jazzcollector.com » Features

Pining (Again) For Record Store Days

Al — Thu, 17 May 2012 16:24:40 +0000

Here’s an article about another record store closing: Cutler’s record store in New Haven closing after 64 years in business. It’s not necessarily news anymore when a record store closes, but this seems to have been a pretty popular store. The real news would be a record store opening. Not much chance of that, is there? I’ve never been to Cutler’s in New Haven, but I’ve been to many record stores in my day, all around the U.S. and a bit in Europe as well. Of all the things I love about collecting, the think I miss the most is being able to go into a record store and going through the bins searching for that one record or two or even, hopefully, many more that are sitting there with great music, great covers and an affordable price. You know that feeling of rifling through the bins, record by record, passing all of the Herb Alperts and George Bensons and Al Jarreaus and, boom, there it is, an original Fats Navarro on Savoy or Stan Getz on Verve or, on the best days, a Jackie McLean or Lou Donaldson or anyone else on Blue Note. The business of collectible buying and selling has moved to eBay, with good reason (at least for the sellers), but it’s certainly not nearly as much fun. Is it?

European Vs. U.S. Pressings

Al — Wed, 21 Mar 2012 14:02:42 +0000

I recently picked up a batch of European — and South African — pressings of original jazz records from the ’50s and ’60s. Being American and a New Yorker at that, I’ve always had access to the U.S. pressings and, frankly, never had interest in the European pressings. I’m now listening to a Brubeck Columbia, CBS actually, with the heavy vinyl, red label, deep grooves. It has the soft cover and, now that I look at the cover, is actually from South Africa. There’s a note at the bottom: “Everyday is somebody’s biirthday. Give a national record gift token exchangeable anywhere in Southern Africa.” I just took off the Brubeck and am now listening to Ella Sings the Duke Ellington Songbook. All of this is leading to a point and some questions. For those who follow these things closely, is there a noticeable difference in sound quality between the American and European pressings?In listening to the Ella record now, the pressing, quite frankly, sucks. Really bad. The Brubeck was much better. How do you feel about the soft covers? And for those of you who were actually buying records in the era — Rudolf? Michel? — were you content to have the European pressings, or did you focus on the U.S. pressings? Just curious. Not sure what I’m going to do with these European pressings I now own. There’s something nice about having them, knowing they were issued at the same time as the U.S. versions, but I do have U.S. pressings of most of these. Oh,the challenges of being an obsessive collector. I hate to get rid of anything, even if I have it.

A Little Bird, A Little Philosophizing

Al — Wed, 22 Feb 2012 20:49:47 +0000

Glad to see there is still some collector interest in Charlie Parker. I had heard this theory, and once discussed it here, that there’s a window of about 50 years for interest in a performer/musician and after that period the people who actually could remember him are no longer around and the influence that he or she engendered, no matter how profound, would eventually fade or be forgotten in the afterglow of artists who succeeded them. This seemed particularly apt in the case of popular artists — a Bing Crosby or Fred Astaire, for example — but it also seems to have impacted the jazz world as well. You don’t get the sense that collectors and even aficionados today have the same esteem for, say, Duke Ellington or Count Basie or even Lester Young that collectors and aficionados had 20 years ago. I think about this a lot and wonder, not just about my collectible records (and their value), but about how history will treat earlier artists and whether their contributions will be remembered in the perspective of their era and the eras that came subsequent to their contributions. Artists like, say, Johnny Hodges or Art Tatum or even Dizzy Gillespie and Stan Getz (and no, I’m not just focusing on the Verve label, although those provide good examples). This came to mind because

I was keeping on eye on this record on eBay: Charlie Parker, Dial 202. It struck me that there are few of the Bird records that have the same cachet as collectibles, and perhaps even as music, as they did when I started getting into jazz 4o or so years ago. At that time, Bird was, well, Bird, and there was nobody more important. Finding an original Bird Savoy or an original Bird Mercury or Clef was a nice score. Not so much anymore. Anyway, this particular record, a 10-incher, has been bid up to more than $150, so somewhere there is still strong interest, which, to me, is a good thing.

Why Do We Collect?

Al — Tue, 03 Jan 2012 16:03:25 +0000

Why do we collect? I’ve been giving that a lot of thought lately, trying to figure out what to do with all of my stuff and trying to determine what is worth keeping – and why – and what isn’t. So along comes this interesting article from The New York Times on the very topic. The author, Philipp Blom, is a cultural historian, writer and journalist who lives in Vienna. Here’s the article below. Here’s a link as well, so you can see all of the comments on The New York Times site: Objects of Desire and Dreams

Why do we amass stuff we don’t need? Not all collecting is art collecting and no real collector would acquire things just as a status enhancement or investment. Real collectors are after something else. The objects in their collection are taken out of use, removed from circulation. The real value of a piece lies not in its auction price, but in the importance it has in the collection.

