Collecting: Interview with Jennifer Gariepy

Jennifer Gariepy writes, paints, reads, sings and dances in her living room in Detroit, Michