Should Charles Brown be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame before Todd Rundgren or Jeff Lynne?

By Phill Marder

Sifting through a year’s worth of comments, or influence and other stuff that doesn’t mean squat…

Over the past year I’ve gotten a lot of mail and just about every piece has appeared in print, with the one or two that were complimentary receiving priority. But we’ve still got readers using the “I” word, the most overused and meaningless word around, except, perhaps, diva.

Now, why do I loathe and detest the word influence? I was puzzled myself. Never used to have violent reactions to that word. What suddenly made me cringe whenever I saw it in print? After much thought, the source of my discontent revealed itself.

The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame keeps inducting artists who are cult favorites while ignoring true Rock & Roll giants. And almost every time I’d read the bio or publicity release issued by the RRHOF, the word influence was the reason as in, “they/he/she didn’t sell five records in their lifetime, but they were a huge influence on every artist who ever lived. There’s no way to prove it. Just take our word for it because we nominated them and voted them in and we (the 30 or 40 members of the nominating committee) know better than all you saps out there buying the music.”

Some examples – and just a few because there’s enough for a whole year’s worth of blog entries -
Charles Brown – The Hall of Fame biography states, “Charles Brown was a major musical figure in the pre-rock and roll era of the late Forties and early Fifties.” and later states “Brown’s mellow blues stylings fell out of favor during the rock and roll revolution of the Fifties.”

Nothing against Brown, but the guy – according to the Hall of Fame, itself – wasn’t even popular during the Rock & Roll era, so why is he in the Hall of Fame when so many famous rockers are not? Well, according to the Hall of Fame biography, he had a lot of rhythm & blues hits in the ’40s and he’s often cited as an influence on Ray Charles. Great. Then he should be in the Rhythm & Blues Hall of Fame. If he must be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, why not in the “Early Influence” category I asked when this article was first printed as Brown was listed in the Performer category by the Hall of Fame website. Readers Roy and Tom Lane questioned this (see comments) and the next day (10-18-2011) Brown’s category was changed to Early Influence. Good job gentlemen.

“Guitarists ranging from Eric Clapton and Mike Bloomfield, to Peter Green, Jeff Beck and Carlos Santana have all acknowledged their debt to Freddie King (1934-1976), the ‘Texas Cannonball,’” says the Hall of Fame. And they owe nothing to any other guitarist? The HOF resume of BB King states, “His influence on a generation of rock and blues guitarists – including Eric Clapton(again), Mike Bloomfield and Stevie Ray Vaughan – has been inestimable.” King is quoted as saying, “We don’t play Rock and Roll. Our music is Blues, straight from the Delta” and the HOF calls him “the genre’s(Blues) most recognizable and influential artist.” Meanwhile, a truly great guitarist who actually played on many Rock & Roll hits can’t get a nomination. I speak of Glen Campbell.

The Velvet Underground “one of the most important rock & roll bands of all time”?

Here’s one of my favorites. Again, from the Hall of Fame biography – “The influence of the Velvet Underground on rock greatly exceeds their sales figures and chart numbers. They are one of the most important rock and roll bands of all time, laying the groundwork in the Sixties for many tangents rock music would take in ensuing decades. Yet just two of their four original studio albums ever even made Billboard’s Top 200, and that pair – The Velvet Underground and Nico (#171) and White Light/White Heat (#199) – only barely did so.”

How can you make statements like that? How can you prove they were so influential or one of the most important bands of all time. Who’s saying this nonsense? Hardly anyone bought their records. Why? Because they couldn’t play and couldn’t sing. And most of their songs weren’t even very good.

Brian Eno is quoted as saying, “The first Velvet Underground album only sold 10,000 copies, but everyone who bought it formed a band.”

First of all, that’s a ridiculous statement if taken as fact. Eno’s point is made, though. They were “highly influential.” But how many of those inspired to start bands were inspired because they felt, “these guys are so bad, we can’t be any worse!”? So I offer my own ridiculous statement – “Chicago sold only six billion albums, but every horn player in the universe bought one and was inspired to join or start a Rock & Roll band.” As insane as that remark is, it certainly makes more sense than Eno’s quote, or the Hall of Fame’s, for that matter.

