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The Pioneer CT-W208R double auto-reverse cassette deck plays tapes(!), offers all sorts of unnecessary conveniences (like Fast-Forward and Reverse), costs $194, and is available NOW.
The Onkyo TA-RW255 dual auto-reverse cassette deck plays tapes(!), offers all sorts of unnecessary conveniences (like Fast-Forward and Reverse), costs $199, and is available NOW.
The TEAC W-600R double auto-reverse cassette deck plays tapes(!), offers all sorts of unnecessary conveniences (like Fast-Forward and Reverse), costs $149, and is available NOW.
The Sony TC-WE475 dual auto-reverse cassette deck plays tapes(!), offers all sorts of unnecessary conveniences (like Fast-Forward and Reverse), costs $149.95, and is available NOW.
Perhaps impatience is my fatal flaw, the thing that keeps me forever this close to complete and undying happiness, but never quite there. I’m impatient. About certain things. I’m impatient, for instance, about acquiring a cassette deck. My cassette collection is growing large. My colorful cassettes sit on my little footstool, waiting to be played, looking at me like what the hell. What the hell?
My friends tell me to wait for a Nakamichi CD-1. It’s got that thing you need. And it’s really good. It’s, all things considered, the only deck to get. I almost had one, too. On a…
I love my job, I love my office, I love a whole lot of other things. But, when the sun is shining through my living room windows the way it was this morning, it is very hard to leave home.
Home.
Here you can see some compact discs, some records, some books, some pictures, and some other stuff. The system:
DeVore Fidelity Gibbon 3 loudspeakers on Target stands (Because my first love remains my true love.)
Rega P3-24 turntable with RB301 tonearm, Elys phono cartridge, and outboard power supply
Exposure 2010S CD player
Exposure 2010S integrated…
A group of people sit along an old, grimy bar, doing things. Watching, waiting, aspiring. Every single one of them, in one way or another. Watches, waits, aspires. One of them—the strangest looking one of all—is a black dude with hair like the wind through a California Cypress. Eyes like two half moons. With more care and concern than any of the others, he watches. He watches the man on stage, a fellow named Henry Vestine. Henry is playing guitar, bass, and drums all at once, all by himself.
The black dude, as he watches, senses something, senses someone…
There is a proper procedure for taking advantage of any investment.
Music, for example. Buying music is an investment.
To get the maximum you must
Music, for example. Buying music is an investment.
To get the maximum you must
LISTEN TO IT FOR THE FIRST TIME UNDER OPTIMUM CONDITIONS.
Not in your car or on a portable player through a headset.
Take it home.
Get rid of all distractions (even her or him).
Turn off your cell phone.
Turn off everything that rings or beeps or rattles or whistles.
Make yourself comfortable.
Play your LP.
LISTEN all the way through.
Think about what you got.
Think about who…
If you’re a fan of John Fahey—a fan of his music, his writing, his thoughts on life, whatever—and especially if you’re sort of sad, like I am, about having never met him, then you’ll enjoy this disc. The Three Day Band is Fahey and musician Ayal Senior who, in addition to capturing Fahey on four-track here, also edited much of Fahey’s second collection of stories, Vampire Vultures. (Senior’s also got a bunch of good-looking cassettes available.)
Ayal Senior jumped in a car with John Fahey and a couple of pretty girls and headed back to Fahey’s little room at the…
It’s been nearly a week since PBS’ broadcast of the White House concert of music from the civil-rights era, and its sounds and images keep popping up in my brain.
The Blind Boys of Alabama (now old but still feisty men) singing “Free At Last,” the Freedom Singers testifying “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me ’Round,” Natalie Cole putting a surprisingly spirited cover on “What’s Goin’ On,” the very sight—shivering, for someone like me who remembers those times—of watching these people singing these songs a few hundred yards from where some of them sang in protest not quite a half-century ago…