Vinyl for The People

This week I’ve decided not to listen to any records.  I will clean, catalog, and organize them; just no listening.  As I write this, I’m using my underutilized Sonos bridge, fed to my preamp via optical cable.

If you have been reading for a little while, you know I love records.  In case Vinyl for The People wasn’t enough foreshadowing. I deny myself the pleasure of vinyl listening for six days. What will come of this, perhaps my head will implode from bits and bites? In which case, it was nice writing to you all.

Let me say that I am not anti-digital. I have a far more extensive digital collection than I do a record collection. The disparity between digital and analog is in part due to growing up during the golden age of Napster. I’ve bought hundreds of CDs, but some albums that didn’t pass the $19.95 value test in the early to mid-2000’s. Of those albums, the ones I cherished most are among records.

I could call this practice for shipping my belongings to San Diego. Leaving Hawaii is bittersweet, I’ll miss the Aloha, food, views, and people. Going back to the mainland has distinct advantages, Amazon Prime, pizza delivery (Dominos nor Papa Johns deliver to our house), a variety of record stores, airfare. But some things are worth more than others.

Being in the military brings a unique point of view. I’ve done my share of stuff begrudgingly. A transoceanic move from New Hampshire to Hawaii, transferring to a different submarine because they “needed” me, and cleaning up real “shit” under the sinks in my kitchen (Galley for you Navy types). What I’m saying is San Diego is not a place I would like to avoid. My girlfriend, however, is not coming with her sailor.  Choosing to come when she feels is right. While saddened by this fact, I am glad that we talked about that before we go to the juncture of moving.  That is a story with a few parallels surrounding my ex-wife. I’ll make due.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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As always, keep spinning.

–Tom

The last time I was here, there was an overturned truck blocking the 5 North freeway, and I hadn’t driven in LA traffic in years.

Not the easiest Roadtrip…

Hope you enjoyed the video!

It’s around 5:30, I had a pretty good day. Hopefully, you did too. While having a before dinner drink, I heard Otis calling me from the shelf. Asking me to let him sing out the day, and take my thoughts to the lovely sunset that was soon coming.  I picked this album up for the second time about nine months ago, an RSD (Record Store Day) release with the album in stereo and mono, plus a 45.

I grew up in homes filled with music.  My grandad listened to (on repeat) Clarence Carter and Denise LaSale.  My dad loved Janet Jackson, Mary J. Blige, and Chaka Khan. While mom preferred  The O’Jays, Kenny G, and Anita Baker.  My tastes in music have always been eclectic.  My first CD, Dr. Dre – The Chronic; led to some ass whippings.  I learned to appreciate headphones, quickly.

In my teens, I would go to pawn shops and buy CDs with song titles and cover art that spoke to me. This method of shopping led to some pleasant digs, Billy Joel, Journey, Mint Condition, Santana, etc. I went to High School in Washington, DC. My high school had less than one white student, something that never actually crossed my mind during my time there, as my neighborhood was reflective of the same. Music doesn’t know such boundaries, though. I had my first taste of understanding that when Frazier O’Leary shared, Sympathy for The Devil with my AP Literature class. We were asked to interpret the lyrics.

DC has a unique genre of music, Go-Go. Similar to improv hip-hop, but unique with heavy African drums, Rototoms, and was typically covers of popular songs. Leaving DC for Blacksburg, VA was a shock in more ways than one. There weren’t any buildings, bustle, or blacks as the name might have suggested; there was music, though.

The first time I listened to the Blues was at Virgina Tech in 2002. My roommate loved Son House; the recordings were rough, and I couldn’t get past that. The Blues weren’t that famous in my mother’s house, though  my grandfather had a deeper affinity. In Berringer Hall they became everything.  It was the combination of being on my own, underage drinking, and being surrounded by woods. Perhaps the young love I was experiencing…whatever it was, Stevie Ray Vaughn, B.B King, and Muddy Waters found a heavy rotation with me.  Odd for a teen from DC, huh?

I loved real instruments, probably has something to do with my love of Mint Condition.

I’ve been at this post for a while, now I’m listening to:

While living in San Diego, I used to eat at Croce’s pretty regularly. I was walking distance from my Gas Lamp apartment and the jazz drew me right in, but it took about six months to learn this was the man the restaurant was named after. Ingrid Croce opened it in memory of her late husband in 1985, a couple of years after he died in a plane crash.

This album chokes me up, every time and on that note, I think I’m finished writing for the night.

