Is Crosley At A Crossroads?

There's talk on reddit's /r/vinyl/ about a new Crosley turntable. There's always talk about Crosley in general there: they're cheap, they eat your records, wouldn't give one to my worst enemy, etc.

But what's all this? Adjustable counterweight? An Ortofon cartridge? What happened to the Crosley we all know and hate? It doesn't even have this table on its site yet. Is it a late April Fool's joke?

Judging from the number of hits I got about it on Google, there's a chance. But our tipster reports it's true because there's a link to a record presser that is apparently selling this suspiciously respectable turntable...like right now. Want a look for yourself? Here you go.

Rumor is - and again, it's just rumor at this point since like I said, Crosely itself is virtually mum about this table - it might be a rebadged Pro-Ject. Which is indeed a good table.

A new version of its Keepsake now sports an Audio-Technica cartridge and diamond stylus. So if there are any rumors about Crosley gaming up its overall quality, they might be true. And I, like a lot of others, would be glad to see Crosley finally changing its tune.

The Latest In Rock 'N' Roll: The Earliest in Counterfeit Music

It's not always easy to tell a counterfeit. But sometimes you come across something that just screams it's fake. Even if you have to turn it around for it to start making noise. And this album's gonna get loud. Oh, it's a real record, and there's real music on it...just not the exact music '50s kids were clamoring for. And as you'll find out later, the music's not all that's loud on this album - one of the earliest from a genre I call "rocksploitation."

You've probably seen it on TV innumerable times: Now That's What I Call Music has done over 50 albums of repackaged hits. K-Tel, Ronco and Adam-VII used to do the same thing. They were pretty top-tier since they were all from the "Original Hits, Original Artists" school. Lesser labels like QMO and Pickwick had in-house bands to re-record popular songs, and occasionally rewrite a few lyrics to avoid having to pay royalties.

Then you had the bottom of the barrel: the strictly no-name bands on strictly no-name labels trying their damnedest to cash in on whatever was popular at the time, artistic integrity or even ethics  notwithstanding.

OK, let's dissect all this:

16 COMPLETE SONGS
That's the first clue you've got something a little bit special. They're bragging that you get to hear 100% of every song!  They recorded every note. In fairness, I point out that that didn't always happen with albums like these.

ALL OF YOUR FAVORITES
"OK, uh...Let's Go? The crystal ball lady said that won't be a hit for a few years yet. Round Robin? I don't remember the words exactly, but that doesn't sound right. Low Man? Stampede? Blazing Home? Well, now it sounds like I bought a country-and-western album! What's going on here? And I've never heard Moon Dream and Sky Rocket on my transistor radio before. I must have the wrong station on. Where are those 'top hits and current favorites' I thought I was getting?"

MUSIC FOR DANCING
I know I didn't ask for any of these songs, but yes, I guess you can dance to them, so technically they may have been honest about that.

And speaking of "technically:" I cleaned this record before I dubbed the two tracks you're about to hear. These budget labels were not well known for sound quality, despite what some of them would have you believe. I've even heard of some labels recycling their vinyl, melting it down to be pressed into other records. I can't help but wonder if this happened here...or whether people who bought this record wished they could do.

Here's that little-known gem, Jump The Gun. How many defenseless sax reeds had to die for this one?


I think someone deserves a Time Out:

The All-American Sound

What better way to extol the virtues of radio...than with radio? The National Association Of Broadcasters (NAB) uses a few different campaigns each year to do that. At least they used to. Some of the campaigns were downright catchy: singers, celebrities and even the brilliant Stan Freberg created great reminders to "take a portable radio along" or to enjoy "the sound of year-round pleasure."

Unfortunately, the specifics of this campaign are lost to history: no singer or production credits here. And frankly, this campaign's not as catchy as many others. Also, an all-American theme in the winter?

Radio commercial and PSA records get a little repetitive at times. For one thing, this one is the same on both sides so if a track on one side gets damaged, it could be dubbed to tape from the other side. For another, these records contain variations on a theme: a minute-long cut, a :30, a :10, a :60 with a "donut" (there's a hole in the middle that the station fills with its own copy). I'll pare this down to the essentials: the full :60 and the :30 with the girl soloist. And I hope you'll enjoy them.

