vibes

My father had had his first Porsche for about a month (this was in the mid-80's) when someone walked around the parking lot at his office and sprayed some type of acid on every car there, ruining the paint on dozens of cars. Getting his car repainted with a comparable paint job cost over $5000. He was not a happy camper. Oh, and the vandals left a note on someone else's brand new car, saying "Sorry, I just couldn't resist."

I always check my email first thing, but have it downloaded through Microsoft Outlook, and thus can set my homepage as something else (yahoo.com).

Has anyone compared the JRVG to the Mosaic mastering? I had the TOCJ and ditched it after I compared it to the Mosaic, but might be willing to purchase this fine session again if the mastering is that great.

Congratulations, John.

STD's

Having had the Verve Elite of "Swingin' on the Town" for about a year has made me really excited about picking up this box - love that session! Funds have been tight for a little while, but I'm planning a large Mosaic purchase (3-4 large boxes and 2-3 Selects) for March or April, and the Eldridge box is at the top of the list. I think I'll also be buying: Tal Farlow Farmer-Golson Jazztet Dexter Gordon Select Andrew Hill Select ...and possibly a few others, like the Sarah Vaughn or Anita O'Day sets. Can't wait!

I've been having trouble getting song samples on the Mosaic site to play ever since they redesigned the site. I got the Andrew Hill Select samples to play tonight, but have had trouble with most of the other tracks I've tried to listen to. I really want to hear the Dexter Gordon samples, among other things. I'm using Firefox, but have also had trouble using IE. Anyone else having issues? Any recommendations for fixing this problem?

Short version: I work in inventory management. Long version: I work for a large retailer. I forecast the sales of certain product categories and then procure the inventory necessary to meet those sales forecasts. I also maintain the replenishment systems that keep our stores in stock. I'm hoping for a promotion soon. I had five interviews today, and I think those interviews went pretty well (my company requires that candidates interview for any job change or promotion, just like you would if you were coming from outside the company - kind of weird). If I get the job I want, I'll be a project lead responsible for working with consultants we've contracted with to design the forecasting and replenishment systems we'll be implementing over the next three years. Basically, I work for the man.

We got a box of pinatas last year, and they kicked ass. Highly recommmended

I didn't hear about Mosaic until I joined the BNBB in 2002 (I believe). I think my first two sets were the Sam Rivers and Curtis Fuller sets, which were quickly followed by the Horace Parlan and Hank Mobley sets.

Here's another vote for "Where is Brooklyn?" I've been wanting to hear this one for a very long time.

For anyone that likes the RCA Living Stereo SACD series, the second series of releases are available for pre-order at cduniverse.com, all for under $10. The two-disc Berlioz: Requiem is available for $8.39, which is probably a pricing error. Get it cheap while you can.

Your post inspired me to break this record ( B-) ) out for the first time in a long while. It's a good'n alright.... I pulled this one out and played it tonight as well. Mrs. vibes didn't even get upset. First time that's ever happened with Shepp on the stereo. Also played "On This Night," and have "Four For Trane" going right now. It's been too long since I listened to a Shepp record. His 60's Impulse stuff is great.

Listening to "Night Song" for the first time right now, and I'm really enjoying it - great music and excellent sound on this disc. I've heard a couple of the tracks before on compilations, so this disc isn't a complete surprise, but it's great nonetheless. I've always liked Kenny's Verve sides the best, so I'm happy to have more. "Asphalt Canyon Suite" is up next.

