Value in Abundance

Good, old jazz records are not hard to come by. They may not be as abundant as, say, worn out '80s pop records, but they certainly aren't rare. And like most things that are abundant (consider water and worn paperbacks of Shakespeare plays), they don't cost a lot.

That very abundance -- and the low prices -- can make it easy to miss their true value. And that's a big part of my motivation for starting this blog.

My vinyl shopping sprees have become too frequent and abundant -- much more rare, and less abundant, than similar sprees some people I know, but still too much to properly digest each LP. Because I buy so many and so often, I try to get through all the records -- listening once, often with divided attention, before moving on to the next one -- instead of listening closely to each one, perhaps repeatedly, seeking its unique musical and sonic value.

This isn't some ethical point I'm making. It is, rather, about extracting as much pleasure as possible from each record, experiencing them more deeply and, consequently, learning more about jazz and the experience of, well, experiencing that hunk of music. I'm doing this for my benefit, not for yours. This blog gives me an excuse to listen to each record closely and carefully -- as many times as I wish -- and write about the experience. I suppose what I'm aiming for is a kind of jazz criticism, focused on home listening to records (a different experience than live jazz in a club). This is all very personal -- it's about how I respond, how these records make me feel, and why. I'm not passing judgment; I'm just pointing out what I respond to most, and why.

If something I write about interests you, I hope you'll run out to your nearest used record store in search of a copy, if you don't already own it. Put it on your list and search for it, through your local vinyl sources, eBay, or whatever. Buy the CD if you must; it will provide a similar, but not identical, experience.   

One key point for me is that you should keep in mind:  I value sound about as much as I value music. I'm often amazed at how some of my friends -- some quite sophisticated musically (one is even a college music professor) dismiss good sound, as if music were something that exists apart from sound. Perhaps it does, for a music professor. But for me the best experiences are provided by recordings that combine musical inspiration with really interesting sonics. What that means (to me) should become apparent once I get into the work (or play) of reviewing LPs.

Jazz on Impulse

In response to a recent post in which I mentioned the great experience I've had with jazz LPs on the Riverside label, Doc Notathing commented thusly:

Riverside did some absolutely fabulous Jazz, but what I've been concentrating upon lately is the Impulse catalog. Unbelievably great stuff...one of the most important (in my 'never humble in the least' opinion) being Oliver Nelson's "Blues and the Abstract Truth."

It will surely expose my ignorance when I admit that up to now I haven't really paid much attention to the Impulse label, though I do have a few excellent Impulse LPs (on which, more in a later post).

At a used book store this afternoon (why do I always seem to be shopping for used things?) I came across this book:

 I'm looking forward to reading it over the holiday weekend. I'll have more to say about it next week.

Thursday Is Record Store Day

I am fortunate to have a very nice source for used jazz records in my hometown of Portland, Maine. At the risk of increasing the competition for scarce LPs, I'll tell you about it.

It's called Enterprise Records. There's not much of a Web site, but here's a link. And here's a pic:

If you plan to be near Portland and you want to visit Enterprise Records, be warned: They're only open four days a week, Thursday through Sunday. I believe the hours are 11 a.m. until 6 p.m. Thursday - Friday,  11 a.m. until 5 p.m. on Saturday, and 1 p.m. until 5 p.m. on Sunday.

Enterprise is run by a Chicago native named Bob Wirtz, known by some as "Friendly Bob," which may or may not be intended sardonically. I have always found him friendly enough, but I admit there is a certain aloofness. Enterprise has been in business in Portland for a long time -- longer than the 15 years I've lived in the area -- in four locations, I think. He's now on the western end of inner Congress Street, just east of the State Street intersection.

I've just found this profile of Bob on the Web site of our local community radio station, WMPG:

Bob Wirtz Profile

(By the way, WMPG is an outstanding radio station; it's too bad their Internet feed is so low-rez it's unlistenable, at least for me, so it's hard to recommend to an Internet audience. And by the way, WMPG his holding their annual record sale this Saturday, on the University of Southern Maine campus)

Here's a map showing where Enterprise is located, from Google Maps:


View Larger Map

I don't know Bob well. He seems to travel a lot, purchase record collections from radio stations and so on. He then seems to sell some of what he buys to buyers -- record stores, maybe -- in Boston. But he keeps his own shop well stocked, and he doesn't sell all the good stuff on eBay like a lot of stores do these days.