As always, Keep spinning.

Aloha,

Tom

Only one word comes to mind when you arrive at the DMV, and the line is out the door before 8:30 AM…Fuck.

 

California Department of Motor Vehicles; not to be confused with what some people are calling the area surrounding and including DC. The two experiences couldn’t be any different unless you’re talking about the DC DMV in which case I can draw a parallax. It took me three hours to get an ID card in 1998. So…I’m at the actual DMV, updating the address on my license. I figure knowing my affinity for Southern California isn’t waning anytime soon…might as well go ahead and put a Hawaii address on my California license. Besides, I don’t want a rainbow on my ID; I’m not McLovin. Well not entirely.

he reception was awful inside, so record buying turned into blog writing.  Most people don’t have their experience at the DMV turn into a pleasant one.  Of course, you’re glad you got your documents, tags, or test completed.  But how often do you have an engaging conversation about a topic that you’re passionate?  Sandy (the clerk that updated my info) and I talked about records and wearing glasses.

When she told me she had a Crosley, I didn’t wince or cringe.  I’m glad that people are getting involved with records at any level.  I told her she’d be upgrading, but what was most meaningful was maximizing her enjoyment from her current setup.  I asked did she have the quintessential record cleaning tools.  Sadly, she did not. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, click here.  I shared some tips and gave her a card. So if you’re reading this Sandy, Aloha!

Speaking of loving, I have thoroughly enjoyed the time spent in “America’s Finest City” which is also my favorite city. There has been great food, comedy, long walks, sunsets. I have checked most of my mandatory boxes, but I have not bought any records.

This is due to three reasons:

1. My new piece of luggage isn’t big enough – a week here took about as full of a suitcase as I would pack to avoid overcrowding. I have a sincere sense of loathing for ironing, steaming, and pressing. Not skills that were in the queue when it came time to choose life skills. I pack accordingly. Neatly folded and organized is how I like my luggage.

2.  I like to carry on my records. Treating them like the precious cargo, they are getting strapped in on their way home from the record store; this is as close as I’ve gotten to caring for children.  Their wellbeing is in my best interest.  I haven’t seen anyone check their children; yet.

3.  I haven’t visited  Stereo Unlimited, which houses an excellent record room. I say “room” because they are not a record store. They are a Hi-fi shop that’s been serving San Diego for 33 years, and where I picked up more than a few components of my system.

Walk down a dimly lit hallway, as you pass by rooms full of top notch gear…and at the end of the hall on the right is what you see in the video above.  You can find all of the contemporary audiophile pressings from nearly every label, and a good selection of classical, jazz, and rock.  If you’re looking for hip-hop this isn’t your shop (they do special orders though).

Here are my digs:

 

 

So when you find yourself in “America’s Finest City”, stop by Stereo Unlimited and tell them Tom sent you; with Aloha.

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As always, keep spinning.

 

–Tom

 

 

 

Here we are again, a couple of days late.  Sorry for the wait. Let me tell you a bit about why I’ve been behind.

In October of this year, I’m leaving Hawaii. Headed to beautiful San Diego, a place that I thought I would always call home. The birthplace of my love affair with Hi-Fi and home to the roads I learned to ride a motorcycle. All of that sounds great, but I have to prepare for my journey. There’s going to be some time spent without being able to listen to records. Gladly, I have a decent portable digital setup that I’ll talk about in another post.

In short, I haven’t focused on publishing the videos that I take so much time to record and for that I’m sorry. Now that is out of the way, onto the album.

Black Radio 2.

I love all the tracks on the album and find it in a good rotation on my systems (car, phone, record). It’s pretty hard to pick a favorite track on the album as it has so many great ones, but if I have to choose one, it’s Let It Ride featuring Norah Jones. “I’ve never been a gambler; I stay on the safe side…so I know I’m alright.” The first line spoke to me at a trying time. I was trying to be as free from baggage as possible. I hankered to be light. The rest of the song spoke to the lover of me, though; I longed for that kind of fear free love.

Pretty excited for the next release from the Experiment, they are taking their sound in a different direction. If you enjoyed this post, leave a comment. I love hearing your feedback. Until next time.

Keep Spinning.

–Tom

Hello, vinyl lover!  In my recent post about Blue Note Hawaii, I talked about another article coming soon.  I had the chance to sit down with Marco Olivari, General Manager of Blue Note Hawaii.  We talked about a few thing…all of which you can see in the video below.  Take a look!