Fantastical Dream Come True...

As a young boy I'd occasionally have a dream that I either suddenly came into or already was the owner of some astounding, heretofore undiscovered cache of enviable booty - which for me was either records or musical instruments, although toys and sweets also made their appearances. Massive, king's castle size collections of albums, 45s, 78s, pianos, drums - whatever. Usually it was the last dream before waking up - to the hard truth, and some logical, consoling thoughts: "that was magnificent, but such things only happen in dreams."

Cut to the year 2012. I've done my fair share of crate digging over the years; recently, more than I can keep up with. So when a student's mom called me 2 weeks ago to tell me she'd found a thrift store in Flagler Beach with 2 shelves of records - I was highly pleased, but decided some restraint might be needed. On the way there a few days later, I asked myself "Why am I going?". I concluded that I needed to get out of the house, and that maybe there'd be one or two gems that would truly give me some pleasurable moments. The call from the friend and the trip there had a distant sense of 'destiny' to it.

As I shuffled into the shop I heard the owner making generous bargains with another customer for some knick-knacks - "half-off today only". I thought nothing of it. Finding the records within microseconds, I was hunched over going through the bottom shelf. The sign said "Records $1 each; or take them all for $30. Bring Your Own Totes".

one of the jump blues 78's I was eying...

In minutes I had chosen 2 or 3 jump blues 78's from the 1950's, and was really just browsing from that point on. The selection was unusually refined. With the unearthly speed of an angelic messenger, a pair of man's shoes and khaki shorts were suddenly in my eye-line, and a calm, confident voice heralded the offer to cart off all the vinyl for $30.

I had considered it; but not that seriously. I wheeled around and told him "I would if I had the room for it". I thought I had declared that with a solid sense of finality. But Charlie (co-owner of Charson's Treasures) also knew it was destiny, destiny for him to gain some serious shelf room for an upcoming purchase of his own! He then gave me one of his obscene discounts that, frankly, the Scot in me was in no condition to refuse - all of the records for $15. The deal was sealed; I gave him $20 because I thought it was just too low (the Frenchman in me?) and began hauling armfuls of albums into my poor little Taurus for one of two trips home.

the first trunkful - those piles are about 70 deep.

front seat...

back seat... wait - is this a song?

From the rest of the evening I was in a foggy, blissful state: somewhere between "I can't believe this is happening", "this is not happening" and "you are one lucky dog!". An hour or two later I realized - this is the sort of thing that happened in those dreams I had as a boy. "It's a dream come true!" Needless to say I got around to thanking God for the crazy-sized blessing, and for remembering.

2nd trunk full - before  the trip home

I'd conservatively put the addition to my collection at about 500-600 lps and 25 78's. There is a healthy percentage of easy-listening in there, so my dad is set for life. The rest is mostly classical, well kept with one annoying exception, the owner was very free with a magic marker. There's a good chunk of classic gospel (including Shirley Caesar - probably my favorite) smattering of rock (Yes, Strawbs, Rick Wakeman) and the wonderful dash here and there of absurdities- my favorite!

one of two Jonas Mazurkas 10" albums -
you can never have enough mazurkas...

looking forward to getting with this one...

 I didn't even look through the collection for a day or two, and then only a little at a time over the next week. It was kind of like having a thrift store in my piano room. "Let's see what we have today". When I decided to have my first listen - I went for the Nonesuch release (of course! see this) of some Couperin harpsichord music. Next were some of the ones pictured below. "Hog Heaven" would be a good description of how I feel each time I look at the new acquisition. No rude awakening this time! - KM

oh yeah - that painting in his shirt is embossed on the
cardboard - Freddie Hubbard & Milt Jackson on this 'un.

my choice for 1st listen from the massive stash...
nice relaxin' baroque harpsichord with some humor...

Nonesuch audio & visual bliss...

A fine example of the Nonesuch package back in the day...with the familiar cover designs by William S. Harvey, and this particular artwork by Edward Sorel. I picked this up in the late 80's, special ordered at a mom and pop store. Even then the owner thought I was weird, wanting vinyl...I played the stuffin' out of it in the height of my mania for sacred choral music. It is, alas, unplayable now.

On another blog I recently wrote of how Bach's Magnificat impacted me mightily as a young boy. I hear the opening measures now and I still go "Wow!". Back then it was akin to an out-of-body experience. I hadn't heard anything so powerful and well-crafted before, and it gripped me and shook me. It was, as the above, a Nonesuch cut-out, I picked up for $2.99 most likely.