For those who have complained about Percy Sledge’s induction, take this, the opening line of Sledge’s bio on the Hall of Fame website – “If Percy Sledge had only recorded ‘When a Man Loves a Woman,’ one of the greatest of all soul songs, he would have earned his place in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.”

Really? One song gets you into the Hall of Fame? That’s like a guy going into Cooperstown after hitting a home run in his first at-bat, then adding a few singles mixed in with a ton of strikeouts over the next couple decades. Isn’t there supposed to be a great body of work? How about all the great songs recorded by Mary Wells, Jerry Butler, Dionne Warwick etc., etc.? How about Neil Sedaka, Jack Scott, Freddy Cannon, US Bonds, Johnny Rivers, etc.? How about some I haven’t even written about, such as the great Chuck Jackson, who could sing circles around Sledge. But wait…I forgot…who was on Atlantic Records?

And the dreck has continued year after year. This years bios tell us: “Together, the Small Faces and Faces have been a lasting inspiration on artists like the Black Crowes, the Jam’s Paul Weller, the Replacements and Oasis,” like all the great artists yet to be nominated never inspired anyone.

“In the 1990s, (Joan) Jett’s no-nonsense attitude and guitar sound was a major influence on the riot grrrl movement, and she went on to produce Bikini Kill and record with L7. Her success inspired renewed interest in the Runaways, who were dismissed in their day as a gimmick.” Not really. They were dismissed as being not very good. As far as the influence part goes, ever hear of Fanny, Marianne Faithful, Cher? How ’bout the baddest of the bad girls – Nancy Sinatra? And didn’t Suzi Quatro have the black leather, biker chick look a couple years before the Runaways. Yes, she did. But the Shangri-Las had it years before Quatro, too.

Chaka Khan? “…influencing pop stars and critical favorites from Mary J. Blige to Ledisi. (It is impossible to imagine the contemporary hip-hop-soul diva without Khan’s earthy, rhythmically savvy template.)” My sentiments exactly.

The HOF bio acknowledges Eric B. & Rakim made just four albums, BUT “All four albums were hugely influential – it is difficult to imagine contemporary stars like Jay-Z and Eminem existing at all without them.” I’m sure both Jay-Z and Eminem would be washing cars now if not for Eric B. & Rakim.

Laura Nyro? “Elton John acclaimed her influence to Elvis Costello: “The soul, the passion, the out-and-out audacity of her rhythmic and melody changes was like nothing I’d ever heard before.”

Get the picture? You can take any artist you like and find someone to call them influential. Worse still, you can find some pretentious “music critic” to make outlandish statements, and quote them in your supportive bios.

“The Clash is the only band that matters” and “The Clash brought Great Britain to its knees.” !Yikes! There were a lot of bands selling a lot more records, so evidently other bands did matter, especially to a music industry basing its survival on sales. As for the Great Britain quote, even the American colonies didn’t bring that Empire to its knees. We just kicked its shins a few times. The Nazi bombing of London may be the only event to bring the Empire to its knees…and even that wasn’t for long. Brit rhymes with grit, you know.

I liked The Clash, but other bands – The Moody Blues, The Guess Who, even bands such as The Grass Roots and The Buckinghams and hundreds of others – also mattered.

Should the Small Faces be inducted before The Monkees, The Moody Blues, Deep Purple or Rush?

When I asked him to provide proof of the Small Faces’ “influence,” reader Steve very articulately and politely responded, “’Proof’ as you’ve described it is pretty much unprovable. All I have to go by are the countless artists who have cited (Steve) Marriott as one who inspired them. The list is considerable, and goes back to Robert Plant (a fan of Small Faces), Paul Stanley, Steve Perry, Rod Stewart himself, and especially Chris Robinson who has praised Marriott on many occasions.”

Point taken. But again, I really doubt if Plant or any of the others Steve mentioned would have been tax accountants or professional boxers or something else if they hadn’t heard Marriott.

So, I give Steve – and you – this quote from Plant: “When I was a kid I used to hide behind the curtains at home at Christmas and I used to try and be Elvis.” He didn’t try to be Steve Marriott, he tried to be Elvis.

