Record setting
A loving monument to the lost world of vinyl
by Mike Miliard
With the Internet music revolution
fueling the Zeitgeist, it's easy to forget the initial significance of the
digital revolution that effectively killed off vinyl records 15 years ago. But
Stereo Jack's remembers. This is a place that revels in the look, the feel, the
smell of record albums.
Of course, it's far from the only vinyl vendor in Greater Boston (and it
doesn't sell vinyl exclusively). But its proprietors and customers embrace the
medium with an exuberance that sets the store apart. As any vinyl freak will
tell you, records have a unique, warm sound. Plus, it's a simple fact that tons
of music is just not available on CD. And with old-fashioned records came
old-fashioned cover art -- a once-vibrant discipline that fell into decline
when, almost overnight, artists found themselves limited to the five square
inches of a CD case.
In fact, it's the cover art that you notice first when you enter Stereo Jack's
-- the walls are plastered from floor to ceiling with old record albums, the
pop colors of their '60s-era typefaces dulled by the years. "It's an art
gallery," says store manager Mark Starr. "They're not even for sale. They're
just covers that make me laugh. And we've been here for 19 years, so that's a
lot of covers." Indeed. These are not your dad's Beatles and Stones records.
Music To Play Checkers By, anyone? The Moyshe Oysher Hanukkah
Party? Are you the kind of person who needs Serenades for Sex Kittens
or Music for a Chinese Dinner at Home? Or how 'bout What You Can
Learn from the Kinsey Report, featuring a shocked-looking woman, circa
1955? ("I put 'em all up except the X-rated ones," Starr says. "We've got some
from the '50s that are risqué even by today's standards.") Starr's
personal favorite? "Oh! Music for Big Dame Hunters! I mean, where are
you gonna find that on CD?" The album-cover wallpaper is hilarious, embodying
everything that was bad and good about mid-century American aesthetics.
But not everything is a joke at Stereo Jack's. There is much here for the
serious music lover (especially one with a thin wallet). Jack's specializes in
jazz, blues, and oldies, with some country and folk thrown in. The jazz
selection is most impressive. A 1962 original Art Tatum red vinyl? Eight bucks
(with nary a scratch). An original version of Miles Davis's landmark
Sketches of Spain? Ten bucks. A three-album Modern Jazz Quartet box set?
That's a tenner, too. Jack's also has a dollar jazz section with some
surprising finds: Sidney Bechet, Louis Armstrong, Earl "Fatha" Hines, Duke
Ellington. Says Starr, "We have a very deep selection of the genres we
specialize in. And we price 'em to move."
But in this age of digitized, sterilized, anaesthetized music, why musty,
dusty, staticky vinyl? "Because we love it."
Stereo Jack's, 1686 Mass Ave, Cambridge, (617) 497-9447.
The Urban Buy archive