Of course. The same invitation is open to anyone. Stuart reminded me that it is almost 10 years to the day since we published an earlier article – Adventures in Jazz Collecting, Tokyo Style. Couldn’t help but notice that there were 54 comments on that article. Bravo to Stuart and all of the commenters. Ah, the good old days.

Anyway, the article arrived the other day, along with the title Stuart suggested title, so, without further ado, may we present:

The Records (But Not the Music) Are Over

By Stuart Levine

Well, I did it. I sold my jazz record collection. Now approaching 70, I’m trying to downsize and just not finding the opportunity to listen to my LPs. You see, for years I’ve been living in Japan with my wife and two daughters, while all this time storing my records and audio equipment back on the West Coast. The irony is that I’m in the land (or rather, on the island) whose people love our American art form of Jazz, yet I, myself, can’t listen to my own records. I don’t want to bore anyone with details as to why not, but suffice it to say that living quarters are tight there and sound travels easily.

I’ll miss visiting the record stores – the crate digging and conversations with fellow vinyl enthusiasts. It had all started during my college days with CTI and fusion. But later, I discovered Hard Bop and “watch out” – I was hooked! Good thing I started making some decent money because as you know, those Blue Notes are expensive. So gone are roughly 400 LPs; however, I did keep a few. They are Somethin’ Else, Maiden Voyage and Kind of Blue.  All are first pressings. My copy of Kind of Blue is very early.  Just couldn’t part with these three.

As far as sales went, I did pretty well with my treasured vinyl. A VG++ Cool Struttin’ came in at a cool $4,283. A near mint Wahoo did a whopping $1,725 and even a VG+ Juju sold for $900, netting me $630. Yep, further evidence of Blue Notes’ cachet. On the other hand, Impulse didn’t do so well. My pristine mono copy of Blues and the Abstract Truth disappointed at 75 bucks. Gosh, darn it … wish I could have that one back as well as other gems in my collection such as Saxophone Colossus and A Love Supreme. Oh, stop it, Stuart! You’re done! There are always cds.

But before I close, I’d like to give shout outs to Charles Pearlman of Strictly Headies and Jason Perlmutter of Carolina Soul (thanks to Al for recommending Jason). They did such a professional job of listing my records on their eBay sites. With Charlie, who sold most of my jazz records, I got to visit Portland, Oregon, enjoying the greenery I don’t get in the Las Vegas desert where my parents live. And for the first time, I flew to Durham, North Carolina to meet Jason with a few jazz LPs and a good number of rock records. So, thanks guys … you represented my collection well, and I’m sure my records are spinning right now on worthy turntables. As for me, I think I’ll give a listen to “Stolen Moments” from my laptop computer.

By Stuart Levine

I recently attended a big jazz vinyl record sale held by “Jazz Tokyo,” the flagship store of Japan’s Disk Union retail chain. They do this twice a year during Golden Week, a holiday in Japan, and again at the end of the year. The store had accumulated hundreds of used Blue Notes, putting many on the wall but most in the racks. Gems were at hand and serious crate digging commenced upon the store opening at 11:00 am. My friend, Charles Pearlman, who is the eBay seller known as “Strictly Headies,” flew out from Portland, Oregon. Together, we dug and came away with some impressive titles, two of which were Mobley 1568 and 1550. As for the condition, I’d say 1568 VG+/VG+ and 1550 NM-/NM-

I do believe luck played a part in our successful day there at Jazz Tokyo. You see, I had carried with me a paper fortune earlier acquired from a visit to a Shinto shrine in the neighborhood where I live in Japan. As Charlie and I waited among many others outside the store for it to open, we received random numbers, giving us our positions in line. I got #8 and he #15. Well, since he had traveled such a long distance, I just had to give him my lower number, right? Suffice to say, his favorable position and digging prowess got him the two Mobleys.

But I would be remiss not to mention a box of records Charlie bought on another day from a private collector. There was a pristine stereo Waltz for Debby, Saxophone Colossus with a turquoise-tinted cover (first?) and Jackie McLean’s the New Tradition on Ad Lib. You know the one – with that gorgeous cover.  And clean! Charlie says, “It plays quiet as a mouse pissin’ on cotton.” Damn if they don’t have the records in Japan.

I moved to Portland, Oregon a week ago and have spent every day but one (Record Store Day; I don’t like crowds) hitting the local record shops. The first one was Jackpot Records, where I had anything but good luck. You see, there was a pristine copy of “My Favorite Things,” but it was on hold for another customer. That led me up the street to Exiled Records and things began to improve. I found an original 1971 Marvin Gaye “What’s Going On.” That’s no easy feat, considering the fact that Rolling Stone had named it the top album of all time. Oh, and it’s VG (not a beater) and plays through.

Next was Music Millennium, which had just bought a small collection of Blue Notes from a private collector. There, I found a nice mono first pressing of Donald Byrd’s “Free Form.” It certainly didn’t come cheap but not outrageous either. That leads me to my last record store and the ultimate thrill ride.

In the very pleasing (antiques shops, cafes) and walkable neighborhood of Sellwood, I met Scott, who is an architect and owner of Dig Vinyl. While digging in his store, I came across a used copy of a George Wallington record. But of course, it wasn’t the one I really wanted and have never seen in the wild. That would be “The New York Scene.” Ok, I’ll cut to the chase.

Turns out, a fellow in Scott’s store has an original VG++.  His name is Charlie, an eBay seller, who goes by the name of strictlyheadies.  Take a look at Al’s posting of “Hot and Heavy” on April 18^th. You’ll see “Overseas” sold at $2,666.89.  That was Charlie’s sell.  Well back to my obsession with “The New York Scene.”  At a handsome price, Charlie agreed to sell me his copy the very next day.  So, I met him again at Dig Vinyl, made the transaction and left the store with a most elusive grail.  Now I just had to get the record home without getting it wet.  This is no easy task when you’re traveling by bus on a rainy day in Portland.  It did rain, but I managed to keep the record under my umbrella while walking, stood for cover at a bus stop and got home with a heavy hitter and newest acquisition to my vinyl collection.

