Is It Possible To Have Too Many Records?

In the past few months we've been doing a lot of traveling -- visiting New York, Nashville, Spain, Portugal, northern California, southern Oregon, with a number of local trips mixed in.  As you might expect, everywhere we've gone I've spent time visiting used record stores and antique malls in search of LPs.  In addition, I've bought a number of new releases online and have stumbled across some great deals on Discogs and Ebay that were too good to pass up.  The result is that I've added more than a hundred albums to my collection in a very short time.

This is not the actual pile of records I bought. Warning: having this many records is hazardous to your health and will likely void your lease. Side effects may include vertigo and disorientation.

While getting a bunch of new records is clearly not a problem in and of itself, as I stare at the ever-growing pile of vinyl that I need to clean, catalog, and listen to, I've started to wonder if buying records is getting in the way of my enjoyment of music.  I generally spend four or five hours a day listening to records.  Sometimes I know just what I want to hear, and other times I'll browse the shelves and see what catches my eye - an old favorite or a hidden gem that I've forgotten about.  For me, that's a big part of the attraction of listening to music on LPs.  I get to reread the liner notes, enjoy the labels and cover art, and am reminded of where and when I bought the particular album.

But here is the problem: When I buy records, I have a regular process of cleaning, cataloging, and listening to the new titles.  And when it comes to jazz albums, I also like to spend some time learning more about the sessions, the musicians, maybe comparing different pressings, and reading reviews of the music.  Naturally, all of that takes some time.

The actual pile of new and used records waiting to be processed.

So with a never-ending stack of newly-purchased LPs, I find that I'm not spending much time listening to records already in my collection.  Whenever I put on Sgt. Peppers, Kind of Blue, or anything already in the collection, I feel a little guilty that I'm not cleaning and listening to my new finds instead.

The obvious solution is to quit buying so many records.  (Though I have to admit that those words in that order don't even make sense to me.)  I won't live long enough to listen to all the records I already have, so what's the point of buying more?  The answer, of course, is that no matter what you collect -- LPs, stamps, coins, comic books, baseball cards, wine, or whatever -- the fun isn't just in having a big honking pile of whatever it is you like to collect.  It's enjoying and appreciating what you have, while adding new and interesting items.  And like most collectors, I love the thrill of the chase -- hunting down obscure releases online, stumbling on an original Blue Note at a yard sale, or maybe discovering a new artist that I've never heard of at the local antiques mall.


Recently at one of my local haunts, I found a 1973 album on the Atlantic label called In April Came The Dawning Of The Red Suns by a group named Ramatam.  They put out two albums, the self-titled Ramatam in 1972, and In April in 1973.  I have never heard of them in my life and am pretty certain that I've never, ever seen one of their albums before.  How is that possible?  Well, it turns out to be a very interesting album (despite the inclusion of a straight-up cover of Stars and Stripes Forever.)  Plus, it has a great, oh so 1970s cover.  How could I not buy it?

Back to our story.  Despite grousing about having too many records (talk about your first world problems), I picked up a bunch of really interesting LPs during our travels this summer.  While we were in Portugal and Spain, I hit eight or ten used record stores, on the lookout for European artists that I like, as well as some Brazilian albums that are either very hard to find or amazingly expensive in the U.S.

Louie Louie, in Lisbon

In general, my record shopping experience in Portugal was not great.  In Lisbon I found an indoor shopping center that had three different used record dealers.  Unfortunately, in each one the selection was limited and expensive, and the building was so hot and stuffy that after about a half hour I gave up and went looking for a cold drink.  I had better luck at a shop called Louie Louie, which is downtown near Rossio Square, where I found a couple of LPs by the great Brazilian artist, Jorge Ben.  

Madrid, on the other hand, is overrun with excellent used record stores, including a half dozen that were within easy walking distance of where we were staying near the Palacio Real.  Among the ones that I particularly liked were Bajoelvolcan, La Metralletta (despite their regrettable "machine gun" name, with matching logo), as well as Discos Babel and Discos Bangla Desh.  The last two are side-by-side on a street behind Opera Square.

