Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan

Most of our stories about cult musicians who make an album or two and then seem to vanish are framed by grief, despair, and frayed ambition. Not so with Margo Guryan, an ardent jazz anomaly who disdained pop music until hearing “God Only Knows” in 1966, opening a window onto the wonders that form could contain. Only two years later, she released her own set of little pop symphonies, Take a Picture, to great praise and expectation. But, having already divorced the hard-gigging valve trombonist Bob Brookmeyer, she declined to tour or even talk about it all that much, content even if her reticence meant Take a Picture was soon consigned to discount racks and cutout bins. She wrote and recorded for years to come, even collaborating with Neil Diamond’s band, but mostly she seemed satisfied by her relatively private life.

As befits music so stunning and subtle, Guryan, who died in 2021, has enjoyed several renaissances during the last six decades. And now, it’s happening again: Soon after her near-whispered and lovelorn hymn “Why Do I Cry” made her a TikTok star in 2021, the same year she passed, Numero Group launched a reissue campaign, resulting in the acclaimed 2024 set, Words and Music. And now, a dozen artists—none of whom were born when Take a Picture was made, most of whom weren’t even born for a crucial early reissue by Franklin Castle—have reinterpreted and reimagined that entire album (plus one bonus track) for Like Someone I Know: A Celebration of Margo Guryan. Empress Of, Margo Price, Clairo, June McDoom: They all affirm Guryan’s sharpness as a songwriter and the brilliance of an album that has far outstripped whatever promotional cycle Guryan rejected so long ago.

Guryan was born to a sprawling family in Far Rockaway, when the place was still mostly framed by trees. While a composition student at Boston University, Guryan stumbled into a gig playing piano between Miles Davis Quintet sets, signed a songwriting deal with Atlantic Records, and botched a session with Nesuhi Ertegun. But she wasn’t looking to be a singing star. In 1959, she headed to the Lenox School of Jazz in the Berkshires to write for Ornette Coleman and Don Cherry, earn the attention of instructor Max Roach, and find a longtime mentor and friend in Gunther Schuller. She became an accomplished lyricist, writing not only for Coleman and Nancy Harrow but also for Harry Belafonte and Gary MacFarland.

But it was that subsequent encounter with the Beach Boys that opened the trap door for Guryan to Take a Picture and scores of other super songs, many of which appear on Words and Music. Take a Picture is a sophisticated survey of mid-20s romance and indecision, from the flirty romp of “Sunday Morning” and falling-for-you affirmation “Can You Tell” to the desperate helplessness of “What Can I Give You.” Her perpetually soft voice, audacious songcraft, and complete candor: Guryan, in 1968 and beyond, was making daring music, no matter how gently those sounds seemed to move.

With a portion of proceeds being donated to providing and advocating for affordable reproductive health services, Like Someone I Know reinforces the strength of Guryan’s songs by allowing a dozen different artists to take them for trips of their own. The core always remains, unwavering. McDoom stretches static and harmony beneath “Thoughts,” as if they’re spinning on a dub plate beneath her arcing vocals. Rahill lets “Sun” unfurl over harmonium drone and entrancing percussive ticks, digging into Guryan’s interest in the surreal. Frankie Cosmos and Good Morning take a country shuffle through “Take a Picture,” entwined vocals falling over the rhythmic skips with perfect romantic relish. Over the last few decades, it has become increasingly clear just how good Guryan was, how sturdy her songs have been amid varying tides of taste. Like Someone I Know offers absolute validation, a testament to the enduring relevance and brilliance of Guryan's work.