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.