Discos Bangla Desh on the left, and Babel Discos on the right

I could easily have spent another two or three days going through all the record stores in Madrid, although I would have needed another suitcase to get all the albums home.  As it was, I found some great copies of Italian pop records, Spanish re-pressings of Brazilian disks by Vinicious and Odette Lara, Astrud Gilberto, and Antonio Carlos Jobim, an interesting early 1970s Colombian pop album by a sister act named Elia and Elizabeth, a couple of tango albums by Astor Piazzolla, the Argentinian master of the bandoneon, some UK and Spanish pressings of 70s rock albums, and even a NM copy of the U.S.-pressed Original Jazz Classic release of "Portrait of Wes" (Montgomery).

Finally, at a Madrid branch of the FNAC store (a French-based home electronics chain), they were practically giving away brand new re-pressings of classic jazz LPs from the 50s and 60s.  There are a slew of EU companies putting out these reprints, including Wax Time, Pan Am, DOL, Doxy, and Barcelona's own Jazz Wax label.  No doubt you've run across some of these if you've spent any time looking at jazz LPs in the last few years.  There is some discussion about the quality of these pressings, as well as questions about whether the companies are taking unfair advantage of lax European copyright laws to re-press albums that are still under copyright in the U.S.  Even if the later is true, as far as I know these records are perfectly legal to buy and own and are widely sold in the U.S. on Amazon and elsewhere.  As I wrote in my post about Rhino/Scorpio Blue Note re-pressings, as long as you know what you're buying (albums that are likely cut from digital files), it's hard to argue with brand new classic jazz albums that cost $10-12.

La Metralletta in Madrid

And while I've seen complaints about the quality of these reissues online, I will say that all of the EU jazz reprints that I have are extremely well done.  They are all pressed on 180-gram vinyl, have nicely-printed jackets on heavy stock (although usually not the original artwork), and seem to be pressed primarily at gzvinyl in the Czech Republic.  Even if they aren't the last word in fidelity, they sound pretty good to me, and there is something to be said for knowing that you are getting a brand new, flat, quiet, well-pressed album.  I have dozens of records pressed by gzvinyl, and every one of them is perfect.  I haven't been nearly as lucky with recent U.S. pressings.  (Speaking of which, I received my copy of the new remaster of Tom Wait's Blue Valentine in the mail today.  It was pressed by Independent Record Pressing in Bordentown, NJ, a relatively new plant that opened in 2015.  As I was cleaning the record, I saw that it had a bad scratch on the first track.  When I put it on the turntable, it skipped three or four times in the first 20 seconds.  Really??  It seems that about one third of all the new U.S. pressings I buy has some defect right out of the jacket -- unless they come from RTI, QRP, or a couple of the other high-end pressing plants.  Is quality control really that hard?  The Czechs seem to be able to do it.  What's their secret?  I don't know, maybe they just hire somebody to look at the albums before they get put in the sleeves and pull the ones with the big gauges in the vinyl?  You can read my previous post if you want more of this rant.)

In my trips to New York and Nashville, I was mostly disappointed with the shops that I visited.  I bought a few things, but overall -- and not surprisingly -- it seems that shops in big U.S. cities are more expensive and more picked over.  Since there is less competition, I tend to find more interesting records (and at much better prices) in record shops and antique stores in smaller cities and towns.

Above is a small selection of the haul from our Spain and Portugal trip. 

Enjoy the music!

Tips For Buying Used Records And General Grousing About New Vinyl

I buy lots of vinyl from used record stores, thrift shops, and antiques stores.  In theory that's great, because I have a chance to check the condition of the cover and examine the vinyl to see if there are scratches or other issues.  But sometimes even that isn't good enough.

Some months ago I went to a record fair in a town near me with about 25 dealers offering used vinyl.  Over the course of an hour or so of browsing, I found a number of interesting titles at several different tables.  In each case, I checked the vinyl carefully before buying, and ended up with ten albums that looked pretty clean.  Unfortunately, the hall where the fair was held was dim, making it hard to really see the vinyl.  When I got the LPs home, I discovered to my horror that nearly all of them had scratches and scuffs that I had missed.  Still, I was hopeful that after a good cleaning they might sound OK.

