Robert Baird

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Robert Baird  |  Mar 20, 2017  |  0 comments
And finally there were the Scottish bands . . .
Robert Baird  |  Mar 19, 2017  |  10 comments
"If you tried to give rock'n'roll another name, you might call it 'Chuck Berry.'"—John Lennon
Robert Baird  |  Mar 19, 2017  |  0 comments
Space Soul Rock in Austin. . .
Robert Baird  |  Mar 18, 2017  |  34 comments
Can high-resolution audio become "The New Cool?"
Robert Baird  |  Mar 18, 2017  |  9 comments
Women are bringing much-needed new energies to music of all kinds
Robert Baird  |  Mar 17, 2017  |  18 comments
"Crafted out of aluminum and coated with nitrocellulose lacquer, this truly fascinating object is the ultimate analog medium."
Robert Baird  |  Mar 15, 2017  |  0 comments
The Heart Collectors are an Australian band with a positive message.
Robert Baird  |  Mar 11, 2017  |  1 comments
Sun Ra recordings take time to absorb through the ears, heart, and brain. The emotional osmosis necessary to process his multi-faceted explorations, which most often fall under the heading of jazz, but are really a music unto itself, can take a while. Hence, after much listening to Modern Harmonic's 3-LP set, recorded in 1991 at the Inter-Media Arts Center in Huntington, NY and featuring the Arkestra in good form, it's time to declare this Record Day release a triumph.
Robert Baird  |  Mar 07, 2017  |  0 comments
One is a well-established reissue label, known the world over for its completist black boxes filled with beautifully remastered jazz recordings from the 1930s through the 1960s.

The other is a new label that records only new jazz, released in elaborate packages that include a poem and original artwork, not to mention transparent 180gm pressings, tying into the newly fashionable idea of a vinyl lifestyle.

In both cases, hope truly springs eternal.

Robert Baird  |  Mar 04, 2017  |  5 comments
Call me perverse, or perhaps I've just been around too many musicians for too long, but the part of Exhibitionism, The Rolling Stones traveling show that I liked best was the very opening display in which you walk into a facsimile of the apartment that the five band members once shared in London when they were starting out. You could almost smell the rotting garbage and unwashed socks and underwear.

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