Joni Mitchell Retrospective - Part I

A young Roberta Joan Anderson

I've been a big fan of Joni Mitchell for just about as long as I can remember. The first album of hers that I bought was Ladies of the Canyon, which came out in 1970 when I was 13. My brother, who was two years older, had bought Clouds when it came out in 1969, so I was already familiar with her music. For a long time, Ladies of the Canyon remained my favorite Joni album. 

The reason I mention this is because we had a snowstorm a few days ago. And although it was only a few inches, it was enough to strand us indoors for a couple of days since we live on a very steep hill that never gets plowed. So I thought it would be a great time to take a look and listen to all the Joni Mitchell albums in my collection, which turns out to be exactly 30.

Song To A Seagull, 1968

Joni's debut album is titled Song To A Seagull, released in March, 1968. The album is usually just called Joni Mitchell since some of the seagulls spelling out Song To A Seagull in Joni's psychedelic cover painting were cut off in early pressings and are kind of hard to make out in any case. (In addition, Song To A Seagull is not printed on the spine or on the labels.) The album was released on Reprise Records, which was founded by Frank Sinatra in 1959 in order to give himself more artistic freedom. (Since he promptly sold the label to Warner Brothers in 1960, it must not have been as much fun as it sounded.) My copy of Song To A Seagull is a second pressing from 1970. The first pressing is on a two-toned orange/tan label which Reprise used from 1968-1970. In addition to the different colors, it is also distinguishable from their other label variations because it has the Warner Seven Arts logo (W7) in a small box beside the round Reprise Records logo at the top.

1968 first pressing

2nd pressing, 1970

In 1969, Warner Seven Arts was bought by the Kinney National Company, and the label was changed in 1970 to reflect that the parent company was now called Warner Brothers Records. The new label, used from 1970 to 1974, was changed to all orange (it looks more pumpkin-colored to me) and the W7 logo was dropped. The Reprise ":r" logo, which had been a tan circle, became an orange square without the word "reprise."  My copy is evidently an early reissue since it has the same matrix numbers as the original pressing:

Side 1: T 0 30753 RS6293A-1B  AB 13
Side 2: T 1 30754 RS6293B-1L  A

Pressed by Columbia Records at their Terre Haute, IN plant.

While my copy looks very clean, it has a number of ticks and some groove noise, no doubt caused by the cheap record player my brother and I used to listen to our albums. I would grade it a solid VG/VG. However, even if it were in better shape, this is just not a great-sounding album. Producer David Crosby had the bright idea of having Joni sing into an open grand piano, resulting in a rich, resonate sound, but also causing some high-level sympathetic string vibration that had to be filtered out later, along with most of the top end. (Which may be why the album has never been remastered.) That said, Stephen Still's bass on "Night In The City" is deep and punchy and the songs are terrific. I'll be looking for a cleaner copy at some point.

Clouds, 1969

Joni's second album is Clouds, released on Reprise Records in May, 1969. Like her first album, original pressings of Clouds are on the two-toned Reprise Records / Warner Seven Arts label. I have three copies of Clouds. One is an original 1969 pressing on the Warner Seven Arts label, one is a 1970 repressing on the solid pumpkin-colored label, and the third is a 1976 repressing. The 1976 label is identical to the 1970 label except it for the rim text at bottom. The 1970 label reads: Reprise Records, a Division of Warner Brothers Records, Inc., Made in U.S.A. The new label reads: Reprise Records, a division of Warner Brothers Records, Inc., 3300 Warner Blvd., Burbank, Calif. 91505, a Warner Communications Company, "W" logo, Made in U.S.A." The new "W" logo is commonly referred to as the sausage logo. This new rim text was first used in 1974 after a reorganization of Warner Brothers. The only other small change was the addition of an "R" in a circle beside the logo at the top to indicate that the orange Reprise ":r" logo was a registered trademark. 

Clouds, 1976 repressing

Post-1974 Reprise Records label with sausage logo.

My original 1969 copy is graded VG, while the repressings are both VG++. The original pressing has more surface noise, but the sound on all of them is great, with no significant differences in sound quality that I can hear. After the screw up with the sound on her first album, Joni produced Clouds herself with an assist from the great sound engineer Henry Lewy, who would go on to work on Joni's next 12 albums. Clouds has a wonderful natural tone and sounds excellent.

Here are the matrix numbers for my three copies:

-1969 original pressing:

Side 1: 30885 1S I
Side 2: 30886 1S I

Pressed by RCA Records, Indianapolis, IN

-1970 repressing:

Side 1: 30885 RS 6341 A RE1-1L (S) C17 1Ƨ
Side 2: 30885 RS 6341 B RE-1 1-C (S) F T1

Side 1 stamper was made for Columbia Records' Santa Maria, CA pressing plant, while the side 2 stamper was made for Columbia's plant in Terre Haute, IN. For some reason, one of the stampers was sent to the other plant.