Long story short, four of the albums are so noisy that I will never play them.  A couple that looked pretty iffy actually ended up playing fine because they are mono.  The rest were fine.  Since the albums had not been graded by the dealers, I had no one to blame but myself (and the dim lighting).  Luckily I didn't pay all that much for any of the titles.  But it serves as a cautionary tale: Even someone like me, who has been collecting LPs for more than 40 years, can have trouble judging the condition of a record just by looking at the vinyl.

Which, of course, is the problem when buying albums online, where nearly all the used albums for sale are visually graded.  And the fact is, even an experienced dealer can't reliably grade records just by looking at them.  I don't fault the dealer; he's hustling to add titles to his online site.  He can't possibly listen to all of them to assign a true "play" grade.  Instead, he grabs a stack of albums, spends 10-15 seconds looking at the condition of the vinyl under a strong light, and then makes a decision.  If it's nice and shiny and there are no obvious scratches, it's NM.  If it's shiny but has a couple of light hairline scratches or scuffs, it's VG+. If it has some more serious scratches but still looks pretty decent, it's VG.  If it's worse than than, I hope he throws it away.

On the other hand, I have dozens if not hundreds of LPs that look as shiny and new as the day they were pressed, but sound awful.  They may look great, but have ticks, pops, or other surface noise that detracts from the listening experience.  Sometimes it's a bad pressing, sometimes it's groove wear from a cheap turntable, sometimes there is a barely noticeable warp, or the LP is pressed off-center.  An album with any of these problems, no matter how shiny and new, is not NM.  But if I only looked at those records and didn't listen to them, I'd probably agree that they appear NM.

So how do you protect yourself when buying at a used record store or record fair?  Your best defense is to find the strongest light source available and really take some time to check for scratches or other possible defects.  (The flashlight function on your cell phone works pretty well - just ignore the strange looks from other browsers.)  Of course, it's easy to miss a small scratch or scuff, particularly in a dark store or when you're digging in the boxes under the regular bins.  So always check the amount of wear around the spindle hole as well.  It can be a good indicator of how often the record was played and how it was handled.  If you find small scratches on the vinyl surface, lightly feel them with your fingertips.  It's almost always true that if you can't feel the scratch, you probably won't be able to hear it.  With mono disks, even if you can feel the scratch it still might play well.  I have mono albums that look terrible but still play VG+ or better.  

Sometimes used record stores will have a record player or two attached to headphones so that customers can check the condition of the vinyl.  But, really, unless I'm looking at an album that costs upwards of $25 or so, I'm not going to take the time to listen to it in the store.  And just checking a few short sections at random isn't much use.  For that reason, I don't buy copies of popular albums that you can find for $10 or less just about anywhere, unless they look immaculate.  The exception being the stuff in the $1 bins.  For those, as long as the jacket is in reasonable shape, I usually don't even look at the vinyl.  For a buck, I'll take my chances.  Our local PTA thrift store gets all the ones that I don't keep and can resell them for a dollar.  It's the circle of life.

How about ordering online?  Obviously you can't inspect the vinyl.  So my simple rule is to assume that the LP will be one grade below the listed grade.  If it's listed as NM, it'll probably have a few ticks or other light noise that makes it an actual VG+.  I'm OK with that.  What I don't want is an album that is graded VG+ because it looks pretty nice, but in reality has 20 seconds of ticks from a minor scratch or some crackle or other groove noise that would have earned it a VG if the dealer had actually listened to it.  If the NM albums I order turn out to be genuine NMs, then I'm ahead of the game.  But if they're really VG+ with a couple of ticks or some other very minor surface noise, I'm still a happy buyer.

The other reason I seldom order albums unless they are graded NM, is that we can argue all day long about how much noise is allowed for a record to be graded VG+.  But if a record is advertised and sold as NM, then there is not much room for discussion: A record sold as NM should play with virtually no surface noise.

If I receive an album graded NM that has significant surface noise, I let the dealer know and politely propose what I think is a fair partial or full refund. To date, having bought hundreds of albums online, I've found that dealers are almost always willing to make it right.  

I have broken my rule about only ordering NM vinyl on occasion.  I once found an online dealer with a terrific selection of vintage jazz at very reasonable prices, nearly all graded VG+.  I found about 25 titles that I wanted, and then sent an email to the dealer with the list.  I told him that I only wanted the disks if they were really, really, really VG+, including my definition of the grade.  He agreed to pull the order and then recheck the disks.  In the end he found that three or four were iffy, so we deleted those from the order.  All the rest were at least VG+.  If you're ordering enough to make it worth the dealer's while, it's a good strategy.  And you can be sure I'll be ordering from that dealer again.

