Connie Converse How Sad, How Lovely LP & 45rpm 7" Vinyl

Nearly 51 years after the singer-songwriter's disappearance comes the first reissue of Connie Converse's How Sad, How Lovely in nearly 10 years in any format. 20 tracks (including a bonus 7" featuring the previously unreleased "House" and the new remix of "Playboy of the Western World" courtesy of Dirick Cummins) that are as poignant and potent as ever and showcase an artist that was operating light years ahead of her time. Production of this long-awaited reissue was overseen by Dan Dzula, co-producer of the original album and founder of The Musick Group, Connie's other label home.

Connie Converse was among the first modern singer-songwriters, a truly unique artist whose unconventional, hypnotically intimate songs were far ahead of their time. Born in Laconia, New Hampshire, in 1924 to strict, religious parents, she excelled academically and briefly attended Mount Holyoke College before moving to New York City in the late 1940s. There, she lived a quiet, bohemian life, and, by 1949, began writing a remarkable body of original songs. Those songs were committed to tape over the next decade, as Converse began recording herself at home on a Crestwood 404 reel-to-reel tape recorder. Starting in 1954, legendary comic artist and animator Gene Deitch also began recording Converse at his Hastings-on-Hudson home, where she was a guest at salons and dinner parties hosted by the Deitch family. Converse's haunting music blended folk, jazz, and art-song influences, with sophisticated, deeply introspective lyrics that explored themes of longing, independence, and self-knowledge, later becoming hallmarks of the 1960s singer-songwriter movement.

Despite her extraordinary talent, Converse struggled to find recognition during her lifetime. Her only known public performance was a brief – and sadly lost – appearance on CBS's The Morning Show with Walter Cronkite in 1954. Feeling the need to reinvent herself (again), Converse left New York for Ann Arbor, MI in January, 1961 (at nearly the exact moment an unknown troubadour named Robert Zimmerman arrived in NYC). Despite being a college dropout, Connie quickly embedded herself in Ann Arbor academic and intellectual circles, ultimately becoming editor of the University of Michigan's Journal for Conflict Resolution. She focused her energies more on civil rights activism than songwriting, but heavy drinking fueled a deep depression and increasing disillusionment with her professional and personal prospects.

In 1974, at the age of 50, Connie Converse packed her belongings into her Volkswagen Beetle, sent a series of farewell letters to friends and family, and disappeared, her ultimate fate unknown to this very day. Her music remained largely forgotten until the early 2000s, when Deitch played one of Converse's reel-to-reel recordings on public radio during an appearance on WNYC's Spinning on Air. Converse's spellbinding song, "One by One," touched the heads and hearts of two listeners who were inspired to track down more of Converse's recordings, which they compiled into the original 2009 release of How Sad, How Lovely.

Since then, Converse has gained posthumous acclaim and is today regarded as a pioneering figure whose work anticipated the confessional, poetic songwriting of artists like Joni Mitchell and Leonard Cohen. Now, with Third Man's expanded How Sad, How Lovely, Connie Converse's legacy is certain to grow as new listeners are able to discover the singular beauty and emotional depth of her lingering, extraordinary songs.

While she may have had some contemporaries in the budding folk revival scene of the late '50s and early '60s, there's something alarmingly unique about these spare tunes. While there are similarities in the storytelling air of these songs to those of Peggy Seeger or Barbara Dane, Converse's lyrics are always playful, spacy, and even somewhat psychedelic long before LSD had even been developed chemically... Connie Converse made songs far too vulnerable and odd to be accepted in her time. Years after her disappearance, the world was getting closer to being ready for these songs, warm and delicate as an intimate secret shared between close friends, while at the same time sounding quietly bold and powerful.

There was something uncommon and vulnerable, something deceptive and futuristic about Connie Converse's songs. They took traditional songwriting sensibilities and transformed them into new forms that, at the time, were impossible to market in any sort of commercial setting…Converse wrote unbearably lonely songs, with protagonists who find their alienation to be almost sweet… They are stories of dreamers and travelers and men who will break your heart.

How did it happen that at the great cultural crossroads of postwar New York, there was a lone woman writing songs on guitar with a sophistication of lyric and melody unmatched by any other folk songwriter of the time?... The question is whether to see her as a wild precursor to the singer-songwriter movement that began in the early '60s, or as a singular artist, an Emily Dickinson figure, caught out of time, working enclosed and unknown.