-1976 repressing:

Side 1: RS-6341 30885 RE1 A2 P
Side 2: RS-6341 30886 C P

Pressed by Columbia Records, Pittman, NJ

Ladies of the Canyon, 1970

As I mentioned at the top, Joni's third album, Ladies of the Canyon has long been my favorite of her albums. (Although lately I've been leaning a little more toward The Hissing Of Summer Lawn.) But I have a confession to make. The first song on Ladies of the Canyon is "Morning Morgantown," which is rose-colored memory of the brief time that Joni spent studying in the city that houses the University of West Virginia back in 1966 or 67. From that song, I somehow got the idea that the "Canyon" in the title referred to the mountains of West Virginia, and that the whole album was a kind of reverie to Wild, Wonderful, West Virginia. I was an East Coast kid, so how was I to know that the West Hollywood suburb of Laurel Canyon had become the center of the musical universe in the late 60s? It was only many years later that I had a big "DUH" moment and realized the title referred to Laurel Canyon where Joni lived at the time with her boyfriend Graham Nash (inspiring Nash's song "Our House"), while hanging out and making music with neighbors Stephen Stills, David Crosby, Mama Cass, Peter Tork, Frank Zappa, Jackson Browne, Neil Young, Jim Morrison, Roger McGuinn, and many others. I feel a little sheepish every time I play the record.

I have two copies of Ladies Of The Canyon. The first is my 1970 original pressing on the pumpkin-colored Reprise label. The album also appeared on the two-toned Reprise / Warner Seven Arts label, but since it came out the year that Reprise changed their labels, it was available on both labels from the start. The matrixes are the same.

1970 original pressing

2009 Rhino Vinyl remastering

My second copy is the 2009 remastering by Chris Bellman which was issued by Rhino Vinyl. It was beautifully pressed by Record Technologies Incorporated in Camarillo, CA on 180-gram vinyl. My original 1970 pressing is VG++ (almost NM) and sounds excellent. But the 2009 remastering is a whole other level of amazing -- hyper-real, but not in a clinical way, in a "Holy crap, Joni is sitting right there" kind of way. The timbre of every plucked guitar string, the texture of Milt Holland's brushed drums, every subtle expression in Joni's voice comes through. It's a stunner. Listening to this new version recently got me thinking that Ladies Of The Canyon might still be my favorite Joni album after all. It's certainly my favorite jacket, with a wonderful self-portrait line drawing combined with a watercolor (or colored marker?) drawing of the Canyon. On the back are a row of colorful geese. Rhino's re-issue comes in a heavyweight replica gatefold jacket. The vinyl has the 1970 pumpkin-colored Reprise label.

-1970 original pressing:

Side 1: RS-6376 30992 C3 P
Side 2: RS-6376 30993 B3 P

Pressed by Columbia Records, Pittman, NJ

-2009 Rhino Vinyl remastering:

Side 1: R1-6376-A CB 18397.1(3)
Side 2: R1-6376-B CB 18397.2(3)

Remastered by Chris Bellman
Pressed by Record Technology Incorporated, Camarillo, CA

More to come.

Enjoy the music!

First Pressings, Label Variations, and Scribblings in the Dead Wax

Part of the fun of collecting LPs is learning more about the history of each album, including information about the musicians who played on the session, the name of the producer(s) and engineer(s), who cut the master, which company pressed the vinyl, and whether the album is an original pressing or a re-issue. More often than not, you can find basic information on the back of the album cover or on the dust sleeve. But in order to get the full story, you usually have to dig a little deeper.

The first thing I generally want to know is whether the album is a first pressing or a re-issue. Collectors will pay huge sums to get their hands on an original Lexington Ave. Blue Note or a Beatles first Parlophone pressing. (An original stereo copy of the Beatles' Please Please Me, in decent condition, will easily fetch $5,000.) These albums are often valuable because they didn't press many copies of the first edition. And most are so old that's it's very difficult to find a copy in top condition. Many collectors and audiophiles also believe that earlier pressings sound better, since they are closer to the original master tape. You can find plenty of discussion of these topics on the internet.

I'm not usually interested in having a first edition just for its own sake. I collect music, not albums. And given the prices that original pressings command, I'd much rather have 10 or 20 later pressings for the same price as one original copy. In the case of the Beatles, for the cost of one original Please Please Me, you could buy both the recent stereo and mono remastered box sets, and have enough money left over to fly to London and take a photo of yourself in the crosswalk at Abbey Road. 