United Record Pressing, Nashville

Finally, a word about brand new albums that sound terrible.  I mean, a brand new album should sound great, right?  Apparently not.  I buy dozens of new albums every year.  For mainstream new releases or reprints made in the US, I find that about a third of the albums have issues, usually random ticks and pops that no amount of cleaning will get rid of, but also a number with groove noise, warps, or off-center spindle holes.  (In my experience, current European pressings are much better than their US counterparts overall.  When I have a choice, I often order the EU version of an album from Amazon UK or a dealer in Europe.)  Look, I understand that making records is a complicated process.  I'm frankly amazed that you can squeeze a microscopic groove into a chunk of molten plastic and then use a diamond-tipped stylus to play back phenomenal-sounding music.  And I also understand that the vinyl industry just about ceased to exist in the 90s.  The great pressing plants run by Columbia, Capitol, Allied, Presswell, RCA, Specialty Records, and the like, are all gone.  New plants are springing up, but they are being staffed by a whole new generation of operators.  The guys with 30 or 40 years experience making records are long gone.

Maybe because of the increasing demand for vinyl, I think things are slowly getting a better.  A few years ago I swore off buying any album pressed by United Record Pressing in Nashville after getting three or four really noisy Blue Note reissues that were pressed there.  However, I've recently gotten a couple of albums made by United that sound pretty good, so maybe they're finally addressing their QC issues.  And there are other US plants, like QRP and RTI, that are making high-quality records.  However, at least for the moment, I have to say that the overall level of quality for new vinyl releases is nowhere near the level of albums made in the 50s, 60s, or 70s.  I have thousands of albums from those decades, and only a handful have the kinds of problems that are common with modern releases.

On the other hand, I have had good luck with US audiophile labels.  Albums by Analogue Productions, Mobile Fidelity, Impex, Classic Records, Music Matters -- just to name a few -- generally sound superb.  But not always.  I was delighted to see that MoFi had released a remastered version of Ry Cooder's classic album "Paradise And Lunch."  It's one of my all time favorite records with great songs and inspired performances.  I have two copies of the original Warner Brothers pressing from 1974 that are a touch above VG+.  But I was anxious to hear what Kurt Wonderlich at Mobile Fidelity could do with the original tapes and ordered the new version.

First the good news: The sound is extraordinary.  The original albums sound very good, but this is a whole new level of texture and detail. The only problem is that my copy has a skip between tracks A2 and A3.  (Yes, it's actually between the tracks, so it doesn't affect the music, but I still have to get up and move the stylus.) I have dozens of MoFi recordings (most, like this one, pressed by Record Technology Incorporated in Camarillo, CA), and have hardly ever heard so much as a random tick on any of their disks.  I cleaned the new album twice.  I used my digital usb microscope to inspect the groove and see what the heck was going on.  I couldn't see anything that would cause a skip.  I tried it on my backup turntable -- it still skipped.  Grrr.  Now I have to go the trouble of getting a return authorization, sending it back, and waiting a week or two for a replacement.  And of course, if it turns out to be a pressing defect, there is no guarantee that the replacement won't have the exact same skip. 

Another new album I bought recently, a repressing of Astrud Gilberto's Now, had the worst warp I've even encountered.  The needle goes up and down like the skiers' knees in the mogul competition in the winter Olympics.  Once again, I had to go to the trouble of requesting a return authorization.  In this case, the dealer said that if I'd send him a short video clip to show the warp, he wouldn't ask me to send the disk back, which I thought was a great idea.  He was suitably impressed by the video and immediately agreed to send a new copy.  I had a similar experience with a Discogs dealer who sold me three LPs advertised as NM, that turned out to be more like G+. He was incredulous that he had could have been so badly mistaken about the disks, so I offered to send him brief audio clips from each album. After he heard them, he blamed one of his staff for the mis-grading, but agreed to refund the price without making me send them back. Below is actual footage of my needle in the record groove.

