A Record a Day 2023: January

For anyone who might want to follow along, here’s an approximate Apple Music version of a-record-a-day from January. I missed a few days but since a) I’m sure I can make them up this year, and b) I was making a record those days, I believe I remain on track. There are a few titles that aren’t streaming, so I substituted wherever it made sense. Winfried Mühlum-Pyrápheros does not appear at all.

Records in the New Year

Non-rock records, J-M

One of my goals for 2023 is to buy no additional LPs. The reasons for this are two in number: 1) Between COVID-pandemic life and a generally expanded musical life, my record-buying has become, I fear, excessive; and 2) I’d like to be more familiar with my existing collection, and so digging through my own records seems like a good thing to do.

There are, no doubt, nearly-buried or -forgotten treasures around here. Like many listeners, I keep my records pretty well organized, but jackets are slim and one’s movements sometimes quick: alphabetization might not be as tight as one thinks and titles are forgotten or misplaced. The last time I did a thorough run through the collection was a lockdown-derived impulse to separate the rock records from the non-rock records. My listening at the time was once again diverging from rock music and I saw fit to spare myself the added effort of weeding through all of the records to find the creative, improvised, jazz, classical, and other stuff.1 I have come to live with this arrangement but it is still many records and a half-baked subdivision as I proposed provides only a smattering of relief.

I’ll add that my record collection, though sizable 2, is admittedly dwarfed by those of several of my friends. I’ve liquidated at least two LP collections over the years 3, where many my age have all of their records from their whole life. We’re mostly in our 40s or 50s and many of us musicians or in the music business, so as you might imagine, some of the collections I have in mind here are vast! Alas, I have what I have nonetheless, and it has become unmanageable.

I’ve learned elsewhere that when one feels overwhelmed , one might be best served by retreat and inventory. That’s what I’ll be doing here this year, cataloging and tracking my (hopefully) daily reacquaintance with the music I already possess. One point worth making, I think, is that I’ll still listen to new stuff digitally 4 and plan on keeping a list of records to look for when the moratorium is lifted. There’s surely more to say about all of this, about what a collection or archive or library is, about possession and scarcity, about supporting friends and artists one wants to support, about identity and artistry. But we’ll save those remarks for the remainder of the year. We’ve got our hands full enough right now. Happy new year to you all.


  1. As you have likely already observed, this taxonomy — if we can call it a taxonomy and not just a segregation — fails at the outset: what of This Heat? What of Tortoise or Trans Am? Is it simply a mater of instrumentation and backbeat emphasis? I have drawn my own fool’s distinctions and they are at best inconsistent. And why not? This isn’t the turn of the century or something. No one else is looking for a record on these shelves. This is the kind of exercise I’m prone to in the best of times. Such organizational strategies have flourished during the times of COVID-restricted activity.

  2. Roughly 25 linear feet, including box sets and a foot or so of my own work and excluding CDs. At 80-100 records/foot, I’m looking at well over 2000 LPs, a number in much more rapid expansion these last, say 7-8 years as both my music-making and listening have grown.

  3. Once in 1988 to raise $ for CD purchases and again around 1996 to raise $ and make way for my burgeoning jazz listening.