Bop Till You Drop

I'm also not a stickler for analog-only LPs. There are vinyl collectors who refuse to purchase an LP if there was a digital conversion anywhere in the processing chain. If a digitally-sourced album is well mastered and well pressed, it still sounds better than the original digital source to my ears. That said, I have a number of digital albums from the late 70s and early 80s (when the labels proudly promoted the fact that their LPs were "Digital") that sound terrible. I remember buying Ry Cooder's Bop Till You Drop LP when it came out in 1979. It was the first digitally-recorded LP released by a major label. At first, I thought it sounded amazing. It had a clarity and sharpness that was very different from normal LPs. Very quickly, however, that sharpness became tinny and incredibly annoying. Digital has come a long way since then, and well-produced LPs from digital sources can sound fine. 

In order to find out whether you have a first pressing or later release, the first place to check is Discogs. Though it is crowd-sourced and has some errors, it is still the biggest and best on-line database of recorded music. When you search for your LP, Discogs will show a list of releases and re-releases by year. For popular albums, it's not unusual to find more than 100 different versions, including different formats, re-pressings, and international pressings. For our purposes - vinyl - the differences in the releases can be very minor, such as a different pressing plant. Or the changes can be major, including a different title, different art on the label or jacket, the addition of bonus tracks, or a remastered version.

Because of all the different releases, it is often difficult to tell exactly which pressing you have. Helpfully, most Discogs entries have photos of the jackets and labels, which can narrow things down considerably. Changes in label design are a pretty reliable way to date your album. For example, Warner Brothers used a green label with an orange and blue WB shield logo from about 1970-1973, and then switched to what's known as the "Burbank" or "palm tree" label from 1973-1978. Lots of popular albums by the Doobie Brothers and Grateful Dead (just to name a couple of bands) came out originally on the green label, and were repressed on the Burbank label. However, it's not always so simple. There are entire books written about the minute label changes for Blue Note Records. 

One of the best sources of information about label design is the blog 
LondonJazzCollector. They guy who runs the site has posted great guides that document the changes in label design over the decades for most of the important labels. (LJC is also a gold mine of information about jazz LPs in general. The forums feature contributions from people who are extremely knowledgeable and passionate about jazz recordings.) Still, even after you've identified your particular release, you'll often need to examine subtle changes to the label and check the information in the dead wax to find out more. 

Bell Sound Mastering Lab, New York.
The f at right indicates that the engineer
was Sam Feldman.

When I first began to look at the information in the dead wax at the end of the album sides, the stampings, symbols, initials, numbers, letters, and scratchings seemed like a foreign language. Or maybe better, a kind of code. After years spent trying to read and decipher these markings with a magnifying glass, I started to keep a list. I also scoured the internet for clues. Discogs has an active and lengthy list. There are also dozens of topics about deadwax notations on the Steve Hoffman forum. I copied every source I could find, added dozens that I was able to figure out by checking the album credits, corresponded with a few mastering engineers to ask questions (in my experience, they are extremely kind and willing to respond) and now have a list of deadwax abbreviations and symbols that is 18 pages long. Some of the stamps and markings show up fairly regularly and are easy to identify. Others are initials or little drawings inscribed as a signature by the mastering engineer who cut the lacquer or as identifying marks for the mastering house or pressing plant. Even with 18 pages of notes, I still find new markings all the time.

Allen Zentz Mastering
 Lacquer by Brian Gardner

Until recently at least, mastering engineers tended to work mostly in the background, cutting lacquers for LPs in quiet anonymity. These unsung heroes often carved their initials or other markings to indicate who was responsible for cutting the lacquer -- that is, transferring the sound from the tape (or digital file) by cutting the groove in a lacquer disk. (Which is not nearly as easy as it sounds. If you're interested in the process, there are some fascinating videos online about how LPs are produced.) And while the listening public was usually completely oblivious, producers and artists often insisted on using favorite mastering engineers who could make their music come alive. One of my favorite signatures are the bird wings used by Brian Gardner (above right.) Gardner, who worked at Alan Zent mastering (hence the AZ) also sometimes scribed a small flower instead of the bird wings. Chris Bellman, who remains active today and is one of the most sought-after mastering engineers in the business, uses a simple CB (below right). However, the tricky thing is that the markings are tiny, and if you didn't know that the initials below were CB, you might easily see a number of other different possibilites. 