The bottom line is, unless you are spending hundreds or thousands of dollars for a first edition Blue Note online (when you want to be absolutely sure that the album has been meticulously evaluated and correctly graded), you should assume that the condition of any record you buy will be one grade below whatever is listed.  That way, as long as the price is reasonable, you're still going to be pretty happy with the listening experience.  It's also fairer to the dealers, who I think on the whole try to be accurate in their grading.  I recently read a rant of a review by a buyer who was incensed that an album labeled "very good" wasn't very good at all.  Well, duh.  The dealer's response was measured:  He suggested that the buyer spend some time reading the guidelines for record grades.  Just like the grades for stamps, coins, and other collectibles, very good isn't very good at all.

If you're buying used LPs from a store or at a record fair, do your best to carefully inspect the vinyl in a good, strong light.  But also just accept the fact that sometimes even a record that looks great will still have some issues.  You can always upgrade when you find a better copy later.  It's part of the fun of looking for LPs and the joy of listening to records in the first place.

Enjoy the music!

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!

UK Pressing Of Quadrophenia

Yes, I know that's not the cover of Quadrophenia, but bear with me. A few years ago at an outdoor flea market I was going through a box of classic rock records that were mostly beat to heck. Just as I was about to give up, I found a copy of the classic album Tommy by The Who that didn't look half bad. When I checked the vinyl, I was surprised to see that both disks appeared very clean. The included color booklet was nearly mint. Hmm. I asked the dealer if he'd take a couple of dollars less than the $10 price, and he accepted.

Once I got the record home, I cleaned it and then went to Discogs to see what version I had. I was very happy to see that I had scored a very nice first US Decca pressing. While disk one turned out to have a few light ticks, disk two was minty. And the overall sound was fantastic.

I mention this because the other day I played it through and once again was floored at how great the music is and how wonderful the LPs sound. So I thought I'd keep the vibe going by playing Pete Townshend's other rock opera, Quadrophenia. I put Tommy back on the shelf and started looking for my copy of Quadrophenia. Which is when I realized to my horror that I don't have a copy of Quadrophenia. How is that possible? (Well, I do have a copy on CD, but I haven't played an actual CD in years.) Clearly this aggression will not stand, man.

I fired up Discogs and discovered that there are at least 144 different releases of Quadrophenia, from Brazilian vinyl to Blu-Ray discs with high-rez files. Since I was only interested in vinyl, that narrowed my options to about 75 versions. Realistically, my buying choices were used original UK or US pressings, or new US or EU re-pressings. But which of the many versions has the best sound? After reading lots of opinions on different online forums, the consensus seems to be that the original UK pressing on Track Record is the one to have. Back to Discogs where I found approximately 85 original 1973 UK copies for sale. I narrowed my search down to the 30 or so that were listed as being in near mint condition. Most of the copies were from UK sellers, and the prices (converted from British pounds) ranged from about $25 to $250. Since I was reluctant to add an extra $15-20 for international shipping, I was pleased to find a copy from a U.S. seller that was listed as NM/VG+. Since the jacket wasn't quite as nice, it was nearer the low end of the price scale. Sold.

About a week later the album arrived. The original gatefold jacket is printed on flimsy UK stock, but except for some light edge wear, looks fine. The included booklet, which is glued in on the UK edition, is intact and looks great. I gave the disks a wash on my VPI 16.5 record cleaning machine and was very happy to see that the vinyl was flawless and truly near mint. So far so good. The only things missing were the original dust sleeves. Whoever owned this copy put the disks in poly-lined sleeves like the kind you find on EU classical pressings. Fine by me. After washing the disks, I replaced the sleeves with my go-to Diskeeper poly sleeves.

Now back to Discogs one more time to check on the pressing. Here are the matrix numbers from my set:

Side 1: 2406110 A//4 13 22 TML-M
Side 2: 2406110 B//4 13 9 TML-M
Side 3: 2406111 A//4 TML 11 20 TML-M
Side 4: 2406111 B//3 12 2 TML-M

Besides being mastered by George Jones (per the jacket credits) at Doug Sax's Mastering Lab in Los Angeles on their original Scully lathe (always a good thing), what else do we know?