Al:

My jazz collecting the past 25 years has morphed mainly to jazz autographs. There is something about a genuine signature that makes an item come alive: This was actually in the hands of Billie, Bird, Trane, etc. One must be careful to not obtain a fake, but I have mainly dealt with reputable dealers, and over time, I have become more savvy in finds on sites such as eBay.

I did bid on this Coltrane item, but exited the bidding when it went above $2000.

The prizes of my collection are signed photographs, some contracts, some personal letters, etc. To give you an idea of some of my prized items, here is a partial list:

Jelly Roll Morton (very hard to find – I have 2, one of which is sheet music)

Bix Beiderbecke

James P Johnson (photo)

Charlie Christian

Fats Navarro (photo)

Clifford Brown (photo, Study in Brown album)

Booker Little

Serge Chaloff

Charlie Parker (2 photos, a note to Chan, a contract, a signature by his entire quartet)

Lester Young (2 photos, one 78 RPM record)

Coleman Hawkins (multiple photos, cancelled check)

Django Reinhardt (photo, concert program)

Wes Montgomery (photo)

Thelonious Monk (photo, concert program)

John Coltrane

Bud Powell

Bill Evans (photo, high school yearbook)

Billie Holiday (photo, 2 separate contracts regarding the rights to her autobiography, one signed Eleanora Fagan, copy of Lady Sings the Blues)

Lee Morgan (beautiful signed photo, paper with all 5 members of Blakey group, contract for club engagement)

Wardell Gray (10″ LP)

Bennie Moten (78 rpm)

Chet Baker (photo)

Charles Mingus (Mingus at Monterey album, photo)

Ma Rainey (royalty agreement)

Like all financial transactions, especially collecting, the price is determined by supply and demand. Some iconic figures are in high supply (Louis, Duke, Ella), but their iconic status keeps their value to at least a modest level. Iconic figures that died young (Bix, Bird, Trane, Billie) command very high prices. Then there are figures that died young that are only known to the ever-shrinking jazz market rather than the general public (Clifford, Lee Morgan, Wardell Gray, Christian, Fats Navarro). Their items are very rare, but prices aren’t at the level of the Bird, Trane items, possibly for this reason. Some more obscure figures command even less interest (Allen Eager, Wade Legge, Joe Albany, Freddie Webster).

The “what” factor values a photo, letter, or official document over a scrap of paper, napkin, etc. Until recently, a signed record album was not as valuable. However, this has changed lately, as evidenced by the recent Coltrane auction. I have seen some signed Miles Davis albums go higher than I would expect recently.

The one “signature” in my collection that turns out to be a fake is Art Tatum. There was a signed contract for chattel mortgage for a Plymouth automobile. The item came from Arline Tatum, Art’s sister. The address on the contract was his home in Toledo (I have been by the home). The signature was somewhat messy, and signed Arthur Tatum. I couldn’t let this slip by my hands, but have been suspicious. Over the years, with the help of databases on ancestry.com, I have seen a signature of Art Tatum, Sr., Art’s Father, on a marriage license, and WWI draft card, which matches the signature on my item. Further research of multiple contracts, a personal check, and Art Tatum, Jr.’s marriage license are all marked with an X. Oh well………………

Someone like you would understand the thrill of the hunt for items such as these. After a while, one becomes more selective and discerning, and don’t feel bad letting an item get away when the price is too high.

Bill

By the way, I enjoy your website.

My reply:

Fantastic. Do you mind if I post your reply on he site, preferably with your name?

I don’t go out of my way to collect autographs or other ephemera, but I am happy when I come across them. Among my most prized possessions is an copy of Sonny and Hawk, with the following signed by Sonny:

“12/13/63. To my friend at ‘A+ P’ with Holiday wishes to you & yours Sincerely Sonny R.”

A & P was a local supermarket chain. I also have an original 78 of Moody’s Mood For Love, signed by James Moody and am original Birdland program signed by Stan Getz.  — al

Subject: Sonny Rollins in Holland, 1967

Hello Al,

Hope you are safe and sound. Just thought you would find this interesting. In 1967 Sonny Rollins played for one week in Holland, doing different gigs and a radio show. He played with the Dutch players Ruud Jacobs (29 at the time) on bass and Han Bennink (25 at the time) on drums. He didn’t like a piano added. Last year they found the tapes and now they are issued on CD in a co-production of Resonance Records & the Dutch Jazz Archive. Great, because I think he almost recorded no records between 1966 and 1972. There is a nice article today in the Dutch newspaper de Volkskrant. I attached some photos. Of course it is in Dutch, so I will translate some interesting points.

Sonny Rollins has listened to the tapes last year and thought also that it must be brought out on CD. “I remember I was in holland in May 1967 and had a great week with Ruud and Han. But I didn’t know we played THAT good. The sound of Ruud’s base was so beautiful and the energy of Han’s drumming was merciless. When I listened back to the tapes, I instantly thought: This must be heard.”

There were great reviews at the time in the media about the concerts, especially the one in Arnhem on the 3rd of May 1967 at the Art Academy (most concerts where in very small venues as jazz in 1967 was getting less attention versus the up and coming rock music. Other jazz musicians have been circulating cassette tapes of the concert, of very poor quality, copied over and over again by jazz colleagues. They played in Loosdrecht (also TV show), Arnhem and Utrecht. The photos in the article are from those concerts. This is the website of the Dutch Jazz Archive (they reissue lots of concerts of the jazz greats, played in Holland in the 50’s and 60’s and have a nice photo-archive).

https://www.jazzarchief.nl/product-categorie/jazz-at-the-concertgebouw/

Ruud Jacobs was one of the great Dutch jazz bassist in Holland who played with many people in the late ‘50s and ‘60s (Johnny Griffin, Bud Shank, Kenny Clarke, Stan Getz). The brother of pianist Pim Jacobs. Han Bennink is still alive. He also played with the greats, and became a more experimental drummer, together with the Instant Composers Pool, the Willem Breuker Collective, Eric Dolphy, Don Cherry, etc. He played loud and merciless; he uses everything he can drum on. During  the concerts with Rollins he states: “When Sonny ‘gave’ me a solo, I would go out of rhythm and played for example on a flowerpot.”   (hahaha)

I could imagine that Rudolph would have visited one of the concerts maybe, as he listened to so many in the Netherlands during the 50’s and 60’s??