From today's Wall Street Journal: Tale of the Tape: Audiophiles Bemoan The End of the Reel As Quantegy Shuts Plant, Purists Snap Up Supply; NASA Feels the Crunch By ETHAN SMITH and SARAH MCBRIDE Staff Reporters of THE WALL STREET JOURNAL January 12, 2005; Page A1 Jeff Tweedy, leader of the rock group Wilco, prefers to record music on reel-to-reel tape rather than on the digital equipment that has overtaken the music industry. Purists like him think it confers a warmth and richness to recordings that a computer cannot. But last Friday, Mr. Tweedy hit a snag as he prepared for a session in Wilco's Chicago studio space: Nobody could find any of the professional-grade audio tape the band is accustomed to using. "I was under the impression that there was a shortage of tape in Chicago," Mr. Tweedy says. What he didn't yet realize was that the shortage is global. Quantegy Inc., which may be the last company in the world still manufacturing the high-quality tape, abruptly shut down its Opelika, Ala., plant on Dec. 31, leaving audiophiles in the lurch. Quantegy filed for Chapter 11 bankruptcy protection on Monday and hopes a restructuring will eventually revive its operations. But its future is uncertain, inasmuch as demand also is dwindling for its videotape. The news has set off a frantic scramble in the music industry as producers and studios seek to secure as much Quantegy tape as possible. By the middle of last week, most suppliers around the country had sold out their entire stocks of reel-to-reel audio tape. [Jeff Tweedy] The supply that remained came at prices rapidly escalating above the usual $140-per-reel wholesale price of Quantegy 2-inch tape. Walter Sear, a prominent New York studio owner, quickly snapped up 60 or 70 reels, some at prices that had ballooned by as much as 40%. "We'll have to change our approach to life without tape," Mr. Sear says. Quantegy is hearing from customers all over the world trying to secure the professional-grade tape. A Japanese musician e-mailed from Tokyo, eager to get more for a recording session. Richard Lindenmuth, Quantegy's president and chief executive, says he'll try to help. Some customers are trying to organize their own bailouts of his company. Andrew Kautz, president of the Society of Professional Audio Recording Services, called Mr. Lindenmuth Friday hoping to get a one-time special order, a request Mr. Lindenmuth is considering. The crunch reaches far beyond the recording industry. The National Aeronautics and Space Administration uses Quantegy tape on its space shuttles to record information ranging from pressure to temperature. This week NASA has been trying to buy 20 reels from Quantegy. Even Hollywood is affected. Some die-hard moviemakers believe voices sound better recorded on analog tape. In making "Spider-Man 2" and the Harry Potter movies, digital recording technology has taken the front seat, but backups of dialogue were recorded on reels of Quantegy tape. Engineers are also worried about how long digital recordings will last. Tape was used to record most music after World War II. In the heyday of tape recording, it was common for rock bands with big recording budgets to run through hundreds of reels of tape in making just one album. But over the past decade, the tape has been rapidly outmoded by cheaper, more convenient computer-based digital recording. People in the music industry say that as few as 5% of albums are recorded and mixed using audio tape. The purists have a romantic attachment to the taping process. "It's a much more musical medium than digital could ever dream of being," says Joe Gastwirt, a mastering engineer who has worked with the Grateful Dead and others. "It actually does something to the music." Most of the industry gravitated to the cheaper digital technique, however, transforming tape from a commodity to a boutique item. That changeover has wiped out a once-hardy field of competitors. Quantegy was founded shortly after World War II by John Herbert Orr, a former Army major who called the company Orradio Industries. Ampex Corp., a maker of recording equipment, bought Orradio in 1959 and renamed it Ampex Magnetic Tape. Over the years, Quantegy went head-to-head with various competitors, including European brands like Emtec Magnetics and BASF. But as the market began to fall off, Ampex decided to get out of the tape business in 1995, and spun off Quantegy that year. As computer technology overtook the recording industry in the late 1990s, Quantegy's competitors bailed out. Some tapes are manufactured in China, but audio professionals generally don't consider them to be of consistently high quality. Quantegy's audiotape business in 2004 was still profitable, accounting for $6 million of the company's $30 million in sales. But the company fell into trouble because of other obligations and when Quantegy lost one of its major videotape customers in July, it suffered a cash crunch. By year's end, it couldn't meet payroll and sent its employees home. Mr. Lindenmuth believes an injection of $10 million would save the company, and is hoping a Chapter 11 reorganization will give him time to find investors. When Wilco's Mr. Tweedy found himself in a bind, he telephoned Steve Albini, a Chicago producer and studio owner who is known for his work with Nirvana and the Pixies. Mr. Albini's Electrical Audio Recording is one of the last major studios in the country to rely exclusively on audiotape. Mr. Albini had been stockpiling tape for more than a year, worried that the end of manufacturing was near. But when Quantegy closed its doors, he redoubled his efforts to secure as much as possible. Working through normal sources, he tracked down around 65 reels, enough to make about 10 albums. He also began "looking in the weeds," as he puts it. He tracked down contacts who buy odd lots of electronic equipment on the salvage market. Through one, Mr. Albini hit the mother lode: nearly 2,000 reels of 2-inch magnetic tape, enough to fill a small warehouse. Mr. Albini bought 100 reels and is trying to keep the supplier's name and whereabouts to himself. He says he doesn't want to see a better-funded competitor move in on the remaining stock. Mr. Albini estimates he now has a year's worth of tape, or about 500 reels, on hand. So when Mr. Tweedy called last Friday, Mr. Albini volunteered two reels of tape -- as "a professional courtesy." But, he says, "I don't want to go into business supplying tape to people." Looking ahead to a tape-starved future, Mr. Tweedy has a fallback: The band has an archive of around 100 reels of tape it has used in recording its various albums. By splicing out and saving the final version of each song, he figures they can maintain the archive and also generate a supply of tapes that can be recycled for future recording sessions. Still, Mr. Tweedy jokes, if the tape scarcity continues, even some of the archived recordings might become expendable. "I'm just fearful that all the master tapes at the loft would be worth more if they were blank," he says.