Mastered by Chris Bellman

David Turner

Another one of my favorite signatures are the eyebrows used by David Turner (above, and not to be confused with Gardner's bird wings.) Many of the most active and well-known mastering engineers used their initials, and if you go through a stack of albums you're almost sure to find some with signatures by RKS - Ryan Smith; RL - Robert Ludwig; LH - Lee Hulko; KG - Kevin Grey; BK - Bill Kipper; GK - Gilbert Kong; GP or Porky - George Peckham; RJ - Ray Janos; or Wally - Wally Traugott. If you're really lucky, you might find a classic jazz album cut by RVG or the great Rudy Van Gelder. If you do, by the way, buy it!

Mastered by Robert Ludwig,
Pressed by Allied Records,
Hollywood, CA

Mastered by Ryan K. Smith
 at Sterling Sound, NYC

Artisan Mastering

Of course, there are lots of other squiggles in the deadwax besides the initials of the mastering engineers. Nearly all mastering houses and record pressing plants used markings to indicate who cut the lacquer and where the album was produced. Above, next to Robert Ludwig's initials, is the Q-shaped stamp used 

Specialty

by Allied Records, which pressed albums in Hollywood, CA. In the middle above is the very common stamp used by the mastering house Artisan Sound in California. There are a lot of different descriptions of what the symbol is, but the correct answer is a drafting compass on top of a record. The compass makes an "A" for Artisan. Further down below left is the U in a circle which is the mark used by United Record Pressing of Nashville, TN. And also further down you can see a triangle stamp with the letters IAM inside, which indicates that the album was pressed by Capitol Records at their Scranton, PA plant between 1963-1973. IAM stood for the International Association of Machinists, the union representing the workers at that particular plant. The big record producers like Columbia and Capitol had pressing plants in different parts of the country to facilitate distribution. If you live on the East Coast, as I do, the vast majority of LPs that you run across will have been pressed in Columbia's Pittman, NJ plant (indicated by a small stamped P which is often very faint and is usually on one side of the catalog number) or in their Terre Haute, IN plant (represented by a T on one side of the catalog number.) Most of the Capitol releases I find are from their Winchester, Virginia plant which used an etching that was meant  

Monarch Record

to look like a Winchester rifle like this:  ----<. In addition, there were dozens of independent record producers like Specialty Record Company in Olyphant, PA (a large S with a small R and C in the curves, above left) and Monarch Record Manufacturing Company in Los Angeles (an MR inside a circle at right) that pressed for nearly every label. And of course this barely scratches the surface (get it?) of the hundreds of different markings that appear on records. 

At this point you may well be thinking, who cares who mastered the album or where it was pressed? The answer is that knowing that an album was mastered by Robert Ludwig or pressed by Quality Record Pressing in Salinas, KS (for example) almost guarantees that the disk is going to sound great. So all things being equal, if you can snag a pressing by a well-known and respected engineer, that's half the battle. I'll sometimes buy an album that I'm not all that interested in or that I may already have a copy of if I see that it was mastered by one of the greats. If I'm going through the $1 bin and see a copy of Donald Fagen's The Nightfly mastered by Robert Ludwig or a Led Zeppelin IV mastered by George Piros (AT/GP in the deadwax), I'll buy it even though I already have five copies of both these albums.

Mastered by Rudy Van Gelder, Englewood Cliffs, NJ

Mastered by Wally Traugott

United Record Pressing,
Nashville, TN

Pressed by Capitol Records, Scranton, PA

Another interesting way to identify which plant pressed the record is to check the size of the pressing rings on the label. The pressing rings are the indentations made by the particular pressing machines when they flatten the vinyl disk and apply the label. Even if you can't find a letter or other identifier for a pressing plant, if you know that Specialty Record Company's pressing ring is 70mm, or that Monarch Record has double 35/72 mm rings, it can help you figure out by whom and where the LP was pressed. I've got a two-page list of pressing ring diameters that I consult regularly.

And finally, knowing how to decipher the deadwax information or gauge pressing rings will mark you as a knowledgeable collector, which is certain to impress your friends and your local record store dealer.

Enjoy the music!

Soundtracks - Used Record Stores Are Alive With The Sound of Music

Go into any thrift shop that has a pile of used records, and you are almost certain to find a copy of the soundtrack to either The Sound of Music, Camelot, or Godspell.  As I talked about in a previous blog about the Tijuana Brass, there's a reason for this: They sold millions and millions of these things.  In fact, The Sound of Music is listed as Billboard's #2 all time chart topping album, meaning it spent more time at #1 on the Billboard charts than any other album except for Adele's 21. And since about 99.9% of Adele's sales are either CDs or digital downloads, that makes The Sound of Music the #1 all time chart topping vinyl LP record. 