Luckily for me, some kind Discogs member listed the following info about early pressings of Quadrophenia:

-First issues were printed by Euro-Albums Holland B.V., and have a soft, almost pastel gray finish. Later issues look blacker. [Yes for my copy.]

 -The spine of the original pressing reads: The Who Quadrophenia  Track Deluxe Double 2657 013. [Yes for my copy.] 

-Earliest pressings have a "delta" on each matrix. Subsequent pressings have two slashes //. [Mine has the slashes.]

-Early first pressings have predominantly ‘1’ & ‘2’ matrices, e.g. Side 1: 2406110 A (Delta) 1. [My disks have 3 & 4.]

So, overall a very nice early pressing. But of course the proof is in the listening. In a word, the sound is fantastic. It has enormous dynamic range, a huge sound stage that seems to stretch ten feet around the speakers, and incredible texture. With the volume cranked up to 11, the sound of the ocean waves crashing and Keith Moon assaulting his drum kit nearly knocked me over. By the time Roger Daltry screams "Love, reign o'er me" and the finale fades out, I felt like the guy in the iconic ad for Maxell cassette tapes from the 80s. 

It doesn't get much better than that. Thanks, Pete.

Enjoy the music.

Welcome To Moodsville

A couple of months ago I picked up a 2015 reprint of At Ease With Coleman Hawkins. The repressing is one of a series of reissues to celebrate the 65th anniversary of Prestige Records. Accompanying Hawkins are Tommy Flanagan on piano, Osie Johnson on drums, and Wendell Marshall on bass. The sessions were recorded by the great Rudy Van Gelder at his studio in Englewood Cliffs, NJ. As the title implies, this is a laid-back set, with nice arrangements and tasty interplay between Hawkins and Flanagan.

As you can see, the cover of the reissue features a photo of Coleman Hawkins with his tenor. At the top right, you can just make out a stylized "M" logo that says "Moodsville" underneath. The album was released by Prestige Records as a part of the Prestige/Moodsville series. The catalog number is MV 7, indicating that this was number seven in the series. I had never heard of the Moodsville imprint and did a little digging on the Web to find out more. It turns out that between 1960 and 1963, Prestige released 39 LPs under the Moodsville label. Among the headline artists (in addition to Hawkins and Flanagan) were Red Garland, Gene Ammons, Clark Terry, Kenny Burrell, and Eddie "Lockjaw" Davis. (You can see the entire list of titles here on Wikipedia.)

Initially, all the Moodsville jackets had a similar style (though with different colors), promoting the name of the series rather than the artist. Prestige clearly wanted to make it easy for buyers to identify the latest offering, no doubt hoping that fans would want to collect the entire set. Above is the original jacket of the At Ease With Coleman Hawkins release (a couple of other covers are shown below). As near as I can tell, Prestige abandoned the uniform jackets after MV 15. Beginning with MV 16, Interlude by Billy Taylor, (below) the jackets had more traditional cover photos, while moving the distinctive Prestige/Moodsville logo to the top right. 

But just what was the point of the Moodsville imprint? In the liner notes on the back of the original releases, Ron Eyre (Vice President of Sales at Prestige in 1961), provided an extensive explanation: 

"Some few years ago, along with the popular acceptance of the long playing high fidelity record a new vogue was created in the form of 'mood music.' It was found that there was a definite market for this type of listening and it was not long before there were scores of albums to be seen displayed on record counters with titles beginning with "Music to . . . " Whatever the individual wanted to do, there was an album of music to do it by. So mood music today is part of our lives, we push a button and turn a knob and we are automatically soothed by lush orchestrations of favorite ballads. Somewhere along the way it seems to us the feeling behind the fine original compositions of America's lyricists and composers has become a little obscured. We think the PRESTIGE/MOODSVILLE series will be a welcome departure from "mood" music. This series will feature top jazz artists interpreting choice ballads and standards and original compositions that will fit into the Moodsville series . . . "

"We at Prestige feel that there is room for honest jazz performances of ballads wherein the musical integrity of the artist is maintained and at the same time the original beauty and feeling of the ballad is not lost. Jazz is not only "that loud, frantic music" . . . We have sought to compile and record performances done in the spirit of good, valid jazz . . . These sessions then, will not be tight studio productions. The emphasis will be on relaxed, thoughtful and expressive jazz, after hours music if you will . . . You will notice that these albums are presented as volumes and that is just what they are. Each one will be part of a continued series wherein the artists will select their favorites and play them under informal and relaxed conditions."

