Of the big three recording formats, streaming and vinyl get the most attention, but I think the CD should have more defenders. Besides being compact (as promised), and a truly hi-fi audio experience, the CD was the format that dominated my core years of musical growth and discovery. While I learned to collect music on vinyl, the CD emerged as I got through grad school and became the dominant way I obtained music for decades. Now I’ve listened and lived long enough to see the CD decline, but they comprise what I think of as the heart of my music collection, and I’ll never forsake the format.
I’ve been collecting since about 1990, and now I suppose I have almost 3,500 titles, shelved alphabetically in four groups: 1) pop/rock/Americana (the largest) 2) jazz 3) classical and 4) compilations/soundtracks/anthologies. Many were acquired on the job over 20+ years, through staff writing and freelancing and radio. Most were purchased new or used, in I guess roughly equal portion. I’ve never been hesitant to buy new CDs, but used bins have been my most important source of new knowledge about music overall. Taking chances on pre-loved music (as Grimey’s terms it) took me more unexpected places than any other pre-internet source. I trade in and out scores of CDs each year and have little room to add net new albums, but I do anyway. While I love my LPs, my CD collection is where you’d come to know me best.
So I got a notion to take this long grim winter as an opportunity to reacquaint myself with my my CD library and take public notes on what’s here and what it makes me think about. Not that the collection sits inert. I refer to it all the time for research and sometimes browse, but it’s easy to forget what you own and it’s interesting to revisit why you liked something enough to keep it. I want to hear some of the stuff that’s been sitting here for years, gathering proverbial dust, probably feeling unloved. With a job that’s about covering the new, there’s limited time for legacy music, but we’ll just see how this goes. This isn’t comprehensive by any means, just albums that strike me as overdue for a spin or particularly important to me. I’ll mostly go in ABC order, dipping in to the various bins according to whim. And with that, I pass over Roy Acuff and find the first album that gets me curious…
Johnny Adams - There Is Always One More Time
This Rounder Records Heritage anthology features new tracks cut for the label between 1983 and the artist’s death in 1998. This guy was a devastating, adaptable singer. He was a minor R&B star in the 50s and 60s and the ideal catch for Rounder as they sought out great but overlooked roots artists. Adams is diverse, cooing jazz, wise cracking double entendre blues and dripping honey on the poppier material. Scott Billington produced. So glad to have him back in my ears.
Red Allen - The Folkways Years 1964-1983
Kentuckian Harley “Red” Allen got into bluegrass in the first five years of the genre and is a Hall of Fame first generation pioneer. He spent time in the Osborne Brothers. Father of the late great singer and songwriter with the same name.
Addison Groove Project - Wicked Live 2
Pretty good but far from great acid funk jam from 2002 by a Boston post-college white dude band that played Bonnaroo. Not sure how I came by this but it does speak to my then-growing interest in brass band funk, leading me to Galactic and other greats.
Chava Alberstein - Foreign Letters
This 2001 release arrived at The Tennessean I’m pretty sure, and it was too dazzling to pass on. She’s apparently been a star in Israel since the 70s and has released more than 60 albums. Where this Yiddish language album stacks up in her oeuvre I don’t know, but it’s gorgeous.
Oscar Aleman - Swing Guitar Masterpieces 1938-1957
A two-disc set featuring the first N. American release ever of music by a great Argentinian hot swing jazz guitarist, produced by David Grisman for his awesome Acoustic Disc label. Mostly similar repertoire to Django Reinhardt but with some originals and special tunes. Grisman tells in the notes how he learned about Aleman in 1973 from his pal Jerry Garcia.
Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong - Porgy & Bess
I’ve long cherished this one, a fancy and pricey Japanese CD master with deluxe packaging. What matters though is the genius mingling of singers, orchestra and a couple of Gershwins. Perfection. 10/10.