My feelings exactly. Very pretty, but annoying personality.

I find that most noise-canceling headphones don't sound that great without the noise-canceling circuit turned on. And yes, almost all (if not all) noise-canceling headphones are designed to block out the types of low-frequency noises caused by things like jet engines. If you're looking to block out your noisy co-workers, noise-canceling headphones aren't really going to get the job done.

You're in luck. I'm the person the does headphones purchasing for the chain. As far as sound quality goes, the Philips HN100 are the best of the lot at our stores, in my opinion. The HN050's are pretty good as well (I own both models). The Aiwa's sell the best, if that means anything. If you're willing to spend more, we carry the Sennheiser PXC250's on our website, which are the most comfortable and best-sounding noise-canceling headphones I've heard under $200. Above that, Bose QuietComfort2's are pretty impressive, but they retail for around $300. Best Buy doesn't carry them in store or on the website. PM me if you have more questions about Best Buy's headphones selection.

Cilantro is wonderful with fried noodles or various forms of Indian food.

Thanks for reminding me about these two CD's. I just ordered them both from Red Trumpet.

Cutting back CD purchases is my primary goal for the year. I've got a huge backlog of music I need to listen to (at least 100 discs), and buying music is beginning to feel more like a burden than a pleasure. Also, I plan on going back to school in the spring of 2006, and it would be nice to have the extra money that I would save from not buying how ever many discs it is that I've been buying per year for the last few years (probably 300-400 per year).

Yes! Love that one, and just found a copy of the CD I first heard it on many years ago.

Between my wife and me, we got: Disney Complete Pluto Set (I think it's 1930-47 or something like that) Return of the King Extended Edition Dave Ace Ventura: Pet Detective You've Got Mail The Bourne Supremacy Everybody Loves Raymond, season two Mary Poppins (I hate Mary Poppins )

Got shafted on the Mosaics I wanted this year. My wife says she's tired of buying me CD's.

This article appeared in yesterday's Wall Street Journal: Jammed Full of Great Jazz, Thanks to Norman Granz By JOHN MCDONOUGH December 22, 2004; Page D8 It's in the nature of a folk art that it should have a Lost Past, a historical vacuum where legends may thrive unfettered by inconvenient facts. In jazz, one of the more carefully nurtured myths concerns the jam session, the musical business of a remarkable new CD collection from Verve, "The Complete Norman Granz Jam Sessions." Early jazz writing in the 1930s romanticized the jam session as a kind of secret society. Few outsiders had access. Inside lay the authentic essence of the real thing -- an uncorrupted music that was improvised, spontaneous and played purely for the pleasure of other musicians. There were stories of young Louis Armstrong jamming in smoky Chicago joints until 5 a.m., playing chorus after chorus, each more spectacular than the one before. Another story had Lester Young playing 83 choruses on "Sweet Sue" in a Detroit jam session. Hidden from public view deep in the midnight underground of the jazz netherworld, the tales were romantic, heroic and, best of all, unverifiable. Not that musicians didn't play for their pleasure in private. They did and they do. But I'll let you in on a secret. The reality usually falls well short of the myth. Over 35 years, I've seen a handful of what I would call real backroom jam sessions involving prominent musicians. They were more like relaxed rehearsals. Someone might kick off a tune and others would fall in at their leisure. After a few choruses they might grow bored and let it peter out in the middle of a solo. The jam sessions I saw were like rambling scavenger hunts in search of a spark. Maybe, by some accident of chance, everything would click. Maybe it wouldn't. You got what you got, including false starts and dead ends. It was an interesting glimpse into the process, but too slapdash for a public whose expectations have been prejudiced by rose-colored hyperbole about encounters that may or may not have happened 10,000 midnights ago. When jazz became popular in the late 1930s, fans wanted in on jam sessions. Radio staged some lively broadcasts, and Benny Goodman organized the first Carnegie Hall jam session in 1938. In the late 1940s, dedicated impresarios such as Norman Granz and Gene Norman institutionalized jam sessions, branded them, and toured them with huge success. But as the jam session was observed by outside eyes in concert halls, it lost its innocence. Self-aware and unwilling to risk public failure, the jam session became a kind of theater. There were attempts to capture the jam session on record. But they were even more stage-managed. The three- or four-minute tyranny of the 78 rpm record was too impatient to wait on the caprice of inspiration. The musicians had to know in advance what to look for and where to dig. Finally the long-playing record arrived and the time barrier was tamed. By the early 1950s, the jam session was off and running. For the first time a recording could claim to catch the ebb and flow of improvised music wherever it led. Columbia had its Buck Clayton and Eddie Condon jam sessions. Capitol, Prestige, Blue Note, Vanguard and EmArcy all had their own. But none could field the kind of musical bench power that a small label called Clef had gathered in house. Clef's founder, Norman Granz, had virtually cornered the market on the reigning establishment of the swing and bop eras: Count Basie, Louis Bellson, Benny Carter, Buddy DeFranco, Roy Eldridge, Lionel Hampton, Illinois Jacquet, Charlie Parker, Oscar Peterson, Flip Phillips, Buddy Rich, Ben Webster and more. Each was at that golden median in life when maturity and vigor briefly intersect in their contrary journeys. Many had worked Granz's touring concerts, "Jazz at the Philharmonic," which systematized the jam session and turned out annual box sets of live performances before screaming fans. It was exciting music. But some jazz critics, suspicious of anything received so enthusiastically, turned up their noses, calling it grandstanding. So beginning in 1952 Granz began a series of mix-and-match jam sessions in the isolation of the studio. He would produce nine of these LPs by 1955, and they make up Verve's five-CD box set. "The Complete Norman Granz Jam Sessions" is as sleek a study of the form as you're likely to find. With the talent assembled, this is one you could take to a deserted island. Some self-consciousness may be lurking, but with a fickle irregularity. A perfect "What Is This Thing Called Love" carefully follows its own battle plan of solo allocations and ensemble riffs; while a wild, joy-riding "Jamming for Clef" is hot-blooded and volatile as Illinois Jacquet careens through nine choruses and Oscar Peterson fires off a ferocious stride chorus. But structure or lack of it never crowds the music or smothers surprise. Disc one gathers the three great alto sovereigns -- Charlie Parker, Benny Carter and Johnny Hodges -- in their only joint summit. Parker and Carter waft elegantly through slow blues on languorous pirouettes and arabesques that arch and plunge with a concealed tension. And hearing Count Basie and Buddy Rich engage each other with such wit on "Lady Be Good" is a priceless minimalist delight. Three long ballad medleys provide the calm between the storms. The list of such moments is long because, aside from the rhythm section, a jam session is rarely an integrated work but an anthology of self-contained musical essays, each with a distinct voice and its own exposition, climax and denouement. Each of these essayists knew his strengths and played straight to them. They were pros who, like the wise editor in "The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance," knew that when the legend becomes fact, you go with the legend. Mr. McDonough writes about jazz for the Journal.