In seems apparent that what Prestige hoped to do was cut in on the tremendous success for light jazz albums that dominated record sales in the late 1950s. Some of the best selling LPs at the end of the decade included orchestrated schmaltz by the likes of Mitch Miller, Martin Denny, Les Elgar, Montovani, Jackie Gleason Presents, and Ray Anthony, just to name a few. (You can find these albums by the dozens in just about any thrift shop in America.) Prestige's Moodsville series was an attempt to offer albums of "mood" music that weren't just cheesy ballads with strings, but real jazz played by real jazz artists. 

In the end, I don't know how well the Moodsville series sold, although they must have had some success since they managed to stick around long enough to release 39 albums over three years. 

Once I had learned more about the Moodsville imprint, I began looking around for other titles to add to my collection. So far, I've picked up MV 6 - The Red Garland Trio; MV 9 - The Tommy Flanagan Trio; MV 16 - Interlude by The Billy Taylor Trio; and MV 19 - Like Cozy by Shirley Scott. They are all excellent, enjoyable recordings, but so far, At Ease by Coleman Hawkins and Like Cozy are the real keepers. Copies of the original releases in even VG+ condition are scarce and quite expensive. However, some of the titles were re-released in mid 1980s with replicas of the original jackets and labels, and can be found at reasonable prices. My copy of At Ease With Coleman Hawkins is a repressing on the Original Jazz Classics (OJC) label from 2015. The dead wax info is:

Side 1: OJC-181 A S-92221  AJB  WMM
Side 2: OJC-181 B S-92222  AJB  WMM

That tells us that the OJC release was originally remastered by Adam Boose at Well Made Music in Cleveland, OH. However, since his initials are crossed out on my copy, someone else must have cut this particular lacquer. The pressing by Rainbo Records in Canoga Park, CA is flat, dead quiet, and sounds great. In general, I've had very good luck with Rainbo pressings.

Several of the Moodsville titles have also just been re-issued by Analogue Productions as part of a Prestige Records series containing "25 of the most collectible, rarest, most audiophile-sounding Rudy Van Gelder recordings ever made." All the albums in the series were remastered from the original master tapes by Kevin Gray and are being pressed by Quality Record Pressings in Salinas, KS, so they should sound fantastic. Among the Moodsville titles included are MV 29 - Bluesy Burrell by Kenny Burrell, and MV 18 - Gene Ammons' Nice And Cool. I've already got those in my online shopping basket.

If you like ballads and melodic jazz, you might want to track down some of the Moodsville releases and give them a try. They are perfect for a little late-night listening or just relaxing on a rainy day. Even better with a glass of red wine.

By the way, speaking of the "Music to  . . . " albums that Ron Eyre mentions in the liner notes above, the most clever by far is the hilariously titled Music to Listen to Red Norvo By album put out by Norvo in 1957. Cracks me up every time I see it.

Enjoy the music!

Shopping For Italian Rock 'N' Roll

We're just back from a couple of weeks in Italy. I first visited the country back in 1975 as a high school exchange student. I returned in 1978-79 to spend a year studying at the University of Florence. To date, I've spent nearly eight years living and working in Italy. I hope I can squeeze in a couple more years before I'm done.

Being in Italy as a high school and college student made quite an impression on me. I fell for everything about the country -- the history, the art, the culture, the food, the wine, and not least, Italian pop music. Though Italy had a burgeoning rock music scene in the 1960s, for me the golden age of Italian rock was the 1970s. Specifically, this was the time that cantautori (singer songwriters) like Lucio Dalla, Francesco De Gregori, Lucio Battisti, Frabrizio De Andre, Francesco Guccini and Eduardo Bennato, were turning out thoughtful, beautifully-crafted albums, seemingly one after the other.