All the best Al from Amsterdam. Always thankful for the Jazzcollector!

sorry for my grammar

Note from Al: Pictures are below the post. Next is the other email from Maarten.

Subject: Still Alive

Every time I read an obituary in the newspaper or on Jazz Collector…I always think: What? This person was still alive?… While I have records from the fifties where he /she plays on it. And then I want to write something nice about them. But I think; it’s too late. Why not honor somebody when they are still alive. So many jazz artist are still amongst us. I think it could be a very nice post on Jazz Collector. First of all, we will start thinking of those who are still there and gave us this great music. But also it could be inspiring to listen to them while still alive. Everybody will come up with an artist that maybe nobody thought they are still there…and we would start listening to them… while they are still alive.

Joanne Brackeen, born 1938… made some great records  still alive

Herbie Hancock..  albums with Mobley, Byrd, etc … still alive

Benny Golson 1929!! still alive

Curtis Fuller 1934!! still alive

Ron Carter 1937!! still alive

And of course Rollins. Lets not weep when they are dead… but celebrate them now.

Ok. I am getting a bit over excited. Of course you don’t have to address this in Jazz Collector.   ?  Iam just drinking some beers while listening to jazzzzzz

Wish you all the best

Regards

Maarten Kools

Amsterdam

the Netherlands

By Steven Frost

After our rest in the mountains of Hakone I was excited to explore metropolitan Tokyo. When we arrived in Shibuya and got settled in I merely Google-mapped Disk Union and assumed following the search results would lead me to the correct destination. Along the way I came across the jazz bar Dug, a name I knew from separate recordings by Albert Manglesdorff and Mal Waldron. Unfortunately it was Dug in name only, with drinks and a cover charge, but no live music. A few blocks passed Dug, unlike so many of my other searches in Japan, I actually found the store on the first try, located in the heart of Shibuya with no trouble at all. Disk Union Shibuya is a multi- story affair with each floor dedicated to a different genre of music. The stairwell leading to F4, jazz and blues, certainly filled me with a sense of expectation.

Disk Union Shibuya was compact, but brimming with some great albums and surprises. It was also really crowded. All of us know the feeling of waiting for another person to flip through a row of albums while we wait, and that of someone waiting for us to do the same. Perhaps its nicer to have a store to ourselves without other customers? I think for the health of our hobby and the general health of human civilization more people listening to music is a positive thing. Once again Disk Union came through with a great selection, a friendly staff and a clean, well-organized store. They also have a nice listening station where you can preview records, or listen to vintage LP’s to make sure they are not damaged. The collectible wall had some nice items too. If you look closely at the photos you’ll see the price tag- description includes the artist name, label, grade, description (flat edge, laminated cover, RVG, ear, deep groove, etc.) and an explanation of any faults. All these LP’s are graded B/B+, and would make most collectors I know feel very happy. You can see the prices as well to get a sense of the Japanese market. 10000 yen is approximately 92 USD.

When I finished my exploration of the 4^thfloor, made a few purchases and went back downstairs I discovered a second jazz new arrivals bin (two jazz new arrivals bins, have I reached nirvana?) with some interesting items. I must havewalked out of Shibuya with 10 or so LP’s. I potentially could have bought more if not for the logistical constraints of lugging records around the world.

One LP I found really intrigued me and I thought some JC readers might find interesting. It is a copy of Blue Mitchell, Out of the Blue, with a European flipback cover. The Japanese license came not from Riverside, but from Fontana. This is something I had not seen before. I recollect I paid about seven bucks for it. It sounds quite good too with the nice reverb and high frequency extension I associate with early pressings that often seems to be missing from later reissues. Some of the early Riverside titles in stereo sound disappointing, but this one is quite nice.

As I was wrapping up my visit to Disk Union Shibuya I realized that I was actually still not at THE Disk Union Jazz store, but merely another fantastic branch of this chain. So it was back to Google maps and another adventure. I made my pilgrimage to Disk Union Jazz in a light rain the next day. The neighborhood was a really peaceful one and I passed Disk Union Heavy Metal (presumably not very quiet) along my journey. The street block Disk Union Jazz is on is nearly all musical instrument stores. Disk Union Jazz is on the second floor, but has a well-marked entrance at street level.

The store has a wide selection of new and used books, magazines, new and used LP’s, and CD’s. I noticed they had the new Blue Note Review box for sale with a personally signed postcard from Don Was. I started with the new arrivals and went through the ordinary stacks (which like many other stores felt well perused), before bracing myself to look at the collectors’ items. I found a really beautiful original pressing of Teo Macero with the Prestige Jazz Quartet (I’m a big Mal Waldron and Teddy Charles fan), an original pressing of Bob Cooper’s Coop! on Contemporary and an original Swedish pressing of So Far by The Eje Thelin Quintet with a nice flipback cover. The Thelin was interesting because Disk Union actually had two copies. The more expensive and higher graded Thelin actually sounded terrible, like it had been played with a trashed needle, whereas the lower graded copy with a few light hairlines played beautifully. I felt very lucky with this discovery.

Disk Union had so many great, rare and obscure records in beautiful condition I can’t name them all. Notably, there is a high proportion of jazz from all over Europe as well as the States. Here are a couple of photos to give you a sense of what a special place it is.