And for every Paul Stanley and Steve Perry inspired by Marriott, I can give you an example such as Brian Wilson saying of The Monkees, perhaps, according to fan reaction, the biggest Rock Hall omission to date, “The Monkees inspired me to write ‘Break Away’ with my dad.” Or what about Taylor Swift, perhaps the biggest star out there today, who recently named Bon Jovi one of her influences? 

And speaking of Elvis (sorry Declan, there’s only one Elvis), isn’t he “the King Of Rock & Roll?” Wasn’t one of his favorite singers Dean Martin? You can hear Martin in many of Elvis’ vocal inflections. You even can see Martin in many of Elvis’ mannerisms. If you’re going to put people into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame on the basis of influence, why isn’t Dean Martin in there?

Before I leave you, back to Nyro. I wrote “Laura Nyro – May have more nominations than memorable songs written” and concerning Chaka Khan I said, “In all the years I’ve studied this subject, never once have I seen or heard this group (Rufus) or Chaka Khan mentioned as one that should be in the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame. Not once.” For Eric B. & Rakim, I simply wrote, “Who?”

On Facebook, a gentleman commented, “…the Laura Nyro diss is stupid. And if you don’t know who Eric B. & Rakim are, do some research. And the Chaka Khan slam is also ignorant. BTW- the nominating committee has previously considered her in the past.”

The “diss” (wow, I got to use cool, new lingo) was stupid? Nyro has been nominated the last three years and, in my opinion, only wrote two truly memorable songs, “And When I Die” and “Wedding Bell Blues.” The former became memorable thanks to the talent of Blood, Sweat & Tears, the latter thanks to a great showing by the Fifth Dimension. I considered “Eli’s Coming,” but that really took a great job by Three Dog Night to make it a smash. Nyro, herself, had no hits and her albums sold moderately, at best. She was good, and she wrote other good songs, but, as I stated, “Maybe she deserves it (induction). But before Burt Bacharach & Hal David, Bob Crewe, Jimmy Webb, PF Sloan, Thom Bell and countless other songwriting greats?” Of course, that’s probably a stupid question, too.

Laura Nyro, the greatest songwriter not yet inducted into the Rock Hall of Fame?

The Chaka Khan “slam” ignorant? Maybe. I didn’t realize it was a “slam.” To me, it’s just fact. What I wrote was factual. The nominating committee previously considered her? What’s that mean…they sat around a table and someone said, “What about Chaka Khan?” I wasn’t at that table, and it’s not likely I’ll ever be invited, so nobody ever recommended her to me – verbally or in written form – and that’s what I stated. Just ignorant fact.

As for the research comment, the “Who?” was written tongue in cheek because I would imagine most Goldmine readers would have that response. But if I or any reader of Goldmine has to “do some research” to learn about someone who is nominated for the Hall of Fame, then they shouldn’t be nominated. Chubby Checker and approximately 1,000 other artists never nominated, have more Hall of Fame credentials than Eric B. & Rakim and I wouldn’t have to do research to find out who they are.

The biggest problem I’ve seen the last year is that the Hall of Fame has no criteria except the 25-year rule. That’s why the word “influence” is so prominent in their prose. In many cases, there’s nothing else to justify their selections.

Next time, we’re going to offer some criteria that actually can be substantiated by fact, not just opinion, and some other changes the Rock Hall may wish to consider. If you have any suggestions, please place them in the comment section.

We’re also going to take a close look at just what constitutes “Rock & Roll,” another hot button topic among readers.

Maybe, just maybe, we can influence the Hall of Fame enough that it actually gets in tune with the public. Did I just use the word influence? Quick – hand me a gun.

BLOOD, SWEAT & TEARS had a secret weapon in bassist Jim Fielder (bottom row, far left). Sony Music Archives/Don Hunstein

What do Tim Buckley, Frank Zappa, Buffalo Springfield and Neil Sedaka have in common? Jim Fielder, the bass guitar player from Blood, Sweat & Tears.

One of the real unsung heroes of rock ’n’ roll, Fielder was instrumental in establishing Blood, Sweat & Tears’ jazz-rock aesthetic as one of the group’s founding members. Previously, Fielder had cut his teeth with Buffalo Springfield and Zappa’s Mothers Of Invention.