  4. I’m not a monk!

Day’s Plays Guest Post: Stephen Mejias


[You can see some of Stephen’s work here, here, and here.]
The Three Sounds, Soul Symphony (Spotify): My relationship with music changed soon after the birth of our daughter in March 2019. Thinking about it now, things had started to change even before she was born. Rather than search, often obsessively, for the strangest, most obscure, or most challenging pieces of music, I searched for sounds that would immediately soothe and consistently delight. A number of soul-jazz, blues, and funk albums from the late-sixties Blue Note catalog are great for this. I was probably drawn first to the cover art, which almost seems specifically designed for sleep-deprived parents and their young, restless children. As it turns out, Soul Symphony is the final entry in The Three Sounds’ long discography, and it features original member, Gene Harris, agile and poised on piano; the strong and versatile Henry Franklin on bass; a wonderfully funky and stirring Carl Burnett on drums; an orchestra conducted and arranged by Monk Higgins; and soulful backing vocals by the Specialties Unlimited—Clydie King, Mamie Galore, and Alex Brown. We rarely make it past the title track, but that’s okay. It’s a 26-minute suite that courses through various rhythms, waltzes, and chants—all of which are pretty perfect for keeping babies, toddlers, and parents in good spirits. Also, I would not be surprised if second, third, and fourth copies of this album are kept tightly locked away by savvy DJs and beat hunters.
Andy BeyExperience and Judgment (Spotify): For about 30 minutes each weekday morning and evening, on drives to and from our nanny’s apartment, I listen almost exclusively to Newark’s own WBGO 88.3FM — the world’s greatest independent radio station. In that relatively short (but awesomely restorative) period of time, I’m treated to all sorts of soul, jazz, blues, funk, and Latin music that I almost certainly would otherwise neglect. You would not believe the number of times WBGO’s DJs have forced me to pull over, put the car in park, and Shazam their playlist. You would not believe the number of times I’ve Shazam’ed Andy Bey. What is it with this guy? His voice is concrete and pain, cashmere and blood. From what I understand, 1974’s Experience and Judgment stands out in his discography, boasting a sort of celestial spirit that his earlier work rarely revealed. There are funk guitars, funk keys, funk grooves, and Bey’s funky-ass voice, which works as well here as it would in an opera or on a street corner. Born in Newark in 1939, openly gay and HIV positive, Bey likely knows more than a thing about experience and judgment. I’m here for all of it. This man is a king and I rejoice every time I hear his intoxicating, confounding voice.
The Koreatown Oddity, Little Dominiques Nosebleed (Bandcamp): As the album art explains, when The Koreatown Oddity (Dominque Purdy) was a little kid, he was in two serious car accidents that would change the rest of his life. With virtuosic rapping that gracefully weaves through decades of jazz and soul, atop the pop and crackle of dirty old vinyl, recalling a childhood of video games, cartoons, professional wrestling, and street fights, Little Dominiques Nosebleed tells that story — little Dominique’s origin story — in remarkably vivid detail. He shows us where he’s from. And, although Los Angeles is 3000 miles from Newark, it feels a lot like home. This is a rollercoaster of a record: funny, frightening, illuminating, and absolutely necessary.
Jeremy Cunningham, The Weather Up There (Bandcamp): Straight from the Bandcamp page because I can’t describe it any better: “Chicago drummer and composer Jeremy Cunningham wrote The Weather Up There in response to the loss of his brother Andrew, who died in a home invasion robbery in 2008. Co-produced by Jeff Parker and Paul Bryan, and engineered by Paul Bryan and John McEntire, this work confronts the tragedy of violence and examines the acute ripple effect on several lives through the lens of memory, response, and collage. Further deepening the textural and emotive impact, Cunningham formed a “drum choir” for these recordings, comprising close mentors and colleagues Mike Reed, Makaya McCraven, and Mikel Patrick Avery. Cunningham also taps regular collaborators Ben LaMar Gay, Jaimie Branch, Tomeka Reid, Dustin Laurenzi, Matt Ulery, and Josh Johnson.” This is a special record, an urgent story beautifully told through song, a gripping and tragic document of life lost and what happens after. It’s fragility, vulnerability, forgiveness and love. It’s empathy, courage, the human spirit — a beautiful, beautiful thing.
Tony Joe WhiteHomemade Ice Cream (Spotify): Typically, I can trace my musical interests or whimsies — returns and departures — to a moment in time, a specific response for or against something seemingly large and immovable. After Trump was elected, for instance, I spent the better part of the following 18 months listening to nothing but doom metal and noise. But at some point during this terrifying, suffocating pandemic, the illogical algorithm that shoots ones and zeroes through my weary brain pushed me into Tony Joe White. I first became acquainted with his work during my days at Stereophile magazine. He was sort of that kind of artist — relatively unknown, for those who knew, whose songs were hits for others only. Even I’d forgotten about him until one night in bed, having nearly sung myself to sleep along with our daughter, I blindly swiped through the app and stumbled upon Homemade Ice Cream. And I don’t know, it must’ve had something to do with the album art because, well, look at him — wavy-haired and belly-proud and glowing in the soft sunlight. Who doesn’t want to feel like that? “Saturday Night in Oak Grove, Louisiana” tells us: “You get home just around sundown and jump into the shower / And now you’re starting to run around / And you know you’ve only got an hour / To comb your hair.” Huh. Maybe it makes perfect sense after all. Maybe I’m mourning a thing or two, hair to wash and comb. There’s a dirty blues riff and a driving beat and an animal snarl. The rest of the album is very different and worth every moment.
Cigarettes After Sex, Cigarettes After Sex (Bandcamp): It was near the end of August or early September, after months of settling for indoor activities and the occasional long walk, that we finally felt ready to take our daughter to a playground. Weighed down with hand sanitizer and disinfectant wipes, we moved carefully from swings to slide as the brightest smile and bluest eyes came charging into our lives. The little girl seemed to absorb sunshine, regenerate it, cast it out as purest joy. “This one,” I must’ve thought then. “I want ours to be friends with this one.” Not long after, we would indeed become friends — a fact that, when set against our current circumstances, is undeniably miraculous. As friends do, we’ve shared music. Among many others — The Cure, Metric, Morrissey, and more — I’ve gained this one, the eponymous debut from Texas slow-core band Cigarettes After Sex. The song “Apocalypse” seems fitting for today, not just because of its title, but for its quiet hope and enduring wonder. At around 3:35, just after the lines “You’ve been locked in there forever / and you just can’t say goodbye,” the music fades to blackest black, momentarily fooling the listener into thinking it’s over, only to return with more ecstasy, more love, and a reminder that we’re not alone.

