Blue Note First Pressings -- Estate Sale Jackpot!

Recently I got an email about an online auction for an estate sale near me. I took a look at the accompanying photos and noted that there were five or six lots of LPs up for bid, with about 20 LPs in each lot. The photos were not great, but most of the titles seemed to be easy-listening stuff and movie soundtracks. However, in one lot I could make out Someday My Prince Will Come, and Porgy and Bess by Miles Davis. There were a few other jazz titles mixed in with some other lots, and in one photo I saw a couple of Ahmad Jamal albums along with a June Christy and a Julie London. I'm a big Ahmad Jamal fan, so I took a closer look to see what else was included. In addition to the Jamal albums, I saw what looked like copies of The Jazz Messengers At The Cafe Bohemia, Volume 1 and 2. Hold the phone. Those are extremely collectible Blue Note LPs, potentially worth a small fortune depending on the pressing and condition. 

Could they be original 1956 pressings? I went back through all the auction photos and studied the albums carefully. I made a list and looked at the pressing dates online. From what I could see, every single album from the estate was released between 1955 and 1962. Well, that was promising, though of course it was impossible to tell the condition of any of the albums. But even if the Blue Notes turned out to be a little beat up, or 1960 re-pressings, they would still be well worth having. Since the minimum bid for any of the lots was only $2, I figured there was nothing to lose and punched in my bid.

A couple of days later, as the end of the auction neared, I logged onto the site to see how my bid was doing. Still $2. As the clock ticked down, all of a sudden the high bid popped up to $6, beating my original $5 maximum bid. Luckily for me (and unlike eBay for example), this auction site had a feature to extend the bid time if a bid was entered near the deadline. So I put in a maximum $25 bid and waited. Once again, just before the deadline, I got outbid. Dang. Clearly someone else had spotted the two Blue Notes. The bidding went back and forth a few times, each of us adding $5, until I finally got tired of messing around and upped my maximum bid to $125. I figured that even if the Blue Notes were re-pressings or weren't in great shape, by adding in the Ahmad Jamals, the Julie London and a few others, it would still be a reasonable price for the entire lot. Luckily for me, the other bidder gave up at $100, and I got the albums for $105. 

I had to wait another couple of days until the items were available for pick up. After driving over and claiming my bag of albums - 22 in all - I took them back to the car. I couldn't resist taking a quick peak at the Blue Notes. They were in old, poly outer sleeves that were pretty grimy. However, the jackets themselves looked to be in good shape. I gingerly took the Volume 1 disk out of the jacket (there was no dust sleeve) and started running through the list of things to look for in a Blue Note first pressing: Framed front cover? Check. Flat edge on the vinyl? Check. Hand-etched RVG (Rudy Van Gelder) and a Plastylite "P" stamp in the run out on both sides? Check. 767 Lexington Ave. address on both sides of the label? Check. Deep groove on both sides? Check. New York 21 address on the back of the jacket? Check. The same for Volume 2. My heart skipped a beat and I carefully put the albums back in their jackets. I put the bag of records in two more bags, wrapped my down jacket around that, buckled the seat belt around everything, and headed home. 

I'll save you any further suspence. When I got back, I went straight to the LondonJazzCollector site to check his incredibly detailed and well-researched post called the "Complete Guide to the Blue Note Labels." After verifying everything twice, I am happy to report that I am the proud owner of first pressings of Blue Note BLP 1507 and BLP 1508. The vinyl on my copies cleaned up beautifully, leaving a great gloss with only some light scuffs and hairlines. The jackets are clean and sharp, with no splits or shelf wear, and only a trace of edge wear at the bottom corners. After playing them through, I grade them at VG++/VG+ and VG+/VG+. Both sound spectacular. I didn't notice it the first time I inspected the covers, but have since found that on the back at the top left of both jackets is what I assume is the original sales price, written in very small numbers with a pencil: 4.98. Checking online auction sites and Discogs, I estimate that these copies today are probably worth upwards of $500 each. Not bad for a $105 investment. And that's not even counting the Ahmad Jamals! 

Here is the run out info from the two albums. BLP 1507, original 1956 mono release:

Side 1: BN-LP-1507-A RVG [Plastylite "P" stamp]
Side 2: BN-LP-1507-B RVG [Plastylite "P" stamp]

BLP 1508, original 1956 mono release:

Side 1: BN-LP-1508-A RVG [Plastylite "P" stamp]
Side 2: BN-LP-1508-B RVG [Plastylite "P" stamp] 

As you can see from the photos, the labels look almost brand new.

I have had quite a bit of luck finding good deals at estate sales in the past, including a stack of about 35 minty jazz LPs from the 1950s and early 1960s (Miles Davis, Dave Brubeck, Cannonball Adderley, Charlie Parker, Duke Ellington, Gerry Mulligan, etc.) that I found a couple of years ago for $2 each. However, I'm afraid it may be quite a while before I run across anything to match finding two original Blue Note pressings.

Enjoy the music!