No true devotee would buy a T-shirt worn by Mick Jagger during a concert, chuck it in the washing machine and wear it. A Mick Jagger T-shirt is no longer a T-shirt, it’s a

connection to the world of Sex and Drugs and Rock ‘n Roll, a form of genius, a dream. Collected objects are like holy relics: conduits to another world. They have shed their original function and become totems, fetishes. Collecting by its very nature is animist and transcendental.

The objects and their organization bind us to something larger than ourselves, and as religion was born out of a fear of death and the wish of eternal life, collecting expresses the same fundamental urges. There are two corresponding impulses in collecting. One, epitomized by Casanova and Don Giovanni, show the erotic side of the object as fetish: the fury of conquest exhausting itself in the act (acquired objects are no longer as important as those still to be conquered) and living on only in Casanova’s Memoirs and Don Giovanni’s catalog of women, faded records of past glory.

The second, totemic impulse brings to mind a pharaoh’s tomb. Carefully arranged around the sarcophagus are representatives of the king’s possessions, of the wealth and the resources he needs to live on in the afterworld. Their presence is symbolic, but it assures survival. It is remarkable how many collectors chose to be immortalized through their collections, either by naming and donating them, by a continued presence as founder’s portrait or statue, or even as a wax work.

Like relics, collected objects are keys to another world and guarantors of immortality. That is why our urge to collect is impossible to ignore: it touches the very depths of who we are.

Rollins Receives Kennedy Center Honor

Al — Mon, 05 Dec 2011 22:05:06 +0000

The actual Kennedy Center Honors took place last night, the one in which Sonny Rollins received his long-overdue and much deserved recognition. In looking over various accounts of the festivities, it seems as if it was a lovely evening all around. Bill Cosby did the honors of introducing Sonny and I saw a clip on one of the sites where I recognized Jimmy Heath and Joe Lovano, among others, playing tribute. Sonny was asked why the evening was so special. “It’s very nice to be recognized here in our country, which is the birthplace of jazz,” he said. “It’s where we started jazz, and people love jazz all over the world. It’s a peaceful expression of the spirit, of love, of everything.” In the U.S. there will be a two-hour broadcast of the evening on Dec. 27 at 9 p.m. on CBS.

AP Video

Mingus on Mingus (on Mingus)

Al — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 22:30:58 +0000

We’ve been asked to help call attention to a proposed documentary on Charles Mingus and so we will. The filmmaker is Kevin Ellington Mingus and the documentary is called “Mingus on Mingus”. Kevin is Mingus’ grandson and the film will be about his journey to discover “the truth” about his famous grandfather. There’s a video explaining the project at the Website, Charles Mingus Documentary: Mingus on Mingus. I tried to embed it here at Jazz Collector, but my technical prowess was not up to it, so I recommend you go to the site and check it out. They are trying to raise money to fund the film, so if you are a Mingus fan and wish to see another documentary, please feel free. I have my own couple of Mingus stories to contribute. When I was a young journalist starting out I was assigned to interview Mingus, only he didn’t really want to be interviewed. I wrote the article and subsequently posted it at Jazz Collector. In case you missed it the first time, you can find it here, Memories of Mingus. Another story: I was talking to my cousin yesterday and he heard of the time Mingus was playing somewhere in LA and a woman was talking, and talking, and talking, and talking, and he kept looking at her but she kept talking, and talking, and talking, and talking. Finally, Mingus put down his bass, opened his case and pulled out a gun. The woman ran out of the club screaming with Mingus chasing her down the street, firing shots in the air. The great thing about the story, as surreal as it seems, is that there’s no one who knows anything about Mingus who would doubt that it happened, right?

Existential Thoughts About Non-Collectible Vinyl

Al — Wed, 26 Oct 2011 14:42:37 +0000

Had an interesting observation last night. I was going through the jazz auctions page by page, probably 30-40 pages covering about 1,500 records over a period of more than 24 hours. What struck me was the incredibly large numbers of listings of jazz vinyl that simply won’t sell. Page after page of records that probably don’t have a market at almost any price. And a lot of it was good music — Brubeck, Ellington, Errol Garner, Count Basie, Monk and many, many, many others. Try it yourself and you’ll see what I mean. One of the questions I have is this: Who are all these sellers and what do they think they are doing? It’s not a new thing that the demand for many non-collectible records is declining and, in many cases, the shipping fees are worth more than the records themselves. Still, hundreds of sellers are going through the process and expense of taking pictures, creating descriptions and posting listings on eBay for items that will not sell. How long can this continue? At what point, if ever, does eBay become a more exclusive haven for higher-end collectibles, at least in the jazz vinyl market? The other question to ponder, for someone like me, is this this:

What happens to the non-collectible records in the future? I have many more non-collectible records than collectible ones and, although I like a lot of the music, I have many more records than I desire to keep. But there is no market for them, at least if I want to sell them. Where do they go? Is all that music, and the covers and liner notes, is it all destined for the garbage bin some day? Is there no afterlife for this stuff?