Day’s Plays Guest Post: Fred Erskine



[You can hear some of Fred’s music here or here.]
Tamikrest, Tamotait (Bandcamp): This was my heaviest spinner of the year. This was the most satisfying go to. This one is like floating over the desert on a warm summer night under a billion stars in a clear sky. With a gentle breeze. This brings me to peace every time.
Tim Maia, Racional (Vol 1) (Spotify): So ever since Wayne Montana dropped Jorge Ben’s Africa Brasil on me 20 years ago, I’ve had a thirst for that heavy mix of samba vibed with American funk and soul. A couple years after that, I heard Tim Maia on the City of God soundtrack with the song “O Camihna Do Bem.” That is a deep groove. So I went out and got some Tim Maia records and they fell flat for me. Wrong era or whatever. Earlier this year, a buddy of mine dropped a Tim Maia compilation on me. World Psychedelic Classics 4: Nobody Can Live Forever – The Existential Soul of Tim Maia. It’s like a collection of super bangers from the 70’s. Killer and relatively recently released. It put me back on the hunt and I finally came across one of the original studio albums. The compilation is great too, but so cool to find one of the originals. Psychedelic, funky, original.
TJO, Songs for Peacock (Bandcamp): Just put this one on today for the first time but spun it three times already. Dedicated to her late brother, Tara Jane revamps a bunch of 80’s covers and some other tunes that were on a mix tape he made her. Super beautiful broken down renditions of Aztec Camera, Siouxsie, Bananarma, Depeche Mode, Leonard Cohen. For me the striker here is her rendition of Cher‘s “Believe.” Believe it!
Khruangbin, LateNightTales: Khruangbin (Bandcamp): Ok so I’ve been jamming Khruanbin heavily the last year or two. And I picked this up thinking it was their new record. Instead, it’s a compilation curated by the band. A happy accident for me because it introduced me to a bunch of new killer musicians from their neck of the woods to all over the world. Great deep cuts from Houston, New York, Russia, South Korea, Tokyo etc. And a very familiar sounding one from Ethiopia in the Roha Band, which according to them is the “Funk brothers or Muscle Shoals guys of Ethiopia.”
Shabaka and the Ancestors, We Are Sent Here by History (Spotify): This is the perfect continuation of that spiritual Impulse vibe from back in the day mixed with a modern sound like what is coming out on International Anthem. Big nods from me to Black Monument Ensemble and Jeff Parker here, who are also in heavy rotation. A little Eddie Gale and Lonnie Liston Smith vibe in the mix too. We put this one on out in the back yard on the fourth of July when we were trying to drown out the big boom of the fireworks. Full volume Shabaka with a light show!! That fixed it.
Tame Impala, The Slow Rush (Spotify): Yeah. Not sure where this came from for me. I did a deep dive on Tame Impala this year after never having any of their records before. It hit the spot for me. I love the funkiness. I love the lushness. This one has been a boomerang for me all year. Keeps coming back.