Sammy Davis Jr. - The Wham Of Sam

I have 39 albums by Frank Sinatra. Although, technically, since one of them is a French box set with three disks, and another is a box set with six disks, I guess I really have 47 Sinatra albums. Which seems about right, no?  I also have 15 Dean Martin albums. And while I do enjoy listening to a little Deano from time to time, the real reason I have so many of his albums is because I keep finding NM copies in thrift stores for $1 apiece. And so, why not?

But until recently, I never gave much thought to the third key member of the Rat Pack - Sammy Davis Jr. Pound for pound, Davis was by far the most talented member of the group. He began performing in Vaudeville at the age of three. A consummate entertainer, Davis was a terrific dancer, a star on Broadway, a natural comedian, and one of the best impersonators in the business. And, as one reviewer famously put it, "he could sing his ass off." 

As luck would have it, a few months ago I stumbled across a couple of Davis's albums at a used record store and thought I'd see what all the fuss was about. 

The first LP I bought is a superb NM copy of The Sounds of '66, a live date recorded in Las Vegas, where Davis is backed by the Buddy Rich Orchestra. Holy Toledo, what a fantastic session. Rich and his band burn the house down, playing charts by George Rhodes and Ernie Freeman. Davis shows his amazing jazz vocal chops, matching the high-powered band note for note. 

The album opens with a spoken introduction by Davis. He says that it's 5:15 in the morning, and anybody listening to the record at home should know that he's in a room full of musicians, artists, friends, and family in the Copa Room of the Sands Hotel in Los Vegas where they are recording a live session. Apparently, after Sammy finished his regular show at the Sands that evening, he and Rich's band gathered for the recording session. The Sands Hotel was, of course, the clubhouse for the Rat Pack, where Frank, Dean, and Sammy headlined the bill -- individually and collectively -- throughout much of the 1960s.

The album's liner notes provide more details about the session: "By two o'clock, the lounge was jammed. People stacked up so high nobody could read the "Capacity" signs. Waitresses immobilized between stuck together tables. In a town where nothing distracts the hot roller, hot rollers got distracted . . . This was full-steam, all the way. No let up. Rhodes and Freeman alternated conducting the main Rich orchestra. Ernie Freeman got so wound up in the tempo of one number his arms flew out and his wrist watch sailed half way across the stage."  Too bad nobody had an iPhone to record the moment on video. 

This has to be one of the hottest, swinging-est vocal recordings I've ever heard. Every arrangement is fantastic, and the fever pitch never stops. On the closing number, Buddy Rich gives a drumming clinic that will take away whatever is left of your breath, with Sammy killing the lyrics. Just wow.

The other album I picked up at the same time is Davis's first recording for the newly-formed Reprise label, a 1961 release called The Wham of Sam. (Is that a great title or what?) Even compared to the amazing performance on The Sounds of '66, this is still an extremely strong outing. Since it's a studio recording, it lacks some of the heat of the live session. But not much. Davis is backed by a who's who of the West Coast's top session men, including Shelly Mann, Bud Shank, Mel Lewis, and Tony Rizzi. The arrangements, by long-time collaborators Marty Paich and Morty Stevens, are on a par with anything Nelson Riddle ever did for Sinatra. Plus, the blue cover photo of Davis holding a legendary Shure Unidyne microphone is a stone classic. My copy is the original 1961 mono version, just a couple of ticks away from NM, with a big fat lush mono sound.

In addition to the great performances on these two albums, as a collector I always enjoy seeing the artwork on the early Reprise labels. Frank Sinatra formed Reprise Records in 1960 in order to give himself more artistic freedom for his recordings, bringing along his Rat Pack buddies Dean Martin and Sammy Davis Jr. By 1963, Sinatra was tired of running a record label and sold Reprise to Warner Brothers. The label flourished well into the 1980s and was home to such mega stars as Neil Young, Joni Mitchell, Jimi Hendrix, and Frank Zappa, just to name a few.

The label on The Wham of Sam (left top) with the blue/orange/green design is one of several different color schemes for Reprise's famous "Steamboat" label. Named, obviously for the steamboat in the top left corner. My copy is a deep groove version, pressed by Columbia Records at their Terre Haute, IN plant. 

My copy of The Sounds of '66 (at left), is the same design with a different color scheme. This green/pink/yellow version of the Steamboat label was used by Reprise from 1963-1968. I've also seen gray/pink/yellow and green/blue/yellow versions. Sinatra's early Reprise albums are unique in that the steamboat is replaced by a photo of Frank in the top left corner. My copy of The Sounds of '66 was also pressed by Columbia Records, but this one at their Pittman, NJ plant.=

Since my earlier score, I've picked up another half dozen of Davis's LPs -- all from the 1960s. All the albums are strong, with great charts and superb performances. However, perhaps owing to his early days in Vaudeville, Davis had a tendency to include a song or two that were a little schmaltzy or overly dramatic. Given the high quality of his albums, those occasional clunkers stick out. But, oh my, what a voice.

If your only memory of Sammy Davis is his embarrassingly saccharine 1972 hit "The Candy Man," you owe it to yourself to give a listen to some of his 1960s Reprise albums.

Enjoy the music!