKay’s character translated from the stage, to the table, to the political podium.