A Young Jazz Singer Worth Checking Out

Al — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 12:03:15 +0000

I mentioned the play Central Avenue Breakdown the other day and what a pleasant surprise it was. If any of you goes to see it, let us know what you think with a comment on the site. I had another pleasant musical surprise a few weeks ago. I was up at the house in The Berkshires and noticed that there was to be a jazz concert in my community. It was billed as the West 73rd Quartet doing the music of Kurt Weill. I hadn’t heard of the group and, while I have nothing against the music of Kurt Weill, I’ve never had a special affinity for it, compared to, say, Rodgers and Hart, Gershwin, Jerome Kern or Irving Berlin. But it was nearby and it was jazz and it was an interesting setting. So I went. The group, West 73rd, was a piano, bass and drums with a vocalist. The vocalist was Hilary Gardner and she was terrific. She has a pretty voice and a great jazz feel, whether on ballads of up-tempo numbers. She also had a strong stage presence and did a nice job talking about some of the music and bringing it to life. She apparently gigs a lot in the New York area, so you should definitely check her out and see her if you can. The rest of the band was quite strong as well, Frank Ponzio on piano, Saadi Zain on bass, and Vito Lesczak on drums. The music was carefully thought out and arranged and it was quite inventive without taking away from the beauty of the melodies or the message of the lyrics. As for the Kurt Weill music, there were some of the obvious standards, such as Speak Low, done beautifully as a slow ballad, and September Song, a bit more up tempo than usual. There were also some nice numbers I was either unfamiliar with or barely familiar with, collaborations with Langston Hughes, Ogden Nash, Ira Gershwin and even Alan Jay Lerner. I picked up a copy of the CD: The Kurt Weill Project, A Song About Forever, and it’s quite good, although I have to say I did prefer the live performance. Anyway, if you have the opportunity to see this group, or to see Hilary Gardner in this or another setting, you should definitely check her out. She’s a jazz singer worth hearing, very musical, and hopefully we’ll hear a lot more from her and about her in the future. You can check her out yourself at her own Web site, hilarygardner.com, where there are plenty of nice clips, including some from The Kurt Weill Project and a really nice version of Gershwin’s Love Walked In.

Seeing Live Jazz: Bird With Strings (Really)

Al — Tue, 12 Apr 2011 14:34:35 +0000

Do you see a lot of live jazz anymore? I don’t. When people ask why, I kind of laugh it off and tell them that just about everyone I’d want to see is dead. Which, unfortunately, is pretty true, with a very few exceptions. I do still try to see Sonny Rollins whenever possible and perhaps a couple of others, but I no longer go to the Vanguard regularly or any of the other clubs in New York. Perhaps this will change when Mrs. JC and I make our long-awaited move to Manhattan, which is in the works (we hope). In any case, I bring this up because I did recently trek to Rose Hall in New York for the first time to attend a Jazz at Lincoln Center concert. The concert was billed as “Bird With Strings,” featuring Charles McPherson accompanied by a string section and playing the music from the original Charlie Parker Bird With Strings album. I like McPherson, a love Bird With Strings and I figured this would be a good opportunity to see some live jazz and check out the location. So how was it?

Overall, not bad. The concert wasn’t exactly as I expected. The first set there were no strings and only a little bit of McPherson. It was mostly a sextet under the direction of Vincent Gardner, a trombone player affiliated with the Jazz at Lincoln Center Orchestra. They played a set of bop tunes associated with Bird, although the sensibility was more post-bop than bop, which was fine by me. The highlight for me was the alto player Wess Anderson. McPherson joined for the end of the first set and he was in okay form, nothing great.

The second set brought out the string section, with a lot more McPherson and also some more Anderson. This set was definitely more interesting to me. What was most compelling was watching the alto players playing with the string section and how much they enjoyed the interaction – then thinking about Bird, back in the early 1950s, and how much he would have valued this kind of background as well: Where he was the featured soloist in a far more highbrow type of setting and all of the other musicians, classically trained, were there to support him. It was actually enlightening from that perspective, and the music was nice as well.

