Editor’s letter

If you had told me this time last year that I would be editor of Record Collector within months, I’d have said: “Er, thanks for telling me. But do I know you?” I hadn’t expected to be in this job; my involvement with music was as an album compiler, DJ, and writer of the occasional story about rock for my employer, The Independent. Above all, central to my abiding interest in music was the role of record collector. I did exactly what it says on the tin.

So I have a job I hadn’t anticipated, but unexpected things happen. Who would have anticipated vinyl making such a comeback and for CDs to be on the way out? A record industry that pretends to have the making of hits down to a precise science is increasingly subject to the random whims of fans on the world wild web. Quantum physics (no, me neither) tells us that anything that can happen will happen, and that applies to music in the 21st century. For example, as a fan of Little Roy, whose records I’ve collected for more than 30 years, it has astonished and delighted me to see him attracting attention with an album of Nirvana covers. Nirvana – from this most commercially unsuccessful and uncompromising of reggae singers, a man whom I swear would not pick up a microphone if he did not feel committed to what he sings. That is truly peculiar. But if music – and life – could be predicted, how boring would it be?

The return of vinyl may be much talked about, but for many of us it never went away. I have a fair-sized CD collection, but I stopped buying them eight years ago. Space and organising your collection are issues for all who are serious about music, and I faced a choice: did I want to keep buying CDs and vinyl, without enough room for either, or did I decide what I really wanted? I chose vinyl; no matter how well a CD is mastered, to me, vinyl sounds and feels more real, less processed. (To borrow a maxim from boxing, a good big ’un will always beat a good little ’un.) I do play MP3s, but they are almost irrelevant: just files, not a thing in themselves. The demise of the local record shop – what Americans call “the mom and pop” store – is painful for many, but that makes visiting those stores that still exist all the more cherishable. In 2011, it has been a great pleasure to shop at Peckings, Direct Impact, Rough Trade, Soul Jazz, Phonica, Reckless, and the Music Exchange shops in London. I am lucky to live in a city where there is a choice. The fairs are lovely, and I’ve bought mail order from Enthucol, Juno and Banquet Records all year, but putting your paws on plastic in friendly and familiar surroundings can’t be licked.

This year, that means I’ve manhandled quite a lot of original and reissue R&B and a selection of great new records, including some audacious mash-ups, some of which I’m able to mention on our Single Cream page. Most of the 45s I review are paid for: you can’t get this stuff for free. Like many collectors, my real wants list is down to a few records that are almost impossible to find – especially the ones I used to see for two quid 20 years ago but never bothered to buy! But there are always new records to discover and that’s the beauty of it.

Everyone else has been telling us their highlights of the year, so I guess I can too. So here goes. Meeting Duane Eddy, and the brilliant, subtle updating of his signature sound that is his Road Trip LP – and it is an LP because EMI put it out on vinyl. Another instrumental hero, Booker T Jones, in fine fettle for his The Road From Memphis album. Universal taking its acquisition of Trojan seriously and issuing truly rare recordings in limited numbers and relaunching its appreciation society. Likewise brilliant compilations from Ace, as ever, Salvo, and some unbelievable music on authentic vinyl EPs in Acid Jazz’s Rare Mod series. The same company also signed Janice Graham Band, who look like the future of sneering rock’n’roll to me. There have also been some tasty reissues from Sunspot/Secret, and dance music remains a bastion of black plastic. Plus reproduction 45s from all over the globe have delivered retro gems at an affordable price.

Preston Lauterbach’s The Chitlin’ Circuit And The Road To Rock’n’Roll (WW Norton) is the best music book I’ve read in years. It brings home perfectly the haphazard process by which the music we love grew at least in part from the blues, and why it’s good is because of Lauterbach’s love for the music, and his brilliant, dry, wry writing. If that book stimulated my tiny mind, another couple kept my eyes excited: The Cover Art Of Studio One Records (Soul Jazz) tells the world what reggae fans already knew: that these chaotic sleeves actually add up to some kind of wonderful; and the Faces: 1969-75 (Genesis Publications) superdeluxe limited-edition publication is a beautiful memento of a band that really did touch lives way back then, no matter how taken for granted they are today.

On telly, the second series of Phoneshop has had me snapping ribs with laughter but everyone I mention it to hasn’t watched it; I always see The Big Bang Theory – with them its science and comics, but the obsessive collector’s nerd mentality is in evidence and I am talking about myself (as ever); The Apprentice; Strictly Come Dancing – yes, really – although the series has been as much filler as thriller; Friday nights on BBC4 have been worth keeping an eye on, with strong music programming catering for a taste wider than you’d expect. I can’t figure out why there aren’t more biographical shows about bands – imagine the drama that a documentary about Deep Purple might uncover? I’d like to be able to pretend that I’ve been to the movies or the theatre but I haven’t. Not enough time dahling – too many records to enjoy.

Some personal stuff: loved DJing with my mates at Live Injection and a sprinkling of other gigs; discovering the joys of Al Haq’s Family Restaurant, thriving on the site of a favourite curry caff in Walthamstow that shut down maybe 23 years back; getting great records by Little Richard, Delroy Wilson, Bobby Day, The Drifters, and being shocked at what I heard when I played an East Of Eden LP I’d owned for yonks but had forgotten about.

Above all else, the support I’ve had since taking this job has been brilliant, from the readers and our staff, plus I’ve met some great musical minds. While it’s been amazing to see the publicity our features have enjoyed – the Julian Lennon interview in the Christmas issue being the latest example – what’s important is that it proves that record collecting still interests the wider world. It’s been great to see stories about Rory Gallagher, R&B and Elvis going into print in a different format to how these subjects are usually tackled; to evoke again the brilliance of Lee Dorsey and Bootsy Collins; seeing our presence on Facebook and Twitter, WordPress and in the newsletter; and to hear from our great writers and collectors – and by that I mean YOU, the readers who fill our letters pages with insight, humour and attention to detail. Thank you.

With sincere wishes for a happy and music-mad new year,

by Ian McCann
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