The full :60


The :30 with the female singer:

And The Countdown Spins On

It's really a shame what happened to Casey Kasem. there's not a lot more to be said about it than what already has been, so instead of dwelling on it, let's remember Casey for his most famous accomplishment.

It started on the 4th of July weekend of 1970 as more or less a modern-day hit parade of the top songs as played by radio stations. It grew into one of the most popular, most syndicated radio shows in existence. And over 40 years and a couple of hosts later, American Top 40 rolls on.

If you're hungry for the history of American Top 40, I suggest you track down a book by Rob Durkee: it's simply titled Amreican Top 40: The Countdown Of The Century. It chronicles every major, and almost evey minor, event of the show's history: from the recording of the first one, which took about 24 straight hours; to Casey's departure and the saga of his replacement, Shadoe Stevens; to Casey's eventual return. Of course, the book's not cheap these days since vultures have latched on to the misguided idea that just because someone died, every piece of their memorabilia is worth infinitely more than it really is. (If you're one of those people, please. Just stop. Enjoy it for what it is because the true value of anything is not monetary. With that said...)

So how did great radio stations like [insert call letters and location of your local AT40 station] get the show? The first shows were distributed on reel-to-reel tape. But tape wasn't always the most reliable format and a lot of things could go wrong between duplication and airplay at the station. Plus, tapes got to be expensive. After about a year, AT40 was delivered on vinyl records packaged just like this:

As you can see, there are three records. Each one has a half-hour of the show per side. As you can't see, but could probably deduce from the numbering scheme, side A of each disc played first, then each B side. Radio stations were generally equipped with at least two turntables, and sequencing the sides this way made it easier for the DJ/board operator to do his job. Rather than having to flip sides, set the level (there's a 400 Hz test tone at the start of each side) cue up and maybe brush off a record during that final 2-minute commercial break, he could just start one disc and have lots of time to prepare the next one.

That sheet of paper is not signed with Casey's autograph. It's the signature of the guy at the radio station who ran the show on the weekend of May 27, 1972: Vince Weller. I don't know his whos or wherefores, but by his signing that paper, he proved to Watermark, American Top 40's production company, that the show did indeed air that week on whatever station he worked at.

If you look closer at the cue sheet, you can see the first few songs of the countdown. If you have SiriusXM Radio, or listen to select terrestrial or online radio stations (like those on tunein), you might actually be able to hear this exact countdown. And if you're a hardcore fan, you might actually be able to get your own copy through the company that restores the records of the shows, Charis Music Group.

In Casey's honor, here's a Top 5 countdown of great links to satisfy your thirst for knolwedge of AT40.

5. Charis Music Group
If you listen to AT40 on SiriusXM, these are the people to thank for making it sound as good as it can. They're an audio restoration company with loads of countdown shows and tons of passion for doing what they do.

4. Rob Durkee
Wrote the book on AT40. Literally. A lot of the info in Rob's book was taken directly from his experience working on the show. Read the blog for lots of facts and check out Today In AT40 History.

3. Tunein Radio
If you're listening online, here's Tunein's list of stations that carry  American Top 40 shows from the '70s.

2. American Top 40 Fun & Games
American Top 40 and more! Learn and discuss with other fans of AT40 in all its incarnations.

1. AT40.com
The official site of American Top 40. What's up this week? What's down? Who's happening? Stay current with Ryan Seacrest and the modern-day edition of Casey's baby.

Motown Goes To Motorp: A New Way to Store 45s

"Over there is a stack of vinyl/which is yours and which is mine/forty-five."
- Elvis Costello

Remember a few weeks ago I told you about those Sterilite containers I had my 45s in? And how I said they'd be a temporary thing? Well, sure enough, they were.

I'm lucky enough to live close enough to an IKEA to actually shop there on occasion, if not partake of the meatballs and lingonberries*. So for the first time in about three or four years, I did. I happened upon something called "Motorp." Motorp doesn't anagram into anything useful (mop rot? To prom?), but it is useful as storage decor. They're not far off in size from my Sterilites...but they look so much nicer. And yes, you can label them:


Like the Expedits you might use for albums, Motorps come in different sizes. There's a size that's a little smaller, but it has no lid. There's a bigger size that might tempt you into double-stacking your 45s inside if you could find something to serve as an internal shelf. This is the one Goldilocks said was juuuuuuuuuuust right.