There are certainly a number of other great Tokyo record stores, but my time was limited and I also wanted to enjoy all the other things unique to this amazing country. With regard to records, I learned that the Japanese seem to be conservative record graders and take really good care of their belongings. CD’s are still everywhere and a number of people seemed to be buying them. I understand the temptation to moan that so many great records are in Japan instead of their countries of origin, but this is a result of Japanese music lovers having a generally higher level of appreciation and connoisseurship for these things than the people inhabiting the places where the items originally came from. Sometimes having a degree of separation gives you a greater level of appreciation for it. I imagine a lot of the inventory in Japan’s record stores probably reached Japan some time ago and is being recirculated as individuals sell off collections or older people pass away. That said, I ran into two guys who worked for Disk Union Tokyo at a record fair in Birmingham, AL last spring and apparently they crisscross the U.S. travelling to record stores and record fairs with a rental truck. When they reach Los Angeles everything is loaded in a container and shipped to Japan.

I thought I would be able to score a good deal on a Japanese phono cartridge in Japan. That illusion was shattered by visits to a couple of different hi-fi shops where prices were equal to or higher than in the States.

Everyone I ran into in Japan was effusively polite and what really struck me was that the Japanese people were not just polite and considerate to me as a guest, they were also very respectful of one another. I found this strong civil society, personal discipline and consideration for public morality to be what I enjoyed most about travelling around there. If you take time to research reasonable accommodations you can travel pretty inexpensively. A Japanese rail pass gets you unlimited high speed train trips while you are there and also works on many subway lines in Tokyo and Osaka. The trains and buses run flawlessly and are always on time. The subway trains are spotless too . . . if you can imagine that.

By Steven Frost

I was really pleasantly surprised when the Shinkansen (bullet train) from Kyoto to Osaka arrived at Osaka Central Station after no more than a 15-20 minute ride. We put our stuff in the room and headed out for Minami, one of Osaka’s main commercial areas, adjacent to Little America, an Osaka neighborhood with a reputation for being young and cool. Minami was the first place I’d been in Japan that wasn’t spotless, and it was super touristy and overcrowded. My daughter quickly became consumed with shopping, with my wife in a supporting role, but my threshold for clothes shopping, while longer than when marriage first began rubbing off all my sharp edges, is still limited. I put “jazz bar” into Google Maps and lo and behold, there was a hit a mere three minute walk down the main shopping drag and up a side street to Jazz Bar Top Rank. I did my now well- rehearsed up and down the street “where the hell is this place?” before finding the staircase and heading to the second floor.

The jazz bar/coffee house concept is something well known in Japan. It is well described here http://tokyojazzsite.com/tokyo-yokohama-jazz-spots-bars-clubs-cafes-shops-introduction/

This was the first time I visited one. The typical business model is $7-$10 drinks with an additional cover charge. These establishments and many other restaurants are cash only. When I walked in I was pleasantly surprised to see a No Smoking sign behind the bar. The proprietor was playing a CD by a female Japanese saxophonist on a nice Marantz disc player, Marantz vintage tube amp and a pair of JBL 101’s. He also had a several vintage turntables, and other pairs of speakers.

Marantz CD players seemed to be the digital delivery vehicle of choice everywhere and direct drive turntables are also very popular. Vintage JBL loudspeakers, particularly the large 4300 series monitors with blue front panels are also widely seen. After the CD playing when I arrived was over the owner played several LP’s while I enjoyed the time drinking cold Yebisu beer and looking at thousands of records and the jazz ephemera he had obviously collected over a lifetime. I thought to myself that if I could retreat to such a cool spot whenever my wife and daughter went shopping at home I’d drive them to go out shopping all the time!

Once wife and daughter finished their shopping expedition and dragged me away from the bar, we headed to American Village where I had been told by friends I could find many record stores. I played the iPhone Google Maps where-the-hell-is-it game again before finding a another hidden doorway with steps leading to a number of stores upstairs. Here I came across no records that I wanted, but did find the Osaka Records map which lists no less than 30 stores. Here is a shot of one interior page to give you an idea about the richness and breadth of Osaka’s record culture.

While American Village was a bust for me, the next evening we went to the Umeda area where I visited Disk Union Osaka. Across from the store I visited is another large Disk Union that only sells classical music. There is something very positive and hopeful about being in a record store with many other shoppers also passionate about music and records. Disk Union was really busy and there were at least five other people seriously perusing the jazz titles. Like my experience in Tokyo’s Disk Union shops, Disk Union Osaka’s prices and selection were remarkable. The jazz section in the Disk Union Osaka store is enormous, bins along two walls and a record wall with many gems. I bought a nice, original New Jazz Teddy Charles ND quartet 10” with J.R. Monterose, something that I’d wanted for some time. I also bought the German J.R. Monterose- Body & Soul live LP with Jon Eardley and a stack of Japanese reissues (Prestige, Riverside, Blue Note, Disques Vogue) that were all priced inexpensively and in immaculate condition. I like that Disk Union uses an AB scale for grading (perhaps because I’m an educator) and notes on the pricing strip why the record has received its given grade. That said, B is the lowest grade I ever saw here, and even the B records are at least what we call VG+. I did not want an opportunity to visit Japan to only be about records, and I scored such a heavy stack at Disk Union, that I decided that was enough record shopping for Osaka. There were a couple of other stores I would like to visit, particularly Jazz Records Seeed, but it will need to wait until next time.

Our furthest stop south on our east coast journey through Japan was in Takamatsu, located in the northeastern part of Fukuoka, a couple of hours by train south of Osaka. The draw here is Takamatsu’s proximity to the art island of Naoshima, which is fantastic, particularly if you like great art and architecture in idyllic natural surroundings. I discovered another jazz record bar in Takamatsu, with the requisite enormous JBL monitors, and a really nice store called Roots Records.

Roots Records had a great extensive selection of jazz records covering every period from the early fifties through the eighties and also a really large selection of fusion if that is your thing. Again, I found really well cared for records at very reasonable prices. There were a couple of other promising stores in Takamatsu that I didn’t make it to. There is also a really nice live venue in Takamatsu called Speak Low, that was unfortunately closed for a construction project while I was there.

My record bag, an ugly Shure DJ bag bought on closeout that worked brilliantly for its task, was already unwieldy by this point in the trip. Our plan was to spend a few days in Hakone, a glorious mountain area outside Tokyo that has great museums, hot springs and hiking, and then head to metropolitan Tokyo for four or five days at the end of the trip. I’ll do a final post on metropolitan Tokyo, try to address some of the questions/observations in the JC comments section and reflect on some final takeaways from Japan.