Note that "all time chart topping" isn't the same as "all time best selling." Dozens of pop albums and a number of other soundtracks, like Dirty Dancing, The Bodyguard, and Saturday Night Fever, all sold more copies than The Sound of Music, but none of them stayed at the top of the Billboard album charts for as long. According to Billboard's site: "The (Sound of Music) album -- led by the film’s star Julie Andrews -- earned a staggering 109 weeks in the top 10. The album was so hot it was in the weekly top 10 from May 1, 1965 through July 16, 1966. It was a regular (but not quite weekly) presence in the top 10 off and on through early 1968." All that to say that The Sound of Music soundtrack was one of the top selling albums for nearly three years straight. And talk about lasting appeal, The Sound of Music soundtrack has never been out of print since it was released in 1965. 

For some context, the album that The Sound of Music replaced at #1 on the charts was Bob Dylan's Bringing It All Back Home. The album that eventually replaced The Sound of Music at #1 was the soundtrack to Help! by the Beatles. I remember seeing The Sound of Music shortly after it came out in 1965. I also remember going to see Help! later that year. Talk about a culture clash. Yet they are still two of my all-time favorite movies. And Bringing It All Back Home is, of course, a stone cold classic album.

I have two near mint (NM) original stereo copies of The Sound of Music soundtrack. The first is one I picked up at an estate sale a couple of years ago. The second copy is one I found just a few months ago for a dollar at a thrift store. I am always amazed to find 50-year-old albums in mint condition. The copy I picked up recently was open but still in its original shrink wrap, and looks like it was never played. Or more likely, it was played once or twice and then put back on the shelf for the next 50 years. The original eight-page glossy booklet that was included also looks absolutely pristine. The booklet has photos from the movie and extensive notes on the production, the stars, and information about the composers, who were of course the great team of Rogers and Hammerstein. (Sadly, this was their last musical, as Hammerstein died of cancer in 1960.)


Another neat thing about old albums is the time capsule quality of the dust sleeves. The original Sound of Music dust sleeve has a full-color RCA promotional ad for their latest releases, including other soundtracks such as Fiddler on the Roof, Hello Dolly and the classic live recording of Belafonte at Carnegie Hall. My two copies of The Sound of Music have different sleeves, indicating that they were produced at slightly different times. Based on the release dates of the records being advertised, the first dust sleeve (at left) is likely an original 1965 release. The second copy (below) was likely a 1966 release since it contains a half-page ad for "RCA Stereo 8 Cartridge Tapes." Stereo 8 was the original name for the format that became known as eight-track tapes. RCA acquired the patent and was the first label to introduce eight-track tapes in 1966. Eight-tracks peaked in the early to mid 1970s, and were phased out by the early 1980s. I got my first car in 1974, but skipped the eight-track revolution for the then new and much cooler compact cassette tape that was just beginning to catch on. The great advantage to cassettes, of course, was that you could record your own.

I have about 100 soundtrack and original cast recordings in my LP collection. Nearly all of them are classic shows from the 1960s and 70s, including two copies of Camelot (also starring Julie Andrews) and four copies of Godspell (including one in French). I must say that I don't tend to play soundtracks all that much, since in most cases I'd rather watch the film. In addition to the two copies of The Sound of Music soundtrack, I also have an original 1959 mono copy of the Broadway cast recording starring Mary Martin. It was released by Columbia Records, and was in fact the first Columbia LP to be released in a gatefold sleeve. One exception to my not playing soundtracks is the Disney soundtrack for The Lion King, which featured music by Elton John and came out in 1994. However, it wasn't released on vinyl until 2014, when Disney put out a cool picture disk (below). Unfortunately, the sound of the vinyl is terrible (the CD is much better), but it's a very cool looking disk.

Hakuna matata and enjoy the music!

Mose Allison - Wild Man On The Loose

Wild Man On The Loose

NM/NM
Atlantic 1456
1966 Mono

Editor's Note: Sadly, Mose died on November 15, 2016, shortly after I posted this blog.

Last week I picked up a NM/NM mono copy of Mose Allison's terrific 1966 release "Wild Man On The Loose." The album is 50 years old, and both the vinyl and the jacket look like they were made yesterday. Wow! 

Mose is a national treasure who was born near Tippo, Mississippi in 1927. His birthday is November 11, so next week (as I write) he'll be 89 years old. When he retired in 2012, Mose had been performing and recording for 65 years. He released his first album in 1957. "Wild Man" came out in 1966 and was his 12th album in nine years! 

Growing up in the Mississippi Delta, Mose was steeped in the blues. And according to his official web site, he was also drawn toward jazz at an early age. "At five he discovered he could play the piano by ear and began "picking out" blues and boogie woogie tunes he heard on the local jukebox. In high school, he listened to the music of Louis Armstrong, Fats Waller, Duke Ellington, Louis Jordan, and his prime inspiration, "The Nat King Cole Trio."