In this wide-ranging interview, Fielder, who has been an in-demand session musician since leaving Blood, Sweat & Tears, talks about his distinguished career.

You are a world-renowned bass player. Was the bass your instrument of choice at the beginning?

Jim Fielder: My dad taught me the ukulele when I was 7, and I took up guitar when I was 10. I started playing bass in high school.

Many of your bass lines with BS&T are really intricate. Were you self-taught?

JF: After graduating from high school, I took some string bass lessons from Ralph Pena, who played bass with Frank Sinatra.

Which bass players have influenced you?

JF: I listened to a lot of jazz players, especially Ron Carter, Ray Brown, Chuck Israels, Richard Davis, Eddie Gomez, and Charles Mingus. I was also influenced by the Motown and other soul bass players, like Jerry Jemmott.

How did you and Tim Buckley end up playing and recording together?

JF: We went to high school together in Anaheim, Calif., and played in a band called The Bohemians. Although we ended up going our separate ways, we were both regulars at the Monday open-mic night at The Troubadour. When Tim was set to record the Tim Buckley album, he asked me to play on it,  and then he asked me to play on “Goodbye & Hello.”

What kind of music were you and Tim playing in The Bohemians?

JF: Lots of brooding folk music, some blues, instrumental improvisations, and accompaniment for Larry Beckett’s poetry recitations. It was a real beatnik scene — [Allen] Ginsberg, and [Jack] Kerouac.

Was your next gig with the Mothers of Invention?

JF: No, I played with Mastin & Brewer, which became Brewer & Shipley. They had a fabulous drummer, Billy Mundi, who played on The Stone Poneys’ first album featuring Linda Ronstadt.

How did you get involved with the Mothers?

JF: Herb Cohen managed Tim Buckley, Judy Henske, Fred Neil, The Modern Folk Quartet (which included Jerry Yester) and Frank Zappa. I played with all of these acts at one time or another, and Billy Mundi, then drummer for The Mothers, recommended me to Frank Zappa. Roy Estrada was playing bass for The Mothers at that time, so I ended up playing rhythm guitar, the instrument I had played through high school.

Which Mothers’ albums did you play on?

JF: Only one — Absolutely Free, but my name was wiped from the credits because I had left to join Buffalo Springfield before the album was released. If you look closely at the outside of the album jacket, my picture is in the photo collage.

What was it like working with Frank Zappa?

JF: Frank was a brilliant musician, and he taught me a lot about modern classical composers, such as Stravinsky, Prokofiev and Hindemith. He was strictly anti-drug, so I learned that it was possible to make inventive music without being stoned.

Tell us about how you came to play bass with Buffalo Springfield.

JF: Buffalo Springfield was managed by Barry Friedman (A.K.A. Frazier Mohawk, later married to songwriter Essra Mohawk), who also managed Mastin & Brewer. At some point, bass player Bruce Palmer, who had come to L.A. with Neil Young from Canada, was having immigration problems and left the band. I auditioned and got the gig.

Do you have a favorite Buffalo Springfield song that you played on?

JF: “Everydays,” a jazz waltz on the second album, Buffalo Springfield Again. I played a fretless bass on that song.

How long were you in Buffalo Springfield?

JF: Five months.

Why did it end?

JF: As my luck would have it, Bruce Palmer returned to the States right before we were to play the Monterey Pop Festival, and he got his gig back.
Describe what the L.A. music scene was like in the ’60s.

JF: There were lots of influences from all over the world. The recording studios and record companies made it a natural magnet for musicians. There were folk and jazz cats from New York, hippies from San Francisco, sh*t kickers from Texas and Oklahoma, blues legends from Chicago and Memphis, and talented young players, singers and songwriters from all over. It was a musical melting pot. There was always something going on and a lot of clubs to play in.

What brought you together with Al Kooper and Blood, Sweat & Tears?

JF: I knew Al from when he was with The Blues Project. We met at The Fillmore in San Francisco when I was with The Mothers and again when I was with the Buffalo Springfield.

Were you guys playing live shows before the release of Child Is Father To The Man?