Nonesuch H-71091 Artwork by Donald Leake

New, beautiful sounds were like giant, floating, cosmic pearls to me as a kid, and the many record bins at Master's (later Modells) in Centereach were my oysters. The most opalescent were the budget-priced cut-outs from Nonesuch; with their brilliantly colored baroque-meets-psychedelia artwork,  exuberant performances of lesser known masterworks, and the fascinating liner notes a boy like me could get lost in for a while.

An equal sonic punch was delivered to me by their release of Bach's Cantata 140 "Wachet Auf..."; it's spiritual value as compelling as it's aural. I remember gazing at the cover intently, while the stately, dotted figures of that grand opening movement announced to me: "Here comes music from another world." I own neither album now, I keep an eye out for a bargain on ebay or Amazon from time to time. No matter, the feelings still reside within me.

Nonesuch H-71132 Artwork by Donald Leake

By now some readers know my devotion to Bach, Vivaldi and even Handel. Tucked back in a curious corner of my mind is an inquisitiveness about and an open ear for Telemann. I'm ever impressed by his super-human output, I mean the man has 600 Ouvertures alone! Almost mocking the 4 similar Suites that Bach left us. Handel 'borrowed' liberally from them, and Bach transcribed 2 of his concertos for keyboard.

In his time, he was first choice before Bach at any gig offering, turning down the job at Leipzig that Bach then held for the rest of his life. Right or wrong, these things I can't overlook - and in the last few weeks, I've given him a lot of spins on the hard-drive turntable. He is his own man, and yet can be overlooked for the more obvious and concentrated powers of his more famous contemporaries - a justification they might have appreciated to see, at least secretly. (Bach and Telemann were friends.)


Well anyway, my thoughts on Telemann brought me to remembering some fine moments I had just a few years ago, listening to the above pictured albums on my little Handy Trax turntable. Today, I listened to the blue one with the moths, and had a grand old time! Got me to thinking about Nonesuch... and my endless musings on marketing, and what makes these covers such a success.

I think there is something to be said for formula, if you've got a good one. Naxos cds follow a very similar pattern; in artwork presentation, making unfamiliar titles available, and in budget price (at least formerly). Even Impulse Records work with one theme for their art, with black and orange and passionate photography. Each one is new yet familiar!

Nonesuch (also a pioneer in world music) is still around, not making budget classical releases, mind you - and under the Warner umbrella. Thanks for shtoppin' by :) - KM

Underground Composer Meets King of Vanity Press

This is a survivor from my 2nd record collection - one of the 20 or so I grabbed to take with me when I moved to Brooklyn from Selden. Most of the others had water/mildew damage (half of the ones I salvaged had to come sans jackets). This was perhaps the only one I chose not for sentimental or musical reasons, but for it's possible value: on the back is an autograph by the composer.

I picked this up before I was 20, and did not have an ear for modern composition. I was also presumptuous and narrow-minded, and thought this must have belonged to the composer himself (or his most devoted fan)... since there was all this extra typewritten material inside with press reviews of the album. I was not the pointiest sharpie in the pencil cup back then. All I needed to do was read the autograph.

"To Ed Uhlan - maybe he'll publish me some day?! All my best wishes, Richard Yardumian Dec '66"

While perusing through my modest vinyl collection the other day - I thought I'd give Mr. Yardumian another go, since my tastes and understanding have come a ways in the last 10 years. When I absorbed the autograph, and considered the 11 pages of press and analysis, I became a little alarmed. Had I intercepted this attempt by the composer to get his music to the masses? No - the date clears me of that crime. Also, if Yardumian had any knowledge of what type of publisher Uhlan was, then he might have saved  the press material for a better occasion.

Just who was Ed Uhlan? I had to find out! A quick google revealed him to be owner of Exposition Press, one of the 4 largest vanity publishers in the world. (In case you didn't know - vanity publishers print your book at your expense, and in most cases - that's about it. It seems that Uhlan went the extra mile and promoted it, and also printed it up to industry standards, and put effort into the design and craft). For a classical composer with 13 children, this was no contact at all - but more of a stinging letdown.

Nonetheless - the autograph (I still have no concept of it's value - although the album itself is going for a saucy $60 on ebay) introduced me to a couple of intriguing characters in the arts...and in Uhlan's case - a fascinating life story.

He grew up in Hell's Kitchen, the son of Ukrainian immigrants, becoming a bookbinder. His boss and job went under during the Great Depression. An industrious youth, Uhlan took the knowledge he picked up at the publisher's and went to the NYC Public Library. He found 600 poets who had recently been published and got their addresses. He then contacted them asking if they wanted to be a part of an anthology he was publishing. Inclusion meant they had to purchase a copy at $3. For $5.50 they could get 2 copies and their name on the cover in gold. This brilliance and intrepidity paid off - the poets were very happy with the book, and 6 years later Uhlan had 6 companies running. Pretty cool.