I’m Steven Frost, a longtime reader of Jazz Collector and jazz music aficionado. I reached out to Al to see if he’d be interested in me writing about my jazz record-related adventures on a family summer trip to Japan. Initially my computer had some keyboard issues after arrival and it looked like I’d need to wait until I returned to the States to document the trip, yet a couple of days ago my Macbook keyboard miraculously healed itself. It must be related to all the wonderful temples we have visited since arriving here.

I looked forward to this trip for a long time, having spent many years in China, but never having the opportunity for an extended trip to Japan. My first encounter with the Japanese appreciation for jazz had come as a college student in 1991. Not long after settling in my dorm room in Beijing I was playing something by Coltrane on a boombox when a knock came on the door. It was a Japanese student I’d never met who looked at me and only said, “Coltrane.” Then he took me by the arm and walked me down the hall to his room and opened the door. My eyes were greeted by a large Impulse era poster of Coltrane he’d obviously brought from home, sitting on a large tripod by his desk. I have purchased a number of records from Japanese sellers over the years and also have a fondness for Japanese phono cartridges, but was very curious to see if my impression of Japan as a jazz loving country, one developed from afar, would be reinforced by an actual visit here.

My adventure started in a suburb of Tokyo called Ikebukuro, where we spent several days getting acclimated and combatting jet lag. The first stop was Daruma-ya, a large store in terms of inventory (supposedly more than 100,000 titles), but like most Japanese urban spaces the space was at a premium, making it feel a little overwhelming. Daruma-ya is located the upper floor of a nondescript multi-story building in what appeared to be Ikebukuro’s red light district, cocktails with 100% guaranteed college students anyone?  The need to develop a vertically oriented sense of space was, for me, the only really challenging aspect of navigating Japan. Nearly every store I visited was located above street level in a multi- story building, and Google Maps can sometimes be confusing in Japan’s dense urban areas, a thought I’ll return to later.

Daruma-ya is like walking into a candy store, albeit one where the candy is dusty and expensive. They have a selection of thousands of jazz and blues lp’s, many of which are original pressings. The organizational principle at Daruma- ya seems logical (a theme to be repeated other places) where generally records are organized by instrument and then leader of the recording date, but sometimes alphabetical order is randomly violated. Are records filed alphabetically by performer first name, or last name?  Depending on your level of OCD, this can be a welcome adventure, or mildly annoying. T

he selection of fine records at Darum-ya was impressive, and everything I remember looking at was clean and in VG+ or better condition. There are also thousands of 45’s, a format that has remained very strong in Japan. It felt like the owner’s pricing strategy was to find the highest price paid for specific titles on Popsike and price his records accordingly. I found an original pressing of Dizzy Reece- Asia Minor and was ready to pull the trigger for what I thought was a fair cash offer, but had to walk away.

I like to buy items from brick and mortar establishments whenever possible, because I really enjoy record shopping in a physical store, and appreciate the commitment it takes to be a retailer, but I also find as I get older it is satisfying to find bargains or at least what I consider to be reasonable prices. I picked up several Japanese pressings here, and would likely have bought much more if I did not feel the owner was trying to sell every record for the highest possible price on the best day.

The next afternoon I visited the Disk Union Ikebukuro branch. Disk Union operates a number of stores in Tokyo and Osaka. Some liken the store to a supermarket for records. Locating Disk Union was an adventure in itself. On a hot, humid, crowded afternoon in Tokyo with the sun beating down I walked passed the store at least three times before finally figuring out it was on the fourth floor of a non-descript building; above a Thai Restaurant, a boutique and a Denny’s restaurant. After my visit to Daruma-ya I was pleasantly surprised to find several thousand records in the jazz section, a store full of shoppers buying things, and surprisingly reasonable prices. I picked up a clean VG+ second pressing of Introducing Carl Perkins on Dootone for $6. There was also a nice original Fontana UK pressing of Tubby Hayes, Mexican Green, priced too inexpensively that I somehow stupidly didn’t buy (because I reasoned that I had a reissue that sounds great and I like the music so much I’m not thinking about the sound… blasphemy I know). When I returned at the end of my journey intending to snatch it up, it was gone, of course. The Ikebukuro location is not a well- known branch of Disk Union, but I wondered to myself walking down the street after shopping, “if this is the second-tier store I can only imagine what the branches closer to central Tokyo and Osaka must be like.”

Our next stop was Kyoto, Japan’s historic capital. Kyoto is a requisite stop for first-time visitors to Japan, and also for hordes of uniformed high school students. There are a ton of record stores in Kyoto, and I only had time to visit five to seven located in close proximity of one another. Maybe if I had been looking for other things besides jazz records visiting these stores would have been more memorable. I did have an interesting experience when I visited a store called Joe’s Garage, whose logo was the Warhol Velvet Underground banana. My wife and daughter were shopping so I randomly put “record store” into Google Maps. The result was in Japanese but I followed the arrow down the narrow, crowded street. I passed the front door several times before figuring out the right doorway. On the second floor of a building was a group of ladies in what looked like a hair salon that also sold boutique women’s clothing. At the end of the hall was a cryptic cardboard sign in English and Japanese on a door stating: “Joe’s Garage: This is not an entrance. The entrance is around the side.” I went outside the building to look for an alternative entrance on the non- existent “side” and was unable to find one, so I started walking away, before thinking the sign might be some sort of ruse or Zappa insider joke to see if customers were clued in. I went back upstairs and turned the non-entrance door handle. Finding it unlocked I walked into ceiling-high boxes of records with a narrow passage between them. Upon rounding a corner there was a tightly packed store with lots of nice things, particularly if you were into classic rock. I must have spent several minutes in there looking at records by myself before the owner, who looked like a Japanese classic rocker himself, emerged from the back. When I mentioned the strange entrance into the store he pointed around another corner behind me. The front door to the record store was through the ladies’ salon next door. Who knew?