It'll take a little bagel-finagling to find the right configuration for your records once they're in there. I have one row down the length of the box, and some stacked on one side perpendicular to them.

That's not just my sucky photograhy. There really is a purple record in there. Guess what it is.

As you can see, it's a little too small in either direction to do two complete rows. But such is the price of being able to use the cover. The bigger Motorp is too tall for my tastes, and like I said, the smaller one has no cover.

It's hard these days to find nice, protective storage for 45s that goes beyond sleeves. But I like to think I've just found it.

Keep the conversation going and tell me what you use for your 45s.


* There's just too damn many places to eat out here for me to eat at IKEA. If I have to go as far as the mall this IKEA is in (it's one of the mall's "anchor stores" if you can believe that), I usually go to Red Robin. Although today I had Smashburger, since I just discovered we have one now.

Video Vinyl: RCA's CED System

It's been just about 30 years since we've seen the last of a format called CED. Capacitance Electronic Disc, as it's more formally known, seems s strange subject for a blog about records. But once you learn what a CED is (if you're not already familiar), it'll all make sense.

CEDs work the same basic way that records do: a diamond stylus reads the grooves on a disc and translates the information into audio (and in CED's case, video). There are two differences: first, the grooves are much smaller on a CED (over 9500 per inch) so it spins much faster (450 RPM as opposed to 33 1/3 or 45). Also, CEDs are in plastic caddies for protection. The player extracts the disc from the caddy for playing. To watch the second side of the disc, you put the caddy back into the player to get the disc back, then flip the caddy over and insert it into the player again. Put the caddy back into the player one final time at the end of the movie to retrieve the disc again and store it until the next time you watch. It's a quaint system, even by early '80s standards.

That could be one of the reasons it only lasted three years. CED was intended for original release in the mid '70s. A change in the top at RCA, the company that invented CED, coincided with the need for further testing and research, and the confluence of events held CED's relesase back until early 1981. By that time, families were fighting over whether their first VCR should be VHS or Beta. That was another thing: you could record on a VCR. You could only play a CED.
It didn't help matters that at the exact same time RCA was working on CED, MCA was doing its own disc-based thing with help from dutch electronics conglomerate Philips. It was called DiscoVision. First demonstrated in 1972, DiscoVision beat CED to the market by three years...and stayed viable until the after the advent of DVD in the mid '90s. You know it better as LaserDisc...the format that gave us Karaoke.

RCA closed the book on CED in 1984 after losing a reported $500 million on the venture. Not two years later, RCA was merged with GE and sold off bit by bit. Today, the TV operations of RCA are part of South Korea's ON Corporation. The rest of the brand is owned by Audiovox.
There's still a contingent of groovy CED collectors out there, and I count myself among them. I don't have the biggest or best collection, but I do have one of the last CED players made and a few dozen movies to watch on it....when I'm not spinning vinyl the other way.

For more than you ever thought there was to know about CED, spend an hour or two (I'm serious - there a LOT there) at Tom Howe's glorious CED Magic site. You'll find complete lists of every player made and every disc produced. There are notes from those present at the creation and even a forum full of people who still keep their machines going.

The Cruisin' Years

I'm not sure about you, but this winter has sucked pretty hard for me. All that polar vortex crap (speaking of suck) has just about done me in. And it's made me seriously question my career choice, since the 24/7-ness of my job requires me to BE there in any weather.

Two workfriends just got back from cruises. They haven't told me what kind of entertainment they saw...but I bet it was nothing like what I'm gonna serve up for you right now. Time was, the only entertainment you had on your ship was some Italian band mixing it up with old "Amore Scusa' me"-type Italian songs and "now sounds." Maybe if the band kept you entertained enough on your cruise, you could get them to autograph their album for you as a memento to take home.

Then that band could maybe keep you entertained enough at home to fire up the old Astro-Sonic Magnavox once in a while.

Or not.