Day’s Plays Guest Post: John Agnello



[You can learn more about John here.]
The Nude Party, Midnight Manor (Bandcamp): I started mixing this record March 2nd of 2020. The band was on tour. They stopped into to Kaleidoscope Sound on the the afternoon of the 3rd to meet and listen. My last day of mixing was March 10th. We didn’t finish the record on the 10th but we were very close. Coincidently, they played the show on the 10th in Raleigh at Kings. I suggested my wife Sharon go to check em out. They were great. I know a bunch of people that were there and young and old, everyone thought they were great. I drove down to Raleigh on the 11th. Soon after that, the entire country shut down. I finished mix tweaks over the next few weeks and it was released on October 2nd. They are really a fun and exciting band. They are really young with great taste in music. When shows start up again, they are gonna crush it.
Billie Eilish, Live At Third Man Records (YouTube): I happened upon this on one of Record Store Days this fall. Whenever I drive my daughter around with her friends, we listen to “her music”. There’s some shit, but there’s some cool music. Along with a few other artists, Billie Eilish sounds cool to me.  I love how it doesn’t sound like anything else on popular radio. Her vocal delivery is understated and powerful at the same time. The songs are quirky.  I really like everything about it. On this stripped down live record, she messes up in one of the choruses on “Bad Guy” and just starts laughing. That’s it. Live and real. She’s special.
Father John Misty, Pure Comedy: If this was a book, I’d read it. The lyrics are so great. Every story tells a picture. “Leaving LA” is a 13 minute epic that’s just verses. But each verse is a special bit of storytelling. “Pure Comedy” is a scathing look at the country today. He’s relentless and doesn’t sugar coat it. This is the first FJM I really dug into. I like the previous ones, but this is one of my favorite records of the decade. The sound of his voice and his inflections are perfect. Musically, I feel like he is channeling Elton John sideways on some of the material. Each song has a different dynamic and it flows wonderfully. Like I said, one of my favorites if not favorite from the 2010’s.
Funkadelic, Maggot Brain (Spotify): J Mascis turned me onto the record. It was the mid nineties. He couldn’t believe I never listened to it. The Eddie Hazel shred fest that is “Maggot Brain” and starts the record is a glorious 10 plus minutes. It’s all mood and sound and vibe. So fucking good. And then you realize the rest of the record is fantastic too. Directly after “Maggot Brain” you get the soul/folk/pop of “Can You Get To That”. It is a classic on a very different level. It’s so much fun. The song is a party. Although late in the game, I cherish this record.
Mark Lanegan, I’ll Take Care Of You (Bandcamp): I made a few of the Mark Lanegan Sub Pop records in the 90’s. I had nothing to do with this one.  It’s a covers record. It is one of, if not my favorite of, his records. He sings the shit out of every song. His voice is rough but clear. Tough but beautiful. I also love that I don’t really know any of the original songs. So to me there’s a bit of a bonus.  It sounds like his record, but then I discover The Gun Club or Fred Neil. He really picked some great songs. I also just finished his book. Sing Backwards And Weep is a dark recounting of the events that lead to him getting sober. I knew him before and I knew him after. I’m happy to say, we are still friends. His singing inspires me.
Teenage Fanclub, Bandwagonesque: One of my favorite records from the 90’s. Also, the band that got away. I was so into this record that when I found out that I might engineer the next one, I was crazy excited. Sadly, it fell through and I was left crushed and sad. I always wanted to record them but it was not meant to be. What struck me about this record was how every song was fantastic, no matter who sang it. Their voices were all complimentary to each other. Harmonies for miles. And song-wise, hooks, hooks, hooks. They also, got some interesting sounds. And they weren’t afraid of guitar feedback. They start “The Concept” with it. And some of my favorite opening lyrics. “She wears denim, wherever she goes, says she’s gonna buy some records by the Status Quo. Oh yeah, oh yeah!” So good.