JF: Yes. We played a lot at the Café Au Go Go in Greenwich Village when we were just a rhythm quartet, and at The Fillmore in New York as a quintet with saxist Fred Lipsius.

The Child album is a classic from beginning to end.

JF: It was Al’s baby. He had all of the songs chosen and the arrangements figured out before the full band got together. That’s why it has such a cohesive sound — it was well-conceived.

You played some groundbreaking bass lines on Child, including the one in “Something Goin’ On.” Did you have any idea that the album would have the impact it had?
JF: I thought it would draw us a following, and that’s pretty much what it did. Initially, it was not a big hit, but it gave us the opportunity to tour.

Speaking of Laura Nyro, she was a gifted artist. What was your relationship with her?

JF: I met her when she was rehearsing with us as a possible replacement for Al Kooper as lead singer. David Geffen, her manager, persuaded her not to do it, and it probably worked out best for all of us.

Blood, Sweat & Tears played an eclectic array of cover songs that the band made its own. The second album included “You’ve Made Me So Very Happy” from Brenda Holloway, Billie Holliday’s “God Bless the Child,” Little Milton’s “More and More” and Laura Nyro’s “And When I Die.” How did the band choose the songs it would cover?

JF: On the second album we did it by democratic vote. Our mission was simple. We wanted to cover the very best of what was out there, using the most inventive arrangements we could.

Al Kooper left between the first and second albums. That would have killed any other band. How did Blood, Sweat & Tears overcome the loss of Al, who was not only a soulful vocalist, but also a significant creative force?

JF: We found a great singer in David Clayton-Thomas, and we made song choices and arrangements a group effort. The musicians in that band were great players with diverse connections, and somehow it all worked.

You played on six Blood, Sweat & Tears albums over seven years. What are some of your favorite songs?

JF: “God Bless the Child,” “And When I Die,” “Without Her,” “Something Goin’ On,” “More and More,” “Smiling Phases,” “Back Up Against the Wall” and “Fire and Rain.”

Why did you leave Blood, Sweat & Tears?

JF: We lost a lot of our audience after David Clayton-Thomas left, and a lot of the fun had gone out of it.

Blood, Sweat & Tears was part of Woodstock. That had to be an unbelievable experience.

JF: We played late Sunday night between Johnny Winter and Crosby, Stills & Nash. The crowd was down to about 50,000 by then, but it still felt like were playing to the whole world. Backstage was like old home week. I got to see a lot of old friends and people I had played with over the years. It was probably the highlight of my career.
You have been playing with Neil Sedaka since 1977. Are you currently working on other music projects?

JF: I have three groups in my hometown of Tyler, Texas: A jazz quartet with a terrific female singer, a ’70s/’80’s classic-rock band, and a traditional country gospel group. I am writing songs and am also involved in teaching.

Sitting here today, how do you feel looking back on a 40-plus year career in the music industry?

JF: When I took music up seriously, I was in high school on a course of study that would have led to a career as a research physicist or a university math professor. To suddenly switch to music was a leap of faith, but my goal was always to be a professional musician, without any pretenses about stardom. To this day I have supported myself and raised a family from nothing but my music career and the grace of God. I wouldn’t change a thing. I am a happy man, doing what I do best.

Better Records' cleaning area — the first step in finding a hot stamper, according to Tom Port, is to clean the records. (Tom Port)

“And when the record sounds really good, unusually good, sometimes as good as we’ve ever heard it, we call such a hot-sounding record a Hot Stamper LP.” — Better Records Web site

How much would you pay for a common classic rock record? An LP that’s available for a couple of dollars in practically any used record shop or garage sale? Well, customers looking for the best-sounding versions of their favorite albums are paying several hundreds of dollars or more at Better Records (www.dccblowout.com). Why?

Better Records’ owner Tom Port and crew take the time to listen to dozens, if not hundreds, of copies of albums, making detailed notes about each individual record’s stamper number and playback qualities, in search of what they term a “hot stamper.” Goldmine spoke with Port about hot stampers and why his customers are willing to spend big bucks for big sound.

GM: What are hot stampers and how did you discover them?