One of the best things about Enterprise is that the records are fairly priced, ranging from about $4 (I'm talking jazz here; classical is cheaper) up to about $12. Really collectible stuff is more, certainly, though it's not really a collector's shop. There's a lot of stuff here that's listed in the Goldmine Jazz LP guide, but not much of the real high-end stuff.

The other great thing about Enterprise is that you can count on the quality. Bob doesn't put crappy LPs on his shelves, except in the bargain bins, and that's only a tiny fraction of the inventory. Pick something up in the regular stacks and you can be sure it's good shape.

Today is Thursday, their first open day after three days off, so I'll be sure to  stop buy to see if there's anything new and good. I'm sure I'll find something.

A Blue Note Labelography

When buying records, I often prefer a reissue in good condition to an original, simply because the reissues are cheaper, more abundant, and sound just as good (usually). Still, I like to know what I'm buying, and that means learning to recognize labels.

There's advice on how to recognize all the common labels in the Goldmine Guide to Jazz LPs, but it's text only -- no photos -- so it's a bit hard to follow. The best resources have photos, and are online. Here's one I've just discovered -- courtesy of a post by "Sherlock" on the Vinyl Asylum -- for the Blue Note label:

Blue Note Labelography

Pink Floyd's The Wall

Wanna hear something scary? I mean, it's scary only if you're of a certain age. In less than two weeks it will be the 30th anniversary of the release of Pink Floyd's The Wall.

I know it's not jazz, but it's still good music. Sorry -- I promise more jazz posts soon. I would like to point out now, however -- in the light of my previous post about vinyl sales -- that to date The Wall has sold 23 million copies, nearly ten times predicted 2009 vinyl sales. I don't know how that breaks down between vinyl and CD. I'd be interested to know. 

Wanna hear something almost as scary? Spinner.com reports that, according to founding Pink Floyd drummer Nick Mason, college-age kids in the United Kingdom today can't recognize David Gilmore and Comfortably Numb. Here's a sample from that post:

"There's a [quiz show] program here [in Britain] called 'University Challenge,'" [Mason] tells Spinner. "Just by chance they happened to ask these students to name the song and the guitar player. I'm sad to say they failed. They didn't seem to know either Pink Floyd, David Gilmour or 'Comfortably Numb.'"

 Kids today.

I'm surprised I haven't posted more on jazz so far. Apologies. I'll get back to it soon.

Hat tip: New Music Tipsheet

Vinyl Sales Hit New Record

I'm serious, sort of. This year's vinyl sales have already topped 2 million units, according to Nielsen Soundscan, the most on record.

The catch: Soundscan started measuring in 1991, well after the end of the vinyl era.

Want to put that number in perspective?

• In 1933, in the midst of the Great Depression, about 5 million records were sold.
• Throughout the '20s, annual record-sale totals stayed around the 150 million mark.

The number is disappointing in another way: Last year Nielsen Soundscan predicted 2009 vinyl sales of 2.9 million units, and the 2 million mark was reached in early November, so sales will probably fall well short of that expectation. Still, a VERY healthy year-over-year increase is expected; billboard.biz predicts the year-over-year increase in vinyl sales will still be 37%.

The comparison to historic levels isn't fair of course, since it ignores CD sales, which, though dropping fast, last year totaled 362 million.

A Gorgeous Album

What is it about Riverside? Not every title sounds amazing, but many do. I'm obsessed with Duke Ellington right now, I admit. So take that into account.

But Clark Terry's Riverside R-1108 is a superb album. Astonishingly wonderful sound and great music, too, with Clark Terry, Paul Gonsalvez, Johnny Hodges, Billy Strayhorn, and Tyree Glenn -- one of many non-Ellington Ellington albums. Prior to this Clark Terry seemed, to me, nothing special. But I have now learned the error of my ways. This is a superb album.

(I have a very, very nice Nikon camera, and a decent lens or two. Soon, I will take them out and begin reproducing these album covers. But not tonight; I'm having way too much fun listening to "Cottontail" and drinking high-end Wild Turkey.)