Yardumian, a much mellower man of Armenian descent, was fairly popular for a time, and received much support from Eugene Ormandy. He seems to have slipped into relative obscurity, his music being somewhere between Schoenberg, Bloch and Stravinsky - and at times, very unique. Luckily - I have some fine press material to help us out!

"Yardumian uses a 12-tone idiom that he has created for himself. The system permeates all aspects of his music, so that the result is personal, stylistically unified and formally sturdy. Although there are dissonances in the writing, there is a modal base that gives it a sense of tonality and keeps it free from extreme contemporaneity." - New York Times

That is a very astute summation of his sound. I kind of like it, but I can see where others more entrenched in classical aesthetics would not like it's rhapsodic, neo-romantic aspects. Snobs. lol  His music is more often than not God-centered, not always a popular stance in the 20th century highbrow circles. Yardumian later became involved with and composed for a branch of Christianity which adds (and insists upon) a 3rd testament. I doubt this helped him make headway in popularity (even with me). Still, the critics were raving about this particular album. The Music Journal goes as far to say he "may be the new Bach". Wow. Well, that didn't happen (yet, anyway) but it sure looks nice in your press kit!

There are 2 albums available for download at Amazon, most of his vinyl will fetch a fairly steep sum. Here is an excerpt from my copy of the 1st Symphony. According to Yardumian, the work is inspired by Noah and the Flood, and describes "travails experienced by everyone at some time or other" and that the story of the flood is "something in which we are all involved".

As far as the larger-than-life Ed Uhlan goes, there's plenty on the internet about him. Here is an extremely fascinating interview . He's quite a character and it's very fun reading. - KM

Three Record Collections

I've always had obsessive tendencies when it comes to audio mediums. When very young I collected anything and everything available I could get my little paws on. At around age 10, on one self-realizing day, I tired of the poor quality of both the music I'd amassed and it's physical condition. I marched all items (about 150 albums and 200 singles) a few houses away and threw them down into the storm drain; to the bewilderment of a few neighbors, and the consternation and (understandable) silent anger of my father who'd gone to good lengths to help me collect them. I was making a statement to myself - I wouldn't settle for crap anymore.

About 20 years later I had to abandon my 2nd collection (about 300 albums) when I moved from Selden to Brooklyn. CDs were the new medium of choice, and most of my vinyl (stored in the basement) had fallen victim to moisture and mold damage (along with a Rhodes Mark I). I took a handful of token representatives (including Lene Lovich's "New Toy" and Missing Persons "Give" 12 inch single), and a few I couldn't do without including 3 albums given to me as a birthday gift from a music teacher - music that opened up new worlds to me. Also rescued were a few that couldn't be replaced, like Walter Murphy's "Rhapsody in Blue" - an incredible melding of expert playing, fine arrangements/composing and rampant (charming?) 1970's cheesiness; and "Song of Joy" by Captain and Tennille - an album from which I learned so much about arranging, pop sensibilities and keyboard playing.

You couldn't have told me back then that in 10 more years, cds themselves would be endangered. Record stores like Tower, Virgin and Borders were like fortresses you could always run to any late night you were feeling musically anemic. No more. An obsessive music collector takes no real pleasure in albums and singles which can't be held in the hand or viewed away from a digital screen (although some might be amused or amazed at the structure and sub-structures of the mp3 collection in my desktop). I watch stunned as the price of items I once had all the time in the world to pick up skyrocket to unattainable and unwarranted heights. There's also this feeling of angst in knowing there might soon be a time when physical production will cease entirely. Book lovers I know express similar apprehensions.

There are, for now, up sides. Music that was simply a legend on someone's lips is now available for, pardon the pun, a song. "Out-of-print" could feasibly become an antiquated word, as (what's left of) record companies can rake in the smallest of profits from an obscure low-seller simply by hosting a 100 mb file on Amazon's ginormous servers. Musicians like myself can release online-only material and still get radio play and new online friends and fans.

But, based on personal sentiments, I don't believe collectors will ever be satisfied with anything less than a huge pile of plastic, or cardboard with plastic in it, taking up more room then we have, reminding us of all the hours of pleasure we've taken in - with them or because of them; gazing at the artwork, pouring over the liner notes printed in the tiniest of fonts. I like to consider myself someone with 'forever eyes' - trying to think more of the next world than this, but when it comes to music I'm a ridiculous hoarder - and there always seems to be that "right" album for the "right" moment or mood. My solution and my suggestion to all of this? Keep art alive - buy a new cd, or for some of you - a book. - KM