Day Three (Not) At The WFMU Record Fair

So, after more than an hour of live rock music blasting in my ears, I decided to bag it at the WFMU Record Fair after Saturday, so I packed my records, loaded them in my Prius and drove them home. But what was I to do with them next? There were a dozen boxes of records, probably 700 altogether, plus another 500 or 600 records already in the house or in storage that are to be sold. I’ve bought three collections in the past year, and I have at least that many duplicates or reissues or records I simply don’t want. Previously, I’ve been selling records on eBay, but my real work has gotten quite busy and I’m not doing that anymore, so it seemed I was facing the prospect of just putting all of these records in storage and waiting another year for the next WFMU Record Fair so I could sell 100 of them while getting bombarded with close range music of mass destruction.

It is at times like this when I wish I had a record store.

Then, on Sunday morning at 6 a.m., on what would have been Day Three of the WFMU Record Fair, I woke up startled with a clear revelation. I would

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Day Two At the WFMU Record Fair

I mentioned that my table was towards the back at the WFMU Record Fair this weekend. There were some clear disadvantages to this location. For one, the front of the room was mobbed and there was a lot of jazz at almost every table, so by the time people made it to my side of the room – if, indeed, they did make it at all – they were pretty jazzed out, and perhaps even all spent out with no more cash in their wallets. The second disadvantage to my location was the unfortunate reality that it was close to where the WFMU people had set up their live broadcast, which meant there was loud music and gab incessantly in my ears from 10 in the morning through the day. All of which was pretty bad.

And then it got worse.

Sometime in the later afternoon, perhaps 3 p.m. or so, they decided to have live music: Yes a rock band, followed by another rock band, each one trying to out-noise the other. Or so it seemed to these delicate, jazz-oriented ears. Loud doesn’t begin to describe what it was like at my table. The Read more

Day One At the WFMU Record Fair

So yesterday was Day One of the WFMU Record Fair in New York City and I purchased a dealer table to sell of duplicates from my collection and other odds and ends and this was my experience.

There was a time, when I was an compulsive buyer of records – as opposed to now, when I am merely an obsessive buyer of records – when I would purchase a dealer’s table at a record show just so that I could show up early and look at the other dealers’ records before anyone else. I’d get there and hover while dealers of jazz records would be unpacking their wares and I could get first shot at their offerings. Don’t laugh – I got some mighty nice records this way.

Now, however, I am more serene about it. I didn’t get there yesterday until 3:30 and the show opened at four to early arrivals so I barely had time to even look. In fact, I convinced myself that the only reason I was looking at all was so that I could write about it here at Jazz Collector. I even made certain that I would not be buying either compulsively or obsessively or both: I only brought $100.

So at 3:30 I began roaming the floor with my $100. What struck me was that just about every table had jazz records: Some a box or two, some had many, many boxes. And it was a lot of the stuff

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Bill Evans, 30 Years Later

I was driving up to my home in The Berkshires for one of the last times this season on Friday and I had some music on the CD player and on came Waltz for Debby, the version with Cannonball Adderley and Bill Evans on Riverside. And I turned to the lovely Mrs. JC and told her to listen to the rapport and warmth shared between these two giants and it was remarkable listening to this track, which I must have heard thousands of times — no exaggeration — with fresh ears once again. And it is, indeed, a thing of beauty. Then I looked through my email this morning, clearing things out, and I noticed that someone had sent me an article from The Wall Street Journal paying tribute to Bill Evans on the occasion of the

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Why We Buy Records

My friend sent me this earlier. It’s pretty apt: Although I don’t necessarily feel low, I was working on records at 3 o’clock this morning, trying to get the smell of mildew out of some of the beautiful boxed-set 78s I purchased last week and lugged home and am now trying to wedge into my collection somehow by shifting records from one shelf to another and getting records off shelves that I may not be listening to. Anyway, thought you all might appreciate this from Peanuts.