What a Bargain

On Ebay:

Neno Gonzalez

I would gladly pay 199 bucks. Right now. Too bad it's just a record. Heck, by now she's probably as old as me. Probably still beautiful though.

Yes, I admit it -- there's something sexual about the whole vinyl thing, even when the people on the covers aren't that beautiful.

I have no connection to the seller -- except that I've bought a few Duke Ellington LPs in the last couple of days, which I haven't paid for yet, since I'm waiting for a funds transfer...

I've moved from gin, to wine, to high-end Wild Turkey. Can you tell?

Oysters for Dinner

I grew up in Florida, on the east coast. For most of my youth I was in a town called Ft. Pierce, but when I was older we moved to the very nearby village of Jensen Beach. The point is that it was coastal and warm -- and that while I was growing up I ate a lot of oysters.

I can't quite remember the name of the place we would drive to to buy oysters; it was more than an hour up the coast. We would buy them by the bushel in burlap bags (I'm not that old; this was the '70s). They were cheap and muddy, and we'd dump them on our front lawn and hose them off.

I did a bit of oyster shucking even as a kid, but I've never gotten great at it. At a certain point my family got lazy and we started steaming them open on the grill. They weren't really cooked; once they opened up we took them right off and ate them.

They were good. They were a little dirty, but I loved them.

Fast forward. For reasons I don't care to go into, I now live at the other, far end of the east coast. I live in Maine. It's at least as cold here as it was warm in Florida. Here, if you want to surf or swim, you wear a wet suit, even in summer. I do it sometimes, but I don't like it. There's something unnatural about putting a layer of neoprene -- or anything else for that matter -- between you and the ocean.

I noticed soon after moving up here that oysters are expensive compared to down south. Down there, quarter oysters were routine during happy hour. (Yes, I lived there for a while when I was legal.) Dime or even nickel oysters were not unheard of.

Up here, a typical, reasonable price is $18 a dozen. That's a buck-fifty per oyster. A buck fifty'd buy half a dozen oysters during a quarter-oyster happy hour.

Guess what? They're worth it. Cold water oysters are that much better.

The oldest oyster growers in Maine have been around for 30 years, but it's still a fairly new industry. Because the water is colder, they grow slower. In Florida, oysters reach maturity in a season, I understand. In Maine it takes three years. And they taste better.

I still haven't learned to shuck oysters properly. Here in Portland, Maine, we have good seafood. My favorite place is Harbor Fish Market; it's on a warf, and very picturesque. The fish is fresh and good, and they take good care of it.

Today at Harbor Fish i bought a dozen raw oysters -- Winter Points, from just up the coast a ways, in the town of Bath. I struggled a bit with the shucking -- a couple didn't seem to have a seam -- but I got it done in the end. And they were delicious.

If you're ever in Maine and want oysters, many of the locals will send you to J's Oyster Bar. It is my opinion that you should resist the advice. Avoid it. J's seems like an authentic place -- it's not fancy or pretentious -- but I have sat at the bar and watched them RINSE their raw oysters. They shuck them quick and carelessly, and they don't wash them that well before shucking. They end up gritty, like the ones I had as a kid on my front lawn. So then, to remove the grit, they wash them --  I mean, they wash the bare oysters after they are shucked.. And when they wash them -- as any experienced oyster eater knows -- they wash away the taste of the sea. You're left with a chunk of bad texture. The experience is ruined.

So where should you go? Sorry, there's not a good place right now. There's an oyster bar on Commercial Street, with a good selection of fresh oysters and a decent bar -- Old Port Oyster Bar or something -- but the rest of the food is awful. So maybe you should go there and just eat oysters.

For a while there was a place called Scales in the Portland Public Market. Scales was owned by the people who own our most famous restaurant -- Fore Street -- but they closed down when the Public Market closed, which has been maybe 3 years ago. At Scales the shuckers knew what they were doing -- you could count on plenty of liquor on the shell, and minimal grit -- and you could get perfectly fried seafood with fries in a paper cone for less than $10 (oysters, clams, scallops, fish -- whatever you like). They served good white wine in unpretentious little juice glasses. And then they shut down the public market -- it was losing money -- and we lost Scales. They told us then that they would be resurrected as soon as they found the right spot, but it hasn't happened yet. So for now I have no good place to eat oysters. Except home, and I don't do that much.