The only interesting discovery I made in terms of first pressings in my wandering around Kyoto to this point was a tatty copy of Charles Tolliver’s Music Inc. two-LP set recorded live in Loosdrechdt, Netherlands for under $10. In fairness, I was so quickly spoiled by the great record shopping I’d encountered in the suburbs of Tokyo, I had already developed high expectations.

I must note one outstanding exclusively jazz store in Kyoto called… Art Blakey drum roll please… Hard Bop.

This store seems like a true labor of love and I wish I’d had more time to look around. Hard Bop had at least 5,000 to 7,000 titles with many original pressings mixed with superb condition Japanese reissues. The owner of Hard Bop had many desirable records in his stacks and on the wall, some of which are in the accompanying photos, and whose covers will be recognizable to readers of this website. Unlike Daruma-ya, where the owner seemed acutely in tune with the global online record market, the owner of Hard Bop seemed to live in a world where computers had not been invented yet. He was playing a CD-only title by Steve Kuhn Trio on Venus Records. Steve Kuhn was an artist I wasn’t familiar with but really dug, and I ended up getting a Steve Kuhn Trio LP on Venus here along with a couple of other records. I imagine most JC readers are familiar with the Japanese Venus label, which produces really elegantly packaged, well- engineered recordings that sell for premium prices. I figured these Venus titles would be a little less expensive in Japan, but they are obviously very desirable for Japanese jazz fans too. The most entertaining aspect of the visit to Hard Bop was the elderly owner having a Lost-in-Translation conversation with my teenage daughter. He spoke no English and my daughter speaks no Japanese. She can be seen hiding between the aisles as I took an overall photo of the space.

By the time I left Kyoto I had approximately 15 records making my Japan tour with me, less than a week into the trip. How soon would this grow into a larger, “why-the-hell-am-I-lugging-all-these-records-across-Japan” load? Stay tuned for part two.

As I have promised Al over the years, I will continue to submit for his approval, my journeys into the unknown of crate diggin’ we call the Twilight Zone. This week’s episode takes us to Birmingham. Not Birmingham, England, but Birmingham, Alabama. You might ask why Birmingham, Ala., generally regarded as fertile hunting grounds for Southern Fried Rock such as the Allman Brothers or Lynyrd Skynyrd, but certainly not for our favorite genre.  I was heading there for a business trip so I thought I would go where no jazzman has gone before (sorry for the weak TV references) and see what I could find.

I put an ad in the Birmingham craigslist website a couple of weeks before my trip and drummed up some potentially promising leads. In previous posts, I have documented my screening techniques. I don’t like to ask too many questions or ask for too many pictures before I see the goods. Just enough information to validate that jazz means something other than Enoch Light or Jackie Gleason, and that some of my favorite labels and/or artists are there. I especially like to ask about the history of the collection and the provenance. That often tells me about the likelihood of finding some hidden gems. With this screening approach, sometimes you win and sometimes you lose.

Tyrone, a man in his mid 60s, told me about a collection of records he had from his deceased father who was originally from Chicago. Yes it was all jazz. And yes it was convenient to where I was working in Birmingham. We arranged a time for me to stop by his house. I don’t like traveling to unknown places and meeting with strangers while carrying large amounts of cash, but that is an occupational hazard in this line of business.  I arrived at his house and went in. I patiently waited for 15 minutes while I heard Tyrone rummaging through his basement. He came back up with a stack of only 10 records.

Strike one. Where was the promised Chi-town bounty? He handed me the pile and not a jazz record to be found, not even by the most generous definition of jazz. Whitney Houston, Grover Washington, and Stevie Wonder. Strike two.The topper was when I began the cursory examination of the vinyl I undertook so as not to offend him. Unfortunately, even that small undertaking was not possible. You see, he had obviously never actually looked at the records and none of them had contents. Just 10 empty jackets. Strike three.

He appeared genuinely remorseful and apologized. As I headed to the door, he said he had more records around back in his car. Gulp. I sucked it up and went to his garage. Moving the gallon of antifreeze and jumper cables off the records, there was more of the lack of the same and I quickly said my good-byes. An hour later I got a text from Tyrone apologizing for his lack of preparedness and saying that his wife found more records and promised me better pickings. I thanked him and vowed to myself that even if he later sent me a picture of a DG True Blue, our relationship was finished.

My next stop was Mrs. Smith. She appeared to be a little old lady on the preparatory email exchanges.  She sent me pix of some Verve Oscars and Stans. A Liberty Jazz Messengers.  A Best of Cannonball. Nothing exciting or collectible. But then it appeared. A Dexter Gordon Doo-Tone red vinyl Blows Hot and Cool. I actually already have a VG+ copy of this one and Mrs. Smith’s seemed a little rougher, but what the heck. Certainly worth a trip, if nothing else. Unlike my earlier visit with Tyrone, Mrs. Smith was more leery of me than I of her.  She didn’t want me to come to her home and we arranged to meet in the parking lot of a local Starbucks. Mrs. S appeared, zipping into the parking lot driving a bright red Toyota Scion and popped the trunk.

No little old lady. She was whip smart and spritely. She had about 50 records, including the ones in the pictures. Mrs. S. I quickly learned, was a local dealer and even had a Discogs account. Ouch. So much for me thinking I would get a sweet deal. Thankfully, she said she only sold sealed records online and these records hadn’t been listed. I pulled out a  Donald Byrd Blackjack, an early Sarah Vaughn on Mercury, a Shepp on Impulse I didn’t have, and an Oscar Petersen on Prestige. And there  was the Dexter. I casually plucked it out and put in the stack.

“That one’s gonna cost you,” indicated Mrs. Smith. “It’s really rare.”

“And not worth much in that shape,” I quickly retorted now that I knew she was a professional trader.

She smiled back.  “I played it yesterday and not a skip,” she countered.

Mrs. Smith did not look like the type who played her records with a $5,000 jade cartridge so the prospects of groove wear did come to mind. But I let it pass. She evaluated the records and said, “How much are you thinking for the five of them?” Ah. A seasoned negotiator cornering me to make the first move.