An Old-Fashioned Jazz Vinyl Auction

Remember I had written about my late friend Red Carraro a couple of months ago and how he would compile these long lists of records and send them out for auction all over the world in the days before eBay. Red was among a number of practitioners of this art, which also included Leon Leavitt and Fred Cohen among many others (at least that’s how I recall it). I had thought that eBay had obviated the need for these mailed lists, but apparently I was wrong: The other day I received an email addressed from the intriguing name of Mr. Blue Note with an auction list of 1,460 records that apparently are up for auction but not for auction on eBay. I’m sure Mr. Blue Note will not object to me posting the list here, so

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Another Day, Another Jazz Vinyl Collection

I brought home another collection yesterday. It is an interesting one. It is mostly traditional jazz, but of more recent vintage. There was the full three-volume Mosaic Commodore set in near mint condition. That alone will cover my costs and the time and energy I expended. There were also a lot of 78s, mostly albums in beautiful condition – Louis Armstrong, Fats Waller, Lee Wiley, and others of that ilk, no bebop at all. There were also some nice 10-inch LPs in near mint condition, including a beautiful Lester Young on Clef and several of the Chet Baker’s on Pacific Jazz.

As I was laboriously going through the records on my porch in The Berkshires yesterday, much to the consternation of the lovely Mrs. JC, I discovered that there were about a dozen 12-inch Blue Note 78s – Sidney Bechet, Albert Ammons, etc. These are in

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What Happened To The Jazz Vinyl Countdown?

In an earlier post, Rudolf poses the following statement and question: “Al announced the slimming down of his collection a while ago. But I don’t see anything else but buying records by the lot, ‘improving’ on quality, etc., etc. Al: I just would like an honest reply to my straightforward question (the lovely Mrs. JC is not tuned in, so your reply can be honest). The question: With how many albums has your collection grown since your slimming down action?”

Ahem.

I will answer the question directly and then go into some level of explanation. Since the launch of what I affectionately called The Great Jazz Vinyl Countdown almost exactly a year ago – September 29, 2009, if anyone would like to go back to the archives – I would say that my “collection” has increased by about 50 records, while the number of records in my house has grown by several hundred, at least.

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This Week — Live At The Monterey General Store

I play a little bit of jazz guitar — very little bit — but I am fortunate to have grown up with a fantastic, world-class jazz guitarist and we have remained great friends and this weekend we are doing a gig here in the beautiful Berkshire Mountains of Western Massachusetts. There are many stories I can tell about the circumstances that have led to this gig, 30-plus years in the making, but I will be brief. My friend, Dan Axelrod, was a musical prodigy from early childhood and he lived down the street from me and somehow we both fell in love with jazz as teenagers – Dan because he could play it as well as anyone and I because it was music that was always around, in my pores, courtesy of my dad. Dan and I used to hang around a lot and at various points he would teach me chords and how to strum and eventually I was proficient enough to accompany him as a rhythm guitarist, as long as we kept the changes relatively simple and dispatched with the suspended flatted fifths, ninths and thirteenths. What I lacked in ability I made up for in chutzpah and eventually I found us a gig at a local place called the Rainy Nighthouse and I somehow convinced Dan that this would be a fun thing to do, two nights a week. We were still in our late teens. Dan, if I recall properly, was studying with Billy Bauer and perhaps a little with Jim Hall and had not yet met his guitar hero, Tal Farlow, who would eventually become his great friend and mentor. Read more

Guest Column: Collecting Jazz 45s

A couple of weeks ago friend of Jazz Collector Erich Schultz asked why we never wrote about  collecting jazz 45s here at Jazz Collector. We said that we didn’t collect them ourselves, we didn’t know of any collectors and no one had ever even asked. We also invited him to write a post on the joys of collecting jazz 45s and, voila, here it is. Erich, it’s all yours:

Collecting Jazz 45 RPM Records, by Erich Schultz

Although I have a large library of jazz 10” and 12” 33 RPM records, I also have over 1,000 jazz 45 RPM records as well. I starting collecting these 45’s about five years ago, and I have picked up most of them in the Los Angeles area when I visit my two children (I live in the San Francisco Bay Area.) I also get them sometimes through bulk sales on ebay. My reasons for collecting them include: Read more

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