Tom Port: About 15 years ago — I have a good friend, Robert Pinkus, who is the producer for the reissue series that Cisco [Records] did. When I moved up to L.A. from San Diego, I met him. We used to find classic rock records that just had amazing sound.

We started noticing the stamper numbers — you know the whole stamper number thing kind of caught on with Harry Pearson [publisher of The Absolute Sound magazine] saying something like, “Oh, you want the FR1 stampers, you want the 1-S for “Pines Of Rome,” you want the FR-1s for your Mercurys. You don’t want any Columbia reissues for your Mercury pressings.”

So this stamper thing had been around and people knew to look in the dead wax, but they didn’t really take it very far. I think the concept of records, even with the same stamper numbers, sounding different hadn’t really caught on with people very well.

There was a Blood, Sweat & Tears record that was on 360 — the second Blood, Sweat & Tears album — I remember one time we found that there was a stamper: It was, let’s say for example 3BB, and Side Two was 3BG. We were playing one, one time, and it didn’t sound very good. So I pulled out my personal copy that I knew was 3BB, and I looked at my copy, which said 3BB. And then in the dead wax, it had very fine scratching — a hash mark and a #2. The one that didn’t sound good didn’t have that hash mark.

That’s obviously a case where the metal stamper, which is what you would scratch something into — it wouldn’t go into the acetate — it would be lightly etched. The second stamper was the better sounding stamper. The first stamper didn’t sound that good.

And so, when Michael Fremer (Stereophile magazine contributing editor) recently wrote that “Oh, hot stampers. All it is, is the first off the — the metal father is used to make many metal mothers, and the metal mothers then make all the stampers. You get the earliest metal mother and you get the earliest stampers, and those are going to be the ones that sound good.”

Well, that’s demonstrably untrue. It’s clearly the kind of thinking that’s logical, but it doesn’t have anything to do with finding good records. We’re all about finding good records. When we’re trying to find good records, we try to ignore everything there is to know about the record, except what it sounds like. It’s the whole idea of actually playing a record to determine what it sounds like, as opposed to looking at the stamper numbers or reading about it or finding out how it was made, or what tape they were using and all that. That’s no help.

That’s like somebody going to a movie  if you go to a movie and say, “Yeah. They’ve got the best actors, they’ve got the best producer, they’ve got the best cameraman, they’ve got the best scriptwriter — they’ve got all these great people. This is gonna be a great movie.” Then you walk out of the theater thinking, “That movie wasn’t very good.” And somebody says, “Well, that’s impossible. They had the best of everybody.” [laughs] It just doesn’t work that way. The road to hell is paved with the best intentions.

Some of these audiophile labels have turned out — this is something that’s really only come our way hardcore in the last five years — we talk about this in the Revolutionary Changes In Audio link, which is about how everything has changed in the last five or 10 years with the advent of these really high-quality cleaning fluids. Walker Audio makes fluids. There’s also some really exotic [cleaning] machines. We have this machine that comes from Germany that costs $7,000. Believe me, when you clean a record on it — no matter how clean it was before — it will sound better after you clean it on this machine.

All this stuff has changed. Turntables have gotten a lot better. And the biggest thing, and probably the most upsetting thing — it’s like Schopenhauer’s famous quote, “All truth passes through three stages. First, it is ridiculed. Second, it is violently opposed. Third, it is accepted as being self-evident.” That’s exactly what’s going to happen. And now you read on Audiogon and various other audio forums, “Oh, of course no two records sound the same.” But nobody was saying that back when I first started to say it. Nobody. We were it.

Most audiophiles, even the ones who are hardcore vinyl lovers, they still appreciate to some degree — which I think is incorrect — a lot of these audiophile remastering houses. DCC — it went out of business — but there’s lots of labels that have followed in their footsteps. [Records] mastered by Steve Hoffman and Kevin Gray and this stuff that Rhino’s doing and Warner Brothers is doing … Rickie Lee Jones and [Joni Mitchell’s] Blue.

Better Records' cleaning area — the first step in finding a hot stamper, according to Tom Port, is to clean the records. (Tom Port)

GM: Blue has quite a reputation among audiophiles.