Hit any thrift store at any given time and you're bound to find at least one old cruise ship album there, autograhps and all. If you do, look 'em over. Sometimes you'll get 12 tracks of Amore Scusa' Mi...sometimes you'll get some surprises. I'm not at the stage yet where I can offer compilations, but I can offer you one track at a time for your picky-choosy pleasure. To christen this post, the Romy Formica Theme by...well, the Romy Formica Orchestra, silly! Who'd you expect? (And why's he named after the stuff your counter is made with?) Typical of the music you'd hear on a lot of cruise albums. Recorded underwater before a live audience. Or maybe just the audience was underwater:

A lot of cruise albums just have songs like The Donkey Song, from the cruise album kings, The Rolando's (The Rolando's what? You're killin' me here). WARNING: man-made animal sounds.

Some albums are more adventurous. Here's a foggy little version of Glen Campbell's hit By The Time I Get To Phoenix by Il Milionari:

Here's "Il Mil" again, with a colorful version of a Procol Harum hit. And so it was that later...they decided to sing in Italian.

Here they are doing a whole song in Italian. The song: Black Is Black, originally by Los Bravos - a Spanish group with a German lead singer. Singing in English.

Now, one of the world's shortest versions of Satisfaction, from Murolo-Salviati.

It's The Rolando's again, still with that apostrophe. But this time, maybe a little soul.

And finally, a real off-the-board choice, again by The Rolando's. I bet some of you don't remember the original. I forgot who did it when it hit in 1970 (and can't explain why I remember that). Turns out it was a group called Christie.

Bon Voyage!

Whither Expedit?

Word from the Huffington Post this week indicates that vinyl collectors' favorite shelf, the IKEA Expedit, is about to be no more. And a lot of us are not taking this news well. Facebook and Twitter are all lit up over this.

Why?

Basically, Expedit is the perfect record shelf. It has just the right amount of depth for 12" album covers, just the right height to make it easy to swipe an album from the top (handy for box sets), and more than the right number of configurations to suit any record collector.

I myself have two Expedits: a 4x2 and a 5x5, both fully loaded. They've been with me for about seven years now. The 5x5 has even been knocked apart and put back together for a move I made a few years ago. Still solid as Sears, despite the load on it. It should be: its raw weight is about 150 pounds. Each shelf can hold about 70 to 80 single albums. That's a LOT of music.

The 4x2 used to hold my LaserDiscs and CEDs (yep, I collect those too - look 'em up, kids) but was "converted" to vinyl storage. It's a perfect fit behind my love seat and would probably do well under a living room window of the right height if you choose not to stand it up.

In addition to the decor-friendly 2x4 and the economy-size 5x5, there are 2x2, 4x4, and single-cube sizes. Not to mention plenty of accessories, like doors and drawers. With that kind of versatility, you can probably understand why record collectors are not happy.

Expedit, IKEA says, is not really going away; just being replaced by a shelf called Kallax, which is apparently Swedish for something, like the inscrutable names of most IKEA things. It's claimed to use the same fittings and have the same internal dimensions...but the external sides are smaller. Naturally, with the weight we vinylites put on our Expedits, we can't help but be skeptical about how Kallax will hold up. Gizmodo reports that the reason behind the switch is to use less wood. As it is, IKEA uses 1% of the world's entire wood supply.

Kallax goes on sale April 1, but if you hurry, and you live close enough to an IKEA to grab one, you can still get an Expedit or two to house your vinyl.

Just don't come to me looking to rent space. I'm full up and my Expedits ain't goin' anywhere.

Weigh in:
What do you use for record-keeping, and what do you think about IKEA's move? Make a comment and get some dialogue going.

Sound On Film: The (Abridged) Story of 35mm Albums

I didn't quite get to AES in time to get to the story of the Peggy Lee album, but I did get to the story of 35mm film recording. And I learned a lot. For example:
- Classical music can be good. I liked an excerpt of a Mahler piece (Symphony No. 9 in D Minor) I heard during the demonstration.

- Queens may not be the cultural center of the world, but there was some fine music recorded there.

- I have to be more careful with what records I get rid of. One of the albums in the presentation was one I used to have.

The presentation was given by Tom Fine, whose parents both played significant roles in the history of 35mm recording: father Robert was an engineer who bought Everest's studio after Everest disbanded; mother Wilma worked for Mercury Records and oversaw its Living Presence series of classical albums from conception to its digital remastering in the '90s.