But I was not giving up the fight. “Ladies first” I replied. She smirked and said $125 for the bunch.  I had already come to the party thinking the Dexter was worth about $100 to me, especially as I already had a copy. I countered with $100 for the five and we shook on it.  A fair deal between experienced players. Yet, as we were parting, Mrs. Smith dropped a little tidbit.  “And I will call you when my 80-year-old friend from Cleveland finally sends me that Blue Note collection.” Always leave them wanting more, Mrs. S. Always give them something to hope for.

My next stop was outside of Birmingham. As they say in the South, it gets pretty country pretty fast and, trust me, 60 miles outside of B’ham can get real country. Joan lived on a country road outside of Attalla, which has the town motto “Gateway to Northeast Alabama.”  Our phone conversations were interesting.  Her father was a radio DJ in Birmingham in the ‘50s.  Yes! She had over 1,000 records. Good start. And she was the nanny for Jimmy Cobb’s children when he lived in Upstate New York. The lady had her bona fides. She did say that most of the records were not jazz, but if I considered Art Blakey or Miles Davis or Cannonball jazz then she probably had something if I was willing to pick through it.

Joan’s place was not easy to find on Google Maps, but eventually I found her mailbox. As I drove up the gravel road, I was swarmed by over 100 animals. Chickens flew in front of my car. Several dogs ran alongside and there were even a few ducks and cats about. Joan had neglected to mention that she lived on a working farm. I slammed on the brakes. “Don’t worry,” she yelled as she came around. “They usually move away. Just drive past the tractor.”

Joan was a real sweet person and after I parked the car and was acquainted with her five dogs, she directed me into the open-sided hay barn. “Here you go. Start anywhere you like.” And here I was. There were as many records as she indicated, stored in musty boxes on the ground, exposed to the elements for years. As I approached the first box, a blur entered my field of vision and a tiny goat jumped on top of the records. Unfortunately, I was too stunned to take what would have been a picture for the ages for the Jazz Collector website.

“She just wants to have fun and this is her playground”, Joan assured me.

“Wonderful” I murmured.

Thankfully, the records were easy to sift through and I got more knowledgeable then I ever thought possible with the easy listening tastes of the 1960s, when light classical, Reader’s Digest box sets, Martin Denny and the Lettermen ruled the airwaves. I was too tired to even ask for a price on the four potential buys I contemplated and simply thanked Joan for her time. On my way out she did say, however, that she felt bad I drove all that way for nothing and gave me a braid of 10 garlic bulbs from her garden to take home. There’s a first time for everything.

My Alabama journey was almost complete. One more stop.One more chance at gold. What took me to Kevin and his small town with literally seven BBQ joints and one coffee shop? The potential score of a lifetime. Kevin indicated that he inherited a collection of records and memorabilia from his great uncle from Detroit who used to work for Irving Mills Publishing in the ‘30s and ‘40s as a publicist for Duke Ellington and Cab Calloway, and continued into the business through the ‘60s. I Googled his uncle’s name and it came back legit. He said he tried to sell the items to various universities, but they would only take it as a donation and he needed the money.

I said that while Duke and memorabilia were not really my thing, I would be interested in other artists. I sent him a sample list of 50 artists of interest and record labels. A day later, he replied that many of these were represented. Dreams of audition copies of pristine BNs danced in my head. We arranged to meet at a storage unit where he had the items.  Even better. Too much stuff to fit in his house!  As I was driving there, I got a text from him. “Wow. I started looking these records up on line and they are worth more than I could have imagined. I even found some first pressing Rolling Stones records worth $400 each. We are expecting our first child and my wife really needs a car.”

Crap. I promised myself I would not spend more than a $1,000 on records but Kevin’s text had me stop off at an ATM and withdraw another $500. We met at the storage facility. He remarked how he was so happy that the unit was climate controlled given the value of the records. He pulled up the metal door and inside the unit were two boxes of 30 records each. Surely there must be more. He said he owned the next storage unit too. Maybe he was just testing my legitimacy before he brought out the heavy hitters. The first box was filled with 29 Capitol Rainbow label Frank Sinatra records. “These are nothing special, he said. “Maybe only worth $50-60 each.”

I belched up my sweet iced tea consumed on the drive up. I didn’t say anything regarding his exorbitant pricing methodology and pulled the solitary turquoise label first pressing out just to be a good sport. He pointed to the next box. “Now here’s why you drove all the way up here.”

And there it was. A box of crap. Weather Report. Della Reese. Six Ella’s, three sealed Pablos  and a couple of ECMs. I was incredulous. The mentioned Blue Notes. A 45-RPM by Horace Silver was all there was. Where were the Parkers, Miles, Monks and Sahib Shihabs he promised? Oh, there. All in a collection of five Europa Jazz comps from Italy. I cursed myself for thinking I was smarter than I was. I should have asked more questions and gotten pictures.

Yet I hate buying nothing if I can avoid it. I pulled out a shrink-wrapped Ella on Decca, Grant Green Mainstream on Kudu, Gary Peacock on ECM and a McCoy Tyner on Milestone.  A look of dejection crossed Kevin’s face. “Is that all you want?” That and the Sinatra I replied.  How much are you offering he asked. I thought about it a good long time. Quite honestly, I didn’t want any of these records.  It was what I called a Mercy Buy.  A non-tax deductible donation to the cause. “$50” I said which was $35 too much in mind.  And to this day, I swear a small tear trickled down his cheek.

“Seriously?” he asked. I nodded yes.  “But my wife… the car,” he softly said.  He thought about it for a few minutes. “How about $65?” Now usually I am a soft touch but after Tyrone, Noah’s Ark and the two-hour drive to Kevin in the 90-degree heat and humidity, I was not feeling very generous. “Sorry.  $50 is it. I truly don’t need these records and I am really not playing negotiating games.”

“OK.  I’ll take it”, he said, “I have to come home to my wife with some money after I took off work today.”“You know these records are worth a lot more”, he said after I paid him.

“Not to me,” I replied.