Port: Whenever we play these records, we give them every benefit of the doubt. We have a VTA adjustment, we do all that. We have a whole big commentary about Blue, which I highly recommend you read. Blue, we thought, was wrong. Everybody raves about it, and people have written us, telling us we must be crazy not to recognize that Blue is the best-sounding Blue ever.

We said, “We think this record is wrong. But we don’t think it’s our job to tell you why it’s wrong. Because we’re not selling it.” We will, however, help you determine what’s wrong with it by you finding enough copies and cleaning them up and listening to them and telling us what you hear — what stamper numbers you’re working with and what you’re hearing — and we’ll guide you through the process. Because I’ve got at least 50 or 75 copies of Blue. We had over 100 of James Taylor’s Sweet Baby James. We have like 115. We just buy them whenever we see them — you never have to pay more than about $5 for that record. You just buy them until you find that one — you sit down and start listening to them.

We started saying that we can’t find virtually any heavy vinyl reissue, virtually any modern reissue, that can compete with the real thing. Now the real thing is what we define it as. In other words, it may not be the original. It may not be an import. It may not be anything. It’s whatever sounds the best.

So sometimes you’ll find a record — I’ll give you a good example — take The Association’s Insight Out. There are a million gold-label original stereo copies. There are very few green-label original stereo copies — they’re not originals, they’re reissues. But the green labels consistently sound better. Why? Because they’re cut on better equipment? Pressed on better vinyl? Who knows? But I play the records — you don’t even have to know that the label is green. You can hear that the label is green. It’s that much better.

Some audiophiles would say, “Always buy the original,” or “Buy the original that’s made in the country that it was recorded in.” For example, Led Zeppelin recorded in England, they didn’t record in the United States. So all the original English pressings should be the best. I got news for you — they’re not the best. They’re not even really very good most of the time. So these sort of theories about what records sound good are mistaken.

And then this whole idea that you can remaster a record with this modern cutting equipment and succeed, seems to us very fallacious. We don’t see very much evidence. So a company like Mobile Fidelity comes along and remasters Santana’s first album at half-speed — well, all the bass is all blurry and woolly and muddy. Half-speed mastering is bad for the bass. You can’t get good bass with half-speed mastering — there’s no such thing.

So they cut this record — and you know, Santana’s mostly about rhythm — and the rhythm is all screwy because the bass is so blubbery. Well, audiophiles don’t seem to notice that — or some do, some of the ones that come to our site do. But you can go up on the average forum and say, “I love that first Santana album that Mobile Fidelity did,” and you’d find a lot of people who would say, “You’re so right. It’s great.” But it’s not great. It’s mediocre at best.

A hot stamper of "Blood, Sweat & Tears" is the best-sounding pop or rock record Port has found so far.

GM: What role does stereo equipment play in finding good records?

Port: We talk endlessly about how you need a big speaker with lots of woofers that can really power the music; otherwise, you’re compressing the heck out of it. You can play the first Santana album on a speaker like that, since it doesn’t have very good bass — there’s no way in the world… imagine Santana in a live concert — how many woofers do they have? That’s what you’re competing with. That’s the sound you’re trying to reproduce. You can’t do it with a 10-inch woofer.

If you’re playing a record on a small box speaker, you might not know that the bass isn’t very good because the bass reproduction isn’t very good to start with. If you don’t know what good bass is, how are you going to know if it’s good or bad? If you’re not playing a record back on a good system — you know, audiophile records sound great on mid-fi equipment. They get worse and worse as your stereo gets better. This is the dirty little secret of audio — as your stereo gets better, you will find that audiophile records sound more and more faulty. They don’t sound right. And your stupid old American rock records that cost $2 at a thrift store start to sound really musical and really magical.

You’ll go, “Wow the cymbals are dead on the money, and the bass is so much more realistic.” You could ask, “Are these modern records being made on bad equipment? Are they EQ-ing them funny? Do they not have good taste?” I don’t know and really don’t care. I’m the business of selling you a great-sounding record. I don’t want to sell a bad record. I’ll sell you something else.

Take the case of Steely Dan’s Aja: We offered all our hot-stamper customers a free copy of Cisco’s 180-gram version of Aja. We’ll give one to you for free, so that if you have any doubts that our $200, $300, $400 version isn’t going to kill it, we’ll give you the record to shoot-out for yourself. We’re pretty sure that the two things are very, very different.