Cliffs Notes on 35mm sound: it started in the late '50s at Everest Records, a small label in Bayside, Queens. Its founders believed 35mm film was better because it was wider and thicker than standard audio tape of the day, and it ran faster (faster speeds = higher quality). It was also less prone to noise, like tape hiss.

Unfortunately, film was ridicuoulsly expensive, so Everest, which specialized in classical recordings, went under after only a few years. But bigger, better-resourced Mercury carried the torch for a few more years...and it blazed pretty brightly. Mercury's Living Presence albums were a marvel not only technically, but artistically.

On the heels of Mercury's success came 35mm albums from labels like Command, from the always-technically-forward Enoch Light, and Philadelphia-based Cameo/Parkway. Towards the end of the '60s, a turbulent time in general, things changed for 35mm..not the least of which was public taste. And the change in taste actually helped hammer the coffin shut for 35mm. The classical recordings typically done on 35mm, with their 3 microphones (or sometimes just one) over the orchestra, didn't need the editing, overdubbing or special tricks rock music did. Plus, improved tape formulations and the advent of technology like Dolby noise reduction rendered the advantages of 35mm moot.

But 35mm still lives on - barely. Time has not been kind to the reels of film recorded by Everest, Mercury, Command and Cameo-Parkway. Indeed, some have been lost forever, mainly due to improper storage conditions. There has been success in restoring Mercury's 35mm recordings. There are two sets of them now available on CD. The first might be out of print - it's now hideously expensive, but there's a second one available for a decent price, considering it contains about 50 CDs. But if you want it, you'd better act on it before the price goes up like it did with the first one. A few of the Living Presence albums have also been reissued on vinyl as well.

LINKS FOR FURTHER LEARNING
The story of Everest Records and Fine Recording Studios
Wilma Cozart Fine and Her Role in Mercury Living Presence
Mercury Living Presence box set at Amazon

Educational Field Trip to NYC

For once, I'll be on a trip where records aren't being purchased, but strictly learned about. I got late notice that the AES Convention is happening in New York this weekend (and of course, your notice is probably even shorter - sorry 'bout that).

If pro audio is a circle you travel in, AES needs no introduction. For the rest of you, AES is the Audio Engineering Society, an international organization of professionals dedicated to learning, teaching and innovating in all fields of recorded audio. They hold conventions twice a year, and they're massive - like an auto show for your ears. In fact, this AES is being held at a place where there's an auto show every year - the Jacob Javits Convention Center in Manhattan. Mnaufacturers will show their latest microphones, recording consoles, effects, and software. Some will even be hosting seminars. There are producers, engineers, and lots of big names in audio. One speaker manufacturer is even recruiting for jobs!

So what does this all have to do with vinyl?

Two things.

One is a presentation on an early stereo album. Peggy Lee's Jump For Joy was one of Capitol Records' first albums to be released in stereo. But it didn't originally get reissued to CD that way. Tomorrow, the mystery is revealed about how the proper stereo version of this album finally made its way to CD from the original tapes.

The other vinyl-centric feature deals with film. Yes, film. There was a time just after stereo was introduced when some engineers felt tape just wasn't up to the job of capturing evey detail of the dynamic performances they were recording. A small studio believed that 35mm film - the same type used for movies - could also be used to record music. The idea held promise...but tape made quick strides in quality during the '60s that left film behind. The rise and fall of 35mm film recording will be chronicled tomorrow.

AES runs through Sunday, October 21 at the Jacob Javits Convention Center in Manhattan. You can learn all about it at http://www.aes.org.

Contents May Vary From Illustration

One thing you learn as a record collector who buys (or finds for free) in places other than record stores is to always  - and I mean ALWAYS - check the record inside the cover. As in, take it out of the jacket and sleeve. It sounds first-grade, but some new folks to vinyl might assume that the record they're about to buy is a) automatically in put-it-on-the-platter-and-spin-it condition, and b) absolutely the one that's supposed to be in there.

But you know what happens when you assume...

One recent thrift trip, while not a complete disappointment, would have taught a lesser collector a lesson. Several rare-looking albums had masking tape with worn-out writing on them. It took a couple albums to discover that some skizzix (sorry, I don't know where that came from) swapped covers years ago, and none of the albums with this masking tape had the right record in it. Even the TWO copies of Manila Thriller's album.