November 2020 Plays

I recently had to confront a new bad habit: I wasn’t listening to enough music. It was a carryover I think, slurry from the very beginning of COVID, when it seemed like everything took forever while any larger sense of time vanished, absorbed into a kind of recursive panic and withdrawal.

Days became weeks became months, and in October I decided to set aside time each day to listen to one record in its entirety without other distraction or complement. It was a good start, but I missed some days and thought logging the nightly plays for the entirety of November would hold me to the plan.

It worked. I’m not sure I’ll do this again but if I do, I might include CDs and digital releases as well, instead of limiting the exercise to vinyl. I’m pretty attached to putting on music though, so I’m not sure how that would shake out. We’ll see.

It’s worth noting that these listenings offered no escape as such — I’ve had enough of that — but have rather given me something to experience outside of my usual routines, which is, of course, why I got into music in the first place.

11/01 Paul Bley, Alone, Again LP (Spotify)

11/02 Albert Ayler, Don Cherry, John Tchicai, Roswell Rudd, Gary Peacock, Sonny Murray, New York Eye and Ear Control LP (Spotify)

11/02 Luke Stewart, Exposure Quintet LP (Bandcamp)

11/03 Alan Braufman, The Fire Still Burns LP (Bandcamp)

11/04 Benjamin Britten, String Quartets Nos. 2 & 3, performed by the The Alberni Steing Quartet (Spotify)

11/05 Aquiles Navarro + Tcheser Holmes, Heritage of the Invisible II LP (Bandcamp)

11/06 Rob Mazurek, Alternate Moon Cycles LP (Bandcamp)

11/07 Michael Galasso, Scenes LP (Spotify)

11/08 Max Richter, Songs from Before LP (Spotify)

11/09 Matana Roberts, Coin Coin Volume Four: Memphis LP (Bandcamp)

11/10 Masayoshi Fujita, Book of Life LP (Bandcamp)

11/11 Erik Friedlander, American Power LP (Bandcamp)

11/12 Akira Miyazawa, My Piccolo LP (Discogs)

11/13 Richard Davis, Harvest LP (Discogs)

11/14 Julius Hemphill & Abdul Wadud, Live in New York_LP (Spotify)

11/15 Tsege Mariam Gebru, Spielt Eigene Kompositionen LP (Spotify — this is not the album I have but rather the entire session from which the release I have is culled.)

11/16 Hamiett Bluiett, Orchestra, Duo & Septet LP (Discogs)

11/17 Morton Feldman, For Brunita Marcus (performed by Lenio Liatsou) LP (Discogs or a different performance/recording on Spotify)

11/18 John Coltrane / Alice Coltrane, Cosmic Music LP (Spotify)

11/19 Rashied Ali / Frank Lowe, Duo Exchange LP (Bandcamp)

11/20 Anthony Davis Hemispheres LP (Discogs)

11/21 Leroy Jenkins, The Legend of Ai Glatson LP (Spotify)

11/22 The Pyramids, King of Kings LP (Spotify)

11/23 Black Unity Trio, Al-Fatihah LP (Discogs)

11/24 Wildflowers: the New York Loft Jazz Sessions, Vol. 1 LP (Spotify)

11/25 Wildflowers: the New York Loft Jazz Sessions, Vol. 2 LP (Spotify)

11/26 Robert Aiki Aubrey Lowe & Ariel Kalma, FRKWYS Vol. 12: We Know Each Other Somehow LP (Spotify)

11/26 Rob Mazurek – Exploding Star Orchestra, Dimensional Stardust LP (Bandcamp)

11/27 Alessandro Cortini, Forse 1 LP (Bandcamp)

11/28 Jeremy Cunningham, The Weather Up There LP (Bandcamp)

11/29 Philip Glass, Music in Twelve Parts: Parts 1 & 2 LP (Discogs

11/30 Freedom, Rhythm & Sound: Revolutionary Jazz & the Civil Rights Movement 1963-82, Volume 2 LP (Discogs)