Mose's piano style is best described as free form. He plays staccato trills and runs over a percussive left hand. His solos can stretch out from a few measures to a few minutes. He is playful, inventive, and nearly always unpredictable. But what really distinguishes Mose as a jazz musician is the fact that he is a terrific singer, and many of his songs have wry lyrics which Mose delivers in his distinctive, deadpan style. 

The title track "Wild Man On the Loose" is a good example. It begins:

Look out, stand back, wild man on the loose.
Been in the country for 30 days.
Saved up some money, got some hell to raise.
Soaking up that juice, wild man on the loose.

Look out, stand back, panther on the prowl.
Get yourself some coffee and a glass of water,
lock up your wife and hide your daughter.
Here's a man got to howl, panther on the prowl. 

"Wild Man On The Loose" was recorded at Atlantic Studios in New York in January of 1966. On the album, Mose is accompanied by drummer Paul Motian and bassist Earl May. The mono version was issued with the iconic red/white/purple "black fan" label you see above (used by Atlantic from 1962-66). The black fan label is so-called because of the Atlantic logo at center right that looks like an electric fan. The stereo version has the same design on a green/white/blue label.

The deadwax info is:

Side 1: A-12385-A LW AT W
Side 2: A-12386-A AT LW W

From the runout we can determine that the disk was mastered at the always solid Atlantic Studios in New York city (AT) and plated by Long Wear Stamper (LW) on Long Island.  There is no pressing plant indication in the deadwax or on the label (Atlantic didn't start adding the pressing plant suffix code to its matrix numbers until 1967).  However, given its 32/70mm pressing rings, the disk was almost certainly pressed at Presswell Records in Ancora, NJ.  The vinyl is flat and quiet, with a great "in the room" mono sound. [The "W" in the runout indicates that the blank lacquer used to cut the master was sourced from Audiodisc USA. "W" has nothing to do with Audiodisc, it was just the code used by Atlantic.]

I've got about 35 Mose Allison albums in my collection, and every one is a treat.  If you see any in the used bins, my professional advice is you should buy them.

Enjoy the music! (And RIP, Mose.)

Early Stereo Records

On a recent visit to a local thrift shop, I came across a bunch of early stereo records from the late 1950s, including a near mint copy of what is considered to be the very first commercially available stereo LP, released in March, 1958. The album is titled "Johnny Puleo and His Harmonica Gang," on the Audio Fidelity label, catalog number AFSD 5830.

You may not have heard of Audio Fidelity, but they were a major label in the 1950s and 60s, and played a seminal role in the early history of stereo records. The company was founded in New York City in 1954 by Sidney Frey, who had worked for a number of years in the record business. Frey promoted Audio Fidelity as being higher quality than other labels and sold his releases at a higher price than most other albums at the time. Audio Fidelity's output was enormous, with more than a thousand releases across all genres of music, from classical to Dixieland, pop and easy listening to jazz, as well as sound effects and traditional folk music. But more importantly for our story, Frey wanted Audio Fidelity to be the first label to release a stereo record. In November, 1957, he produced a limited edition stereo demonstration disk for distribution only to people in the record industry. The demonstration disk featured the Dukes of Dixieland on Side 1, and railroad and other sound effects on Side 2. Frey also arranged for a public demonstration of the disk in New York in December of 1957. After whetting the appetite of the music industry and the record-buying public, Audio Fidelity released the first commercial stereo LPs in March, 1958. The first four titles were Johnny Puleo and his Harmonica Gang (AFSD 5830), Railroad – Sounds of a Vanishing Era (AFSD 5843), Lionel – Lionel Hampton and his Orchestra (AFSD 5849) and Marching Along with the Dukes of Dixieland Volume 3 (AFSD 5851). 

The other major labels quickly jumped on the stereo bandwagon, and ABC/Paramount was next out of the gate with stereo releases in April, 1958. With stereo records now appearing in the stores, the  consumer electronics industry tooled up to produce stereo gear and began working to convince the record-buying public to update to new stereo sound systems. Many records from the late 50s and early 60s have ads on the dust jackets or back covers promoting stereo sound as well as new stereo turntables, speakers, amps, and consoles. 

