This is the 7th studio album by Pink Floyd. That seems impossible, but it’s true. Seven was a good number, musically, for the band. After several listens I have decided that it will become one of my essential records, a Go-To album for when I’m feeling down. The track by track overview that follows is compiled from the notes I took during my first several listens.
Guys, i wrote a thing. Please read it and let me know what you think.
(and you can find Analog Revolution on tumblr, too.)
1960s HMV Store | 363 Oxford Street, London | Electrical Appliances, Stereophonic Players, & Vinyl Records
HMV stands for His Master’s Voice, the title of a painting by Francis Barraud of the dog Nipper listening to a cylinder phonograph, which was bought by the Gramophone Company in 1899.
Wow. I wish. That this was our store. It’s so pretty.
This band opened for The Kills and Jeff The Brotherhood when they played their most recent tour.
The lead singer is a tiny blonde girl with a pixie cut. She spent most of her time on stage on her knees, grinding against the lead guitarist. This is not a bad thing.
The music is catchy. It has a pop/punk feel to it, but in a sincere and entirely unironic way. It feels familiar, even the first time you listen to it. (at least it did for me. )
Insound has the vinyl for $12. Anyone want to get it for me, for my birthday?
I used to buy a lot of MP3s. I don’t anymore. That’s not to say I don’t listen to MP3s. I have about 10,000 of the little guys squeezed like vienna sausages into my iTunes music folder, and I listen to them a lot. But when I buy music today I buy it on vinyl. I’m no audiophile, no retro hepcat, but my ears tell me that music sounds better on vinyl - warmer, more nuanced, less shrill - and I make it a point to listen to my ears. Also, I’ve rediscovered the pleasures of looking at the art work on record jackets. Thumbnail images are pretty weak substitutes. In fact, they suck.
But the decisive factor in the transformation of my purchasing behavior, as a marketer would say, wasn’t aesthetic. It was the decision by record companies to start giving away a free digital copy of an album when you buy the vinyl version. Hidden inside the sleeve of a new record, like a Cracker Jack prize, is a little card with a code on it that let’s you download the digital files of the songs, often in a lossless format, from the record company. So I no longer have to choose between the superior sound and packaging of vinyl and the superior mobility of digital. When I’m near my turntable, I spin the platter. When I’m not, I fire up the MP3s.
Buy the atoms, get the bits free. That just feels right - in tune with the universe, somehow.
» via Rough Type
I frequently take this a step further. If I own a physical copy of something, be it a cassette, a CD, an LP, a book, or a magazine, I do not hesitate to download a digital copy (through less than official channels, if that is my only option.)
I paid for it. I own it. Right? (Well, no. Most copyright lawyers would disagree. But seriously, it’s kind of a ridiculous argument.)
Fleet Foxes Helplessness Blues came in the mail today.
What table is that? It’s beautiful. (And don’t skimp on the details, if you have them. I’m due for an upgrade soon, and if that’s not $1000 or more it might just be the winner)
That’s a Pro-ject debut RPM 1.3 mounted with an Ortfon 2M Red Moving Magnet Cartridge. It is available from NeedleDoctor.com for right around $500.
Looks like I have a reason to start saving money again. (my realistic system is jealous)
This is a british 45. You can tell from the green writing around the edges (at a glance) or from the words “Mfd. in U.K.” under the copyright date.
British 45s sound great.
I have a copy of the American version of the “Paperback Writer/Rain” single and a British copy. They are both spotless, clean, and well cared for. The American copy is noisy. It just has a lot of surface noise. You don’t really notice it when you listen to it, and it sounds good. If it was the only copy I had ever heard, I wouldn’t be complaining.
But then I put on the UK copy. And there just isn’t any surface noise. It is dead quiet. The music is clearer and their is no noise behind it. No hiss, no crackle, just a perfect fucking single.
I hope that, one day, the singles and LPs we’re pressing at Analog Revolution sound as good as the one coming out of the UK in the 60s and 70s did.