Since the early days of rock 'n' roll music were so dominated by American and British singers and bands, I suspect most English speakers haven't given much thought to what was happening in other European countries during the first decades of pop music. Every country in Europe had its own home-grown rock scene, but except for Italy, I'd be hard pressed to name many other European pop artists from the era. Without consulting Google, I can come up with Serge Gainsbourg, France Gall, and Johnny Hallyday from France -- I have a couple of their albums around here someplace. But Germany? Spain? Belgium? The Netherlands? Denmark? Austria? Not a clue. Alright, there's ABBA from Sweden, but they don't really count because they were a world-wide phenomenon and they sang in English.

Anyhoo, since we hadn't been to Italy for a number of years, on this trip I planned to hit a few used records stores. We were visiting Florence and Venice, but as it turned out, I ended up only going to a couple of stores in Florence, both of which were terrific. 

The Twisted Jazz Shop

The first, in the Oltrarno (across the Arno River) near the church of Santa Maria del Carmine, was the Twisted Jazz Shop. Most of their stock is new, and as you might surmise, the store specializes in jazz LPs, of which they have a fabulous selection. They also have a good number of new popular and classical titles, as well as bins of used LPs under the main tables. To be honest, except for some outstanding but hard-to-find Italian jazz artists, it doesn't make much sense to buy classic jazz albums in Italy (or Europe, for that matter). In nearly all cases, they are much cheaper and easier to find in the U.S. So I spent my time going through the bins of used Italian pop albums. They thoughtfully provide kiddie-sized chairs to use while rummaging through the bins. 

I found 8-10 titles that I couldn't pass up, including a couple of 1980s albums by Eduardo Bennato and Antonello Venditti, and a couple of reissues of LPs by Paolo Conte. While Conte doesn't quite fit into the "rock" category, he is a singular figure in Italian popular music. A former lawyer who turned 70 this year, Conte is a painter, poet, songwriter, and gravelly-voiced pianist whose music is a unique blend of pop, chanson, jazz and a bunch of other stuff. His songs often have a pastiche of Italian, French and English lyrics. He's some kind of a cross between Jacques Brel, Mose Allison, and Tom Waits, to include Waits' caustic sense of humor. Well worth seeking out.

Rock Bottom Records

Rock Bottom Records

A few days later I had a chance to visit Rock Bottom Records, which is just around the corner from the Bargello Museum in Florence's historic center. Rock Bottom may be the best organized record store I've ever been in. Every one of their thousands of records, whether new or used, has an individual printed sheet with details about the LP's condition and pressing history, as well as information about the specific release and the artist. A helpful note on each used album states that the record has been cleaned with a Keith Monk Record Cleaning Machine. Impressive. After checking the condition of a few albums, I stopped looking, because it was clear that the folks running this store know their business. Take my word for it, if they say the record is in NM condition, it is. 

Perhaps as a result of the meticulous care they take of all their stock, and the fact that they seem to only carry used LPs in top condition, the prices are on the high end. And somewhat surprisingly, they seemed to have more U.S. and U.K. pressings than Italian. In fact, they had one of the best selections of original Allman Brothers albums that I've seen anywhere. However, in their small but well-curated selection of classic Italian pop, I managed to find a few gems, including a beautiful copy of Vol. 2 of a live concert by Fabrizio De Andre (below) from 1979 that I've been looking for for quite some time because I was at the concert! 

The albums (Vol. 1 and 2) were recorded at shows in Florence and Bologna. The cover of the LP (below) shows a photo of the crowd in Florence, and I've spent time with a magnifying glass trying to find myself and my friends.  Unfortunately, the photo is a little too fuzzy (and we may have been further back), so I haven't been able to spot us. Before the show they had announced that the concert was being recorded for an album, and (speaking of the Allman Brothers) my friends and I yelled "Whipping Post" a few times between songs, hoping that it would make it onto the album. Sadly, they edited us out.

As great as they are, classic pop albums by Italian singer songwriters don't have a very wide audience outside of Italy.  (Although I do have a few recordings by Italian pop artists singing in English that were clearly an attempt to increase their fan base.)  But the artists, in their own way, were every bit as important to Italy as Bob Dylan and Paul Simon and James Taylor were to the U.S. And it's fascinating to consider how the local rock scene in so many other countries in Europe (and elsewhere) played such an important role in the cultural life of those countries. If you stumble across any Italian or French or German pop albums in the used bins, I'd urge you to give them a shot.

Godetevi la musica! (Enjoy the music!)