Because stereo LPs were more expensive than mono records, (typically, stereo releases sold for a dollar more than mono releases) and because stereo gear was still very expensive, it would take eight years before stereo records began to outsell mono, and ten years before record companies stopped making mono records entirely. It's kind of tidy that in the U.S. mono and stereo LPs overlapped for almost exactly 10 years, from 1958 to 1968. And as a result, collectors will often pay top dollar for popular mono LPs from 1967 and 1968, since that was when mono albums were being phased out by all the labels. By way of historical context, The Beatles' White Album, which came out in November, 1968, was the last Beatles album released in both mono and stereo versions. However, the mono version was not released in the United States, only in the U.K. and a few other countries.

During the first few years of stereo, the record labels came up with a variety of marketing campaigns to promote the wonders of two-channel sound. Some early albums (like one of the original Audio Fidelity releases) featured sound effects like a train moving from one side of the room to the other. It sounds pretty lame today, but at the time must have seemed quite amazing to listeners. Nearly all the labels introduced new names and descriptions for their stereo releases. ABC/Paramount called their albums "Full Frequency Stereo." Columbia Records introduced "Stereo Fidelity" and "360 Sound" stereo. United Artists promised "Wall To Wall Stereo" on its new albums.

Most collectors will certainly be aware of RCA's fabled "Living Stereo" series of records. But RCA also produced a short-lived series of releases under the name "Stereo Action" which was advertised as "The Sound Your Eyes Can Follow." The description on the back of the jackets touted "A new dimension in recorded sound that brings you unmatched fidelity through the full sound spectrum, plus the exciting new illusion of sound in motion. Soloists and entire sections of the orchestra appear to move thrillingly back and forth across the room. Stereo Action is musical movement so real, your eyes will follow the sound." I have a couple of these releases in my collection. They were issued with very thick cardboard jackets that had die-cut front covers to reveal a colorful image from the dust sleeve beneath and create a kind of 3-D look. The backs of the dust sleeves have a lengthy essay describing the technical process of creating "Stereo Action" sound.

London/Decca Records introduced a new label called "Phase 4 Stereo" that promised to use "The most advanced and flexible of all stereo recording techniques."  With a "new custom built 20 channel console mixer," London promised that "the positions of any number of musical instruments, voices, sound effects, percussion or remote signals can each be fixed simultaneously in space with greater precision, definition and presence than possible before. Phase 4 stereo is the ultimate in sophisticated technology." The description was accompanied by an impressive illustration of 20 different signals being routed into the new controller. 

Another popular label created to market stereo (and which you may well have seen in the used records bins) was Command Records. Command Records was founded in 1959 by musician and conductor Enoch Light. He produced records with exaggerated stereo separation and glossy gatefold covers with futuristic, abstract designs to catch the eye. Among the most popular offerings were a series of "Persuasive Percussion" albums with drums moving back and forth to exaggerate the stereo effects. Light also recorded on 35mm magnetic track film as opposed to tape, adding to the reputation for quality in the early days of the label. 

The surprising thing about early stereo albums is how good they still sound today. While much of the music is schlocky - lots of easy listening, movie themes, and bongo drums -- the sound is often fantastic. These were, after all, all-analogue productions recorded by top studio musicians working with legendary producers and engineers all driven by owners and labels anxious to showcase the revolutionary sound of two-channel audio. There are only a handful of audiophile labels making records today that sound as good as these early stereo disks. Since you can find lots of copies of these old stereo albums for a dollar or less, often in very good condition, it's worth picking up a few to get a feel for the excitement surrounding the new technology and to gain a little insight into the history of the early days of stereo.

Enjoy the music!

Mr. Clarinet - Buddy DeFranco

On a recent trip to Montreal, I stopped to look around Burlington, VT for a few hours. Lucky for me, right off Church  St. -- a pedestrian shopping street downtown -- I found Burlington Records. It's a nice store with lots of well-arranged stock covering a wide variety of genres. Unfortunately, I didn't have much time, so did a quick flip through the recent arrivals, and then took a look at the jazz section. Although they have a good selection, I wasn't really finding anything until I came across a NM copy of an album by Terry Gibbs and Buddy DeFranco, called "Jazz Party - First Time Together."

You may be thinking: "Terry Who? Buddy Who?" I suspect that even some serious jazz fans might have a hard time identifying them. And I'll be honest, the only reason I'm familiar with Terry Gibbs is because I'm a big fan of Buddy DeFranco, and over the course of 20 years, from 1981 to 2001, the two of them made at least seven albums together.

"Jazz Party - First Time Together," is (duh) their first record. I didn't own a copy, so was very happy to pick it up for the very reasonable price of $8. The album is on the Palo Alto Jazz label, and captures live performances at Carmelo's in Sherman Oaks, California, on October 4-5, 1981. Gibbs is a fantastic and inventive vibes player. But I confess that I am primarily a fan of DeFranco, who was an incredible musician and probably the greatest jazz clarinetist of the modern era.