He whipped out his phone and pulled up Popsike.  “See this Chet Baker Quietly There on World Pacific you passed on? Someone in Germany paid $40 for it. And the Ella and Duke at Cote D’Azur on Verve went for over $100 in Japan.”  He was right.  Someone did pay for that much for those records. But I wasn’t going to. And then the dagger to my hardened collector’s heart. “I was up all night pricing these records. I had to pay $20 to subscribe to Popsike because I was researching so much. And look at this.”

He pulled out a small notepad. There were all 60 records listed with high and average prices over the past five years documented, and the grand total on the last page was $2,450, his estimate of the value of the collection. In another time and place, I might have put my arm around his shoulder and nestled his head close to my bosom and gently stroked it helping to ease his pain. But that was not the time or place and it was getting late.

“eBay, my son. Try selling on eBay.”

“Without music, life would be a mistake.”  – Friedrich Nietzsche

“Nothing will ever take the place of you.“ Well, if you’re a collector, something has to, correct?! I mean, all this energy/devotion has to go somewhere. I began the first post quoting from Mr. A‘s email to me wherein he touched on an important part of ceasing to collect records: “How to find a place in our lives for the passion we get by collecting, listening and playing jazz.” The realization that I could exist without being a “record boy” was similar to the one depicted by Harvey Pekar in American Splendor #4, “How I Quit Collecting Records and Put Out A Comic Book With The Money I Saved.”

Yet, I had no inclination to produce a comic book. Nor did I wish to follow the example of an acquaintance, Bruno Johnson, who sold his record collection to finance the start of a CD label, Okka Disc. So, I faced a decision; in Gurdjieffian thought, what do I want to be? Now, this time around.

Part 1, Dancing in Your Head, ended with young Lenni on the cusp of an adventure. There was another adventure at that time that directly involved music. Not long after the purchase of the Charlie Parker LP “Night and Day,” – it was the title track that altered my being – I bought myself a saxophone.  This was the time when State Street in Chicago, north from the river to Rush street, was a neighborhood, before it became a glass and steel canyon. Stores, dwellings, shoe repair stores, hey, remember when there were such places, places that repaired shoes, tv and radio repair, tailors, all before we became inclined to throw everything away, no more fixing. But I digress.

North of Chestnut Street, there was a violin shop on State Street, I recall the name of Pinders, a time when such places could exist, small music stores, and one day as I was walking past, in the window was a silver alto saxophone, nestled in a case against the purplish lining. I had to have it. And I paid for it, slowly, using allowance and such. It was a Conn or Buescher, I don’t remember and I am sure it needed work, but I bought it and it was mine and I taught myself to play it. To play reasonably well.

And this reasonably well playing served me until this year. My first horn is long gone, traded for another. I turned to the tenor, as it had a sound I felt. I can play the tenor saxophone proficiently and read music and still have a pretty good ear and figure out tunes. BUT what to do about theory, what to play over A minor 7th flat 9th. What about tritone substitutions? What about really becoming a fluent improviser?

And then I came to realize what I wanted to be, what I want to do with my time remaining on the planet, what I would use to replace collecting. I want to become the best musician right now that I can be. As a teenager, I always wanted to attend a band camp. Family situations and then a decade of mistakes got in my way. Getting recent adverts from such jazz camps rekindled that desire. But actually go to camp?. Well, being at an older age, I have no desire to sleep in a dorm nor walk down corridors to use water closet facilities.

To me, as a former teacher and as a person, it is most important to know what you don’t know. And arriving at that knowing, if so desired, to gain the knowledge. So I sought a teacher. It was hard for me to admit I needed help. However, I came across a player who teaches and is most proficient on the saxophone, who went to band camps, to universities for music degrees, who is sought after for gigs, who is some 40 years younger than me. I told him I want to know.

We’ve been working since February. And last month I told him I want to be in your band camp, I want you to create such a thing for us, I want an intensive study, I need to know this, the how’s and whys, because I can’t rely on my ear, rely on “fakin’ it” anymore, rely on hoping what I’m playing fits in, rely on guessing.  We meet twice a week at the music store where he works. An hour lesson each time. My confusion level reaches new peaks after each lesson; yet my excitement/exhilaration also intensifies after each lesson.

You should know this. Not only records did I collect, I once had five tenor saxes, a baritone, an alto, a soprano and umpteendiddley mouthpieces all at the same time. Because, you see, if I was having difficulties, I took the way of it isn’t me, it’s the horn, mouthpiece, reed, etc. Now I have one tenor, my main focus, one mouthpiece. And a soprano with one mouthpiece. That’s all. Because I need to become self-reliant, to use what I have to achieve my goal, to gain the knowing. For if I’m constantly changing my tools, how will I now when the change comes? And too much of anything I now realize for Lenni doesn’t work.

Yes, I still have some records, and as I type this I have singled out more for disposal/dispersal. Bird was it early for me, but I don’t need every Bird lick. That’s Phil Schaap’s job. Every note of Trane, well, not really. I don’t need every Charles Gayle CD, every Ayler, every Lester. I need what resonates. And such diminishes as I learn the how’s and whys of music. I still look at listings and of course follow Jazz Collector. I enjoy the looking at records and the reading of lists, of others’ acquisitions; I have no desire to return to the physical getting.

So, here it is. My coming into knowledge. How I got over. Knowing a new passion, I gave up the old. Somewhat easily. There’s a regret here and there over departed records; as Bill Chavers of Olde Wells Record Shop on North State Street (of course) back 40 odd years ago would often say as I bought something, “goodbye old record.“

I have a passion still, a new one, and am giving my all to it. I made a change, driven by a new desire. Such may come to you. Or not. It really doesn’t matter. It’s just that I feel the love of what you’re doing should be the impetus, the drive to continue. Otherwise, this reduces your passion to the mundane-ness of a job, “ho-hum, I have to buy another Blue Note to fill in a missing number in the series.” And then the joy of music becomes a mistake.

Thanks to all for reading of my changes. May your love of Jazz music continue to enrich your lives, no matter how you participate.

“After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.” – Aldous Huxley