While Mercury gets all the 35MM audiophile glory, Everest also produced a series of sonically spectacular LPs, many recorded on 35MM magnetic film by the late engineer-turned audio columnist Bert Whyte. The advantages of sprocketed 35MM magnetic film are zero “print-through,” minimal “wow and flutter,” higher signal to noise ratio and wider dynamic range than conventional ¼” or ½” recording tape.
Presaging the "Christian rock" phenomenon of the 1990's, this Farfisa-filled fire and brimstone exercise in religious guilt asks where you will hide when Armageddon happens and your personal judgment day is at hand.
This Glasgow-based pop band, led by lead singer and songwriter Tracyanne Campbell produces breezy, tuneful string-driven pop confections bathed in near-cavernous reverb. So great is the reverb that what are real strings sound like synth ones. Oh, well.
The Graham Engineering 1.5 tonearm, originally introduced in 1990, was a thoughtfully executed design that logically addressed all of the basics of good tonearm performance—geometry, resonance control, rigidity, dynamic stability—with effective, sometimes ingenious ideas, while providing exceptional ease and flexibility of setup. Over time, designer Bob Graham came up with ways to significantly improve the 1.5's performance, including the replacement of its brass side weights with heavier ones of tungsten, an improved bearing with a more massive cap, various changes in internal wiring, a far more rigid and better-grounded mounting platform, and a new, sophisticated ceramic armwand. (The original wand had hardly been an afterthought: its heat-bonded, constrained-layer-damped design consisted of an inner tube of stainless steel and an outer tube of aluminum.) The arm's name changed from the 1.5 to the 1.5t (tungsten), then the 1.5t/c (ceramic), and on to the 2.0, 2.1, and 2.2.
"Hello, I'd like to apply for a Federal Grant? For what? Oh, to design and build a new, high-tech, very expensive turntable. What's that? It plays records. Yes, that kind of turntable. Of course they still make records. Why? How much time do you have? Oh, I forgot—you're a federal employee, you have all day! Well, I didn't mean to insult you. It was a joke....No, I'm serious about the turntable. You do? What kind of music? When are they from? RCA Record Club? Classical Music? 1950s and '60s? Yes. I'll give you $5 each. I know it's generous, but... How much money do I want for the grant? Coupla hundred thousand dollars. No, our turntables will never be used to play Marilyn Manson records—Marilyn doesn't do vinyl. It's in the mail? Thank you. I'll come get the LPs tonight."
These songs will be familiar to you if you attended a “socialist” summer camp during the 1950’s and/or 1960’s. I did. What’s a “socialist” summer camp? It’s roughly defined as one that had an on staff guitar and banjo-playing Pete Seeger following pre-Hippie collegiate or “long hair.”
Better late than never to discover this family of fanciful, faith-based music makers living in Clarksburg, New Jersey, a small hamlet located between Trenton and Point Pleasant on the New Jersey shore.
Former Kinks frontman Ray Davies’ fans are among the most fan-atic in rock. I found out the hard way when I dared to post a less than fawning review of an Irving Plaza show I attended last spring on a Kinks fan newsgroup that I joined.
This album of analog (or analog sounding) bleeps, blops and buzzes, backed by a drum track apparently created from real skins by Mr. Hebden, has an organic, hypnotic, soothing quality that many will find attractive.