But I did it tonight, and the experience of shucking them left me only slightly wounded -- just a small cut on my left hand. It didn't bleed much.

So what has any of this got to do with jazz, etc.? I'm tempted to write, 'if you don't know, give it up' -- but that would be obnoxious. Not everyone loves oysters like I do.

Yet there's something about the experience of shucking an oyster, then sucking it off the shell with a little of your own blood, that feels about the same as jazz. It's life, encompassed. Like jazz. I know that's pretentious; blame it on the gin.

By the way, during that dinner I listened to a 1956 reissue of the 1950 LP Masterpieces by Ellington, bought at a little record store in Biddeford, Maine a couple of weeks ago. A little noisy, but amazing music and superb mono sound. It contains the only version I have of Mood Indigo that has vocals.

Allen Toussaint: The Bright Mississippi

If this blog is mostly about old vinyl, why is my first record-related post about a new-vinyl release? Because it's what I'm listening to write now.

Allen Toussaint's latest, on 2 vinyl records on Nonesuch, is a lovely, brilliant recording, and the music is very satisfying. It's new and modern, but it's right where I am right now in my interests: Early, New Orleans-inflected jazz.

My only complaint is the way the piano is recorded. Everything else sounds lovely -- woody, textured, real. But the Toussaint's Steinway sounds like an electric piano.

A small complaint about an excellent LP.

New Vinyl and Old Vinyl

I went to Border's today, the book store. My 11-year-old son loves books. That's a very good thing, but expensive. We bought him five books. Maybe -- just maybe -- they'll get him through the weekend.

Guess what else I saw at Borders -- our local store, in South Portland, Maine. Vinyl records. At Borders, which was, last time I checked, a division of K-Mart (or was it Wal-Mart?).  The selection is even worse -- if that's possible -- than it is at Best Buy. I may have seen ten titles there, and considering the prices -- pretty much $19.95 and up for records I can get six or seven dollars cheaper at my local independent music store -- there were none that I was interested in buying.

Yet there are now two stores at the mall that carry vinyl. When there's vinyl at the mall -- twice -- vinyl is officially back.

To be honest, I don't care much about vinyl at Borders or Best Buy. I'll buy my records -- even the new ones -- elsewhere. And even if they start carrying records at Rite Aid or the local gas station, new vinyl is likely to remain, for me, a sideline. I expect to remain committed to the old stuff.  Consider this one of the central commitments of this blog: Vinyl is wonderful; yes, I do think it sounds better, and anyway I love it. And old vinyl -- vinyl with a legacy -- is better than new.

I'll consider both here, old records and new. I'll probably even mention a CD or two; we'll see. But old records --- by which I mean records that were issued before CDs became the dominant medium -- are best.

What's This About?

For years I've been obsessed by recorded audio and its reproduction in the home. This obsession led me to become a Contributing Editor for Stereophile. I'm one of the lower-profile Stereophile editors, but I take it seriously.

Lately I've been listening to records a lot, with great pleasure. I've found myself with a lot of opnions -- about the music and the way it sounds -- and this led to the creation of this blog.

The idea is simple: It's a place where I'll make observations on the music I'm listening to and the equipment I'm listening through. This is not intended to be a review site per se, and there's no pretense of objectivity.  Rather, it's all very personal.

Then again, that -- personal -- is the way I feel that all such things should be. Listening to music is a deeply emotional -- hence, personal -- experience. Sure, there is an 'objective' sound -- sound waves propagating through the air -- but how important is that, really, when it comes to listening to music? Not very, in my view.

So what you'll get here, if you choose to read, is my very personal views about the -- or rather, my -- listening experiences. Lately I've been listening to jazz, so that's the blog's main focus. I'm not a jazz expert, but I have sincere and, I hope, interesting responses to what I listen to.  If you want record reviews, look elsewhere. But I hope you'll find my observations interesting and useful. I hope you'll read.