Another trip yielded exactly ONE album I'd buy...but couldn't. It was the right record, but it was in the wrong condition. Sure, it'd probably play, but it'd sound like total crap because of all the wear. I might have bought it in a pinch, but I can afford to wait for a better copy. And with my luck lately, I'll probably find one soon. (If you're curious, the album was Dick Hyman's Age Of Electronicus, a 1969 Moog masterpiece from one of the most versatile and prolific keyboardists known to man.)

So there's your lesson, kids: look before you leap into that next score.

Where Attrition Is Tradition

See this?

This is a pile of records that's about on its way out of here. It's the third one this size I've assembeld this year, and it's in no small thanks in part to the huge amount of records I've found over the past couple of weeks. After this goes I think I'm just about even.

So what exactly is in here?

Not much of a lot of real dollar-and-cent value. I guess the most would be all the Melanie and Rod McKuen albums. Most of those are the original albums I started my modern collection with almost 20 years ago. Most of them are gone now and I forget more of them than I remember. That in itself tells you how much excess there's been. Some things I'm just not into, others I'd like to keep but their condition doesn't allow it. Quality over quantity.

Just like in the workplace, attrition is a necessary evil. Good people are let go, their positions aren't filled and life goes on for everyone else. Many large collections need to be filtered like this once in a while to keep things fresh and high-quality...and to keep a home from being overrun like this one.

Please, Lord, let me never love music that much.

If you ever go to a flea market later in the day and see a pile of records like this at an otherwise empty table:

You'd do well to check it out. This stash netted me about a dozen fine new listening choices. A couple are so new they're still sealed. The good camera is charging as I type this, so stay tuned for individual pictures and descriptions.

In the meantime, I mentioned I'd get into talking about equipment once in a while. Not 10 minutes into this foray, I spotted a pair of headphones. Despite being almost 40 years old, they still seem to hold their own. In fact, for about $100, you can still get a new pair. They're Koss Pro-4AAs. Mine were supposed to cost $5, but I got them from an interesting character who gave them to me for $3 because I don't live in Pennsylvania. I also got an extension cable because I "don't beat the children." The nice thing about a headphone as popular as these is that Koss still sells earpads for them. This pair will get some once I'm sure they're up to the job.

If you'll excuse me, I have a LOT of listening to do. And plenty of sunburn to recover from.

The Ins And Outs Of Record Collecting

This blog comes at a strange time...I'm talking about vinyl collecting as I prune my own collection. Sometimes things get a little out of control, and this is one of those times.

It's not an easy time. There are a lot of good albums I can listen to, a few bad ones...and some that are just plain ugly. To listen to as much as to see. Over the past few years, I've been finding better and better albums, and the ones that are not as better have regrettably gone by the wayside. Or to the thrift store.

Let me be honest: there's no market for what I feed the thrift stores. Do you know anyone who actively seeks out Ray Conniff, Ferrante & Teicher (on UA), Percy Faith, or god forbid, Lawrence Welk? That's most of what I donated in January. Yep...guilty. So if you hear about thrift stores having nothing but crappy records, you can thank me for that. I'm the reason they're there. And often, I'm the reason most of the good records you saw last time are gone. (In fairness, I'll say I've bought my share of crap, too. Sometimes, intentionally.)

So why is that, O Keeper Of Records?

I'm avoiding a comparison here. So suffice it to say there's a binge/purge cycle that involves more binging than purging. We go out and buy great new records to add to our collections, reach critical mass and realize we have to make room for the new stuff by parting with the old, maybe not-so-great stuff. Or maybe the just-as-great stuff we forgot about. The not-so-great stuff is easy. No value, no problem. But when you get the the stuff of value - the original versions of the songs Conniff covered - where do you draw the line? How much of your "all killer, no filler" collection really IS killer? Would life be any different without The Stranger* or that barely listenable copy of Some Girls you're only holding on to for the cover? And just how DO you get rid of those records that might actually be worth a dollar or two?

Know the limits, draw the lines. If you cut a little too deep, you'll heal. And to you aspiring collectors, let this be a cautionary tale about too much of a good thing.



* Anthony's Song (Movin' Out) is the first track on the Billy Joel album The Stranger. We used that album to learn the art of cuing turntables in college. I might talk about those days eventually. Good times.