As for the venue . . . can’t really complain. The acoustics were fine, everyone could see from all seats. The prices were quite high – I paid more than $80 a seat and sat upstairs – and the hall was small enough as halls go, so it’s definitely a nice setting for jazz, although there was nothing in either the music or venue that made me feel like, “Oh yeah, I have to come back here.” Having said that, I’ll have no problem going back if there’s another concert that strikes my fancy.

Adventures In Jazz Collecting: The Score (Not)

Al — Mon, 06 Dec 2010 21:14:33 +0000

Mattyman tells the story of the Blue Mitchell record and the rude and competitive and somewhat nasty rival who bid the price up for no reason other than in the hope that Mattyman would put the record down and he would lay claim to it. Good for Mattyman to not fall for the bait and to go home with a great record at a reasonable price. We all have stories such as this. I have many of them, unfortunately. The one I recall most vividly is this, which I may have already told in another context but is worth repeating anyway: I was working my first record show back in the mid-1980s, when there were record shows often in the New York area. There were also many record stores as well, so it was quite a vibrant market. I had bought my friend’s collection and had duplicates for the first time and I was just trying to get rid of some records. I haven’t come very far since then, come to think of it.

Anyway, as happened once in a while those days, a guy came in with crates of rare records and had absolutely no idea of their value. No idea at all. New records were selling for $7.99 in stores, or something like that, so he figured used records must be $5 or so. So he priced all of his records at $5. This included Tina Brooks True Blue; Lee Morgan Candy; Hank Mobley’s Message, 1 and 2; and many, many others too numerous to name. The guy was at a table near me, and I would have pounced, but I never got the chance. As he was getting the records out of his car, two of the top New York dealers of the day accosted him, convinced him to show them the records and pulled out all of the valuables before they made their way into the room.

Because the guy’s table was near mine, I chatted with him a bit during the day and he confided two things to me. 1. He may have made a mistake in pricing the records so low. Perhaps he should have asked for $7 each instead of $5. 2. It was a good thing he only brought a few of his records because he had hundreds more at home he was hoping to sell. Upon hearing this revelation, my heart sank into my stomach and I pictured the big score of my lifetime. I acted quite calmly, of course. Really, I said. You have more records. You would like to sell them for $7 each. I might be interested. If you’re not doing anything tomorrow, how about if I come by your house. I don’t live too far away. Oh yes, do me one more favor: Don’t tell anyone else about this, just in case I would like to buy all of the records. I don’t think I slept at all that night in anticipation. I went to the bank early, took out $400 cash, which was all I could really afford at the time, and headed to the guy’s house so I would be there at 7:30 a.m. He had told me to come at 9 a.m., but I wasn’t taking any chances.

So I got there, and I had $4,000 in my pocket, and I rang the doorbell at 7:30 and the guy answered the door and he said come in and there in the living room was one of the NY dealers rifling through the guys shelves as if he had springs in his fingers: Pulling out records, dropping them on the floor, pulling out more records and creating a pile of Blue Notes and Prestiges and Riversides and Emarcy’s the likes of which I had never seen. The guy introduced me to the dealer, who was about as pleased to see me as I was pleased to see him, and I started going through any area of shelf that looked like it hadn’t been pored through. There were still plenty of nice records on the shelves and at $7 apiece I was still ready for a score. I must have had 60 records in my pile and the other dealer must have had 200 records but still he looked at my pile with envy and clearly wanted what he had and what I had.

I pulled out my $400 and started to settle with the guy when the dealer opened up his mouth. “You should be charging $20 a record,” he said. “That’s what I’ll pay you for all of the records. $20 each.” I had 60 records. At $20 apiece I was looking at $1,200, which I didn’t have, either in my pocket or in my bank account. The dealer pulled out a roll of cash. The guy selling the records was clearly startled. “Twenty dollars apiece,” he said. “That sounds about right.” I looked at the dealer with contempt and did what I had to do, which was choose the 20 records I really wanted. I think I negotiated with the guy to give me five extra records for my $400. As I was leaving, there were three other dealers pulling up into the guy’s driveway. At least, I had been smart enough to get there early and walk away with some nice records. Among the ones I recall: Clifford Brown and Max Roach at Basin Street; Mating Call, Tadd Dameron and John Coltrane; Soultrane; the Eddie Costa record with Bill Evans doing Guys and Dolls; a couple of Blakeys on Blue Note. Not bad for $20 apiece in near mint condition. I should have been happy, but instead I was kicking myself for not getting there earlier and for not having more money. I think I learned some lessons from this experience, but I’ll have to think hard to figure out what they were. I think the lasting lesson, and the one still applicable today: If you want the really good records, you better have some cold hard cash.