Curators and scientists worked together to recover the audio recorded on Alexander Graham Bell’s earliest records, recorded at his Washington, D.C., Volta Laboratory. Carlene Stephens, a curator of the National Museum of American History, sought out scientists at the Lawrence Berkeley National Laboratory in Berkeley, California, who had figured out how to play back sound from a 1860 phonautograph recording. They worked with the Smithsonian to recover the sound from Bell’s recordings by using a 3D camera to create depth images of the surface of the record. With audio software to recreate the waveforms, we can now listen to recordings from the 1880s. This short documentary was produced by Ryan Reed for Smithsonian magazine, and you can read more about the history and listen to more audio files on the magazine’s site.
» via The Atlantic
Bo Diddly/I’m a man
Shelac/Clay 78 RPM single. Circa 1955.
This is one of my favorite pieces from my personal collection. Pressed into a remarkably brittle clay, this is the quintessential song of early rock and R&B.
I’ve been sitting on this one for a while. I picked it up a few years ago at an estate sale, because it was too awesome to pass up, but I’ve never owned a record player that was designed for playing 78s.
I’ve still got it. I’ve only listened to it twice, the first time shortly after I purchased it, the second time last night as I recorded audio samples using a friends turntable. To be frank, it was amazing. 78s sound… just different. What they lack in fidelity they make up for in character, in force. They transform familiar songs into something wholly other.
On the table we used it played through without skipping. It was a bit noisy, but that is the way of these things. As I said, I’ve recorded some audio samples, and I will post them soon.
I honestly don’t want to get rid of it. I’m even less inclined to upon hearing it again, but I can’t justify keeping it without the ability to listen to it.
I’m planning on selling it, but I’d like to avoid eBay and the like. It’s a really cool, and rather obscure find, and I thought I’d give the folks here at tumblr the first crack at it.
I’m asking $50 for the record, plus shipping. We can handle payment through paypal or google checkout.
More photos (and an audio sample) available upon request.
And if my advertising has offended your delicate sensibilities, let me know that too. I don’t want to alienate any of my followers.
Karen Elson - The Ghost Who Walks
I am firmly of the opinion that John Mayall is the greatest curator of Rock Guitarists of all time. The man himself was never exceptionally famous. If it wasn’t for the people he played with, I might not even know he of him. (Which is a shame, he is a fantastic musician that frequently played with some kickass bands) He has discovered, groomed, and let go, more rock musicians than anyone else that I know of.
I found this “Family tree” in an album that I purchased today (John Mayall and Some Memorable Men—Back to the Roots.) I thought it too perfect not to share.
The text on the left reads:
This genealogical tree purports to show, by way of its branches, the musicians who played in the various Mayall bands over a period of seven years. Below is a list of their names and where their individual careers led them. Due to the ever-changing movement of musicians from group to group this tree is only up to date to the beginning of 1971. The roots and the tree remain stable, but the branches will always be growing, spreading, and producing new offshoots.
Larry Taylor & Harvey Mandel (1971) – with the current Mayall band
Sugarcane Harris (1971) – Solo career
Jon Mark & Johnny Almond (1970) – a band called Mark-Almond
Steve Thompson (1970) – open for business at this time
Alex Dmochowsky (1970) – with Peter Green
Colin Allen (1969) – Stone The Crows
Mick Taylor (1969) – The Rolling Stones
Jon Hiseman (1968) – leader of Collosseum
Tony Reeves (1968) – Collosseum
Dick Heckstall-Smith (1968) – Collosseum
Andy Fraser (1968) – The Free
Keef Hartley (1968) – leader of the Keef Hartley Band
Henry Lowther (1968) – Keef Hartley Band
Chris Mercer (1968) – Juicy Lucy
Peter Green (1967) – a wandering minstrel
John McVie (1967) – Fleetwood Mac
Mick Fleetwood (1967) – Fleetwood Mac
Aynsley Dunbar (1966) – The Mothers Of Invention
Eric Clapton (1965) – Derek And The Dominos
Jack Bruce (1965) – Tony Williams’ Lifetime
Roger Dean (1965) – Whereabouts unknown
Hughie Flint (1964) – McGuinness-Flint
Musicians who played in the earlier bands during the pre-1964 period included Bernie Watson, John Werder, Jeff Kirbit, Martin Hart, Peter Ward, Brian Mayall…