Born in 1923 in Camden, New Jersey, Boniface Ferdinand Leonard "Buddy" DeFranco grew up in south Philadelphia. He took up clarinet at age 9, and when he was 14, won a Tommy Dorsey swing contest. While still in his teens he began playing in local bands in the Philadelphia area, and in 1941 joined Gene Krupa's band. Throughout the 40s, DeFranco played with various swing bands, including Charlie Barnet, Ted Fiorito, and the Tommy Dorsey Band. Even though he began his career as a swing musician in the style of Benny Goodman and Artie Shaw, Buddy had heard Charlie Parker's historic recordings with the Jay McShan band and quickly fell under the spell of the new sound that would come to be called "bebop." DeFranco is quoted as saying that "It was Charlie Parker who completely turned me around. I decided to play the clarinet like Bird articulated on the sax."

In 1948, DeFranco relocated to New York City and was soon playing in the clubs on 52nd Street with nearly all the great jazz musicians of the era. In the early 50s, DeFranco spent a couple of years with the Count Basie Band and then branched off to lead his own touring band, employing such greats as Art Blakey, Sonny Clark, Bud Powell, Kenny Drew, and Tal Farlow.

Despite DeFranco's fantastic chops, which led to him being voted best jazz clarinetist 19 times in the annual Down Beat magazine poll, it was an uphill battle to make it as a bebop clarinetist. If it weren't already challenging enough, in the mid and late 1950s the great tidal wave of rock 'n' roll broke in the U.S., quickly replacing jazz in the clubs, on the radio, and in the record stores. As the popularity of jazz waned, DeFranco moved to Los Angeles and got work playing TV theme music and doing recording sessions, including two dates with Frank Sinatra. From 1966 to 1974, DeFranco led the Glen Miller Orchestra, touring constantly throughout the world. In the mid 70s, DeFranco actually gave up playing for a time, but soon was performing and recording again with various players in the U.S. and abroad.

In 1980, DeFranco and Terry Gibbs were booked to play dates at Ronnie Scott's jazz club in London. Each night after their individual sets, Gibbs would sit in on a number with DeFranco's band to close the evening. The response from the audience and UK jazz critics was terrific, and they soon found they had great musical chemistry. They went on to play together in a number of dates and to tour Europe in the summer of 1981. Noted San Francisco-based jazz writer Herbert Wong caught their act in the Netherlands. As luck would have it, Wong had just founded a new record label called Palo Alto Jazz, and he was looking for artists to record. After hearing Gibbs and DeFranco, he decided he had to get them on tape. In October, Gibbs and DeFranco were booked to play at the noted L.A. jazz club Carmelo's in the Los Angeles suburb of Sherman Oaks. Wong arranged to record the performances, which resulting in the album "Jazz Party - First Time Together."

DeFranco remained active almost until the time of his death in 2014 at the age of 91. His 70 plus year career spanned nearly the entire history of modern jazz in America. There is an excellent (and extensive) Down Beat interview that the magazine published in honor of DeFranco's 89th birthday, that discusses in great depth his career and musical influences. It makes for fascinating reading and is a mini history of jazz music.

Buddy DeFranco performs at the Consul General's residence in Milan,

Italy in December, 2002. At right is one of Italy's premier drummers, the

fabulous Tullio De Piscopo, and at left, on bass, is Luciano Milanese. The piano

 player (off camera at left) is Andrea Pozza. [Thanks to Mirko for the names!]

One last note. Back in 2002, when I was posted to Milan, Italy as a Foreign Service Officer for the State Department, I had a chance to bring over Buddy DeFranco as part of our cultural outreach efforts. Italy is mad for jazz and has produced some outstanding jazz musicians. I accompanied Buddy for three days of concerts, student master classes, and a private performance at the U.S. Consul General's residence. Buddy was already 78 years old at the time, but was full of energy and seemed to have a great time teaching and playing. I remember in particular the concert at the Consul General's residence. We had recruited an ace Italian rhythm section to accompany Buddy. They showed up on the night of the performance, not having rehearsed at all. They chatted a little as the guests were arriving, tossing song titles back and forth. When it came time for the show to start, Buddy turned to the band and said: "East of The Sun West of the Moon," and off they went. Buddy played with amazing vitality and virtuosity, and the band was locked in on him, It was an incredible evening.

Buddy DeFranco made dozens of albums during his career. However, he was ever a huge seller, which is why copies aren't all that common in the used record shops. But the good news is that since he isn't that well known, his albums don't command the lofty prices that original pressings of major stars do these days. If you do come across any of DeFranco's records, I'd urge you to pick them up.

Enjoy the music!