And so when we sell these records for many hundreds of dollars — you see the prices on the Web site — the people that buy them don’t send them back. They’re pretty sure they got $500 worth of sound, because most of them either have copies already or they have some heavy vinyl versions. Occasionally, we’ll get a record back, but it’s mostly because of surface problems, not because it didn’t sound good.

Another thing, I have a very expensive tonearm, the Triplanar. It’s $4,700. And I have a high quality cartridge, the Dynavector 17D, which has a very, very, very fine tip. So it gets way deep in the groove. About a half-dozen people have returned records because they heard a skip or a loud pop. When they return them, almost without exception, they play perfectly here. Why? Because when you have a $4,700 tonearm and a high-quality cartridge and it’s set up correctly and you’ve got a lot of experience, you rarely have problems with records like that. Once every 10 years that might happen. The better your equipment, the fewer problems.

GM: It’s difficult to find used records that have no noise.

Port: Some people say, “I have this equipment that’s so revealing, I need only the best quality, dead-quiet pressings. That’s why I have to buy all this brand-new vinyl.” When you take an old record and play it on an old turntable, the turntable is causing a lot of the noise. If you have an old Technics turntable, an old Dual turntable — whatever you’ve got — half the noise is being created by that turntable. The record itself, once you’ve cleaned it properly, will be surprisingly quiet. We were doing a shoot-out today: We had a pink label, original British Emerson, Lake & Palmer, their first album. It played dead quiet. It’s 40 years old! It’s a used record! But it was very, very quiet. Anybody who complains about records basically has bad records, uncleaned records or bad equipment. Because most records — when you really clean them up and play them on a good turntable, and they’re not scratched or abused — will play pretty quiet. This whole business of virgin vinyl and having to use virgin vinyl because old records have old vinyl — well that old vinyl is actually pretty darn quiet most of the time.

GM: How quickly does a $300 or $400 hot stamper sell?

Port: Once one of my customers buy one or two of our records, they get addicted to them very quickly. We do these mailings on Wednesday nights, and within probably 20 minutes of the mailing going out, half the records in the mailing are gone. And it’s almost always the most expensive ones first. Why? People go, “Man, I’ve always wanted the best-sounding version of Neil Young’s After The Gold Rush or The Beatles’ Hard Day’s Night, or whatever it is. And when they get them, they get their money’s worth. They get the real record.

GM: How much work is it to find a hot stamper?

Port: We may go through 10 or 20 or 50 copies to find a hot stamper. You have to clean each record. It’s a lot of work. Most people don’t want to do that work. We do, and if the record doesn’t blow your mind, you get your money back. We want you to have your mind blown. We’ll describe the musical qualities of every record: how good the bass is, how good the mid-range is, how good the top-end is, how distorted it is, how open it is — these are all descriptions from our notes, when we’re sitting down making evaluations of these records we’ll have 10 or 15 copies and very extensive notes for Side 1 and Side 2. And then when we go back to write the listing, we’ll use those notes to highlight the records.

When you listen to a record, you’re listening for what it’s doing right and what it’s doing wrong. You can try this. Listen to Side 1 of a record and make critical notes. What’s the bass like? How’s the mid-range? How powerful is it? Now flip it over to Side 2. There’s almost no chance that Side 2 will sound the same. It’s like 1 out of 20. No two sides of a record sound the same, and you can prove it with nearly every record you own.

GM: What’s the “hottest” hot stamper you’ve come across?

Port: We’re on record as saying that the right stamper of Blood, Sweat & Tears is the best-sounding pop or rock record ever made. There’s just nothing like it.

GM: Are there multiple hot stampers of different records?

Port: Absolutely. There’s lots of good stampers, and we discover new stampers all the time. We discovered the best-sounding Side 2 of Blood, Sweat & Tears about a year ago. And we have commentary on the Web site. We charged $850, the highest price we’ve ever put on a record on the Web site. We charged $850 for this record because Side 2 was so far above anything I had ever heard, and it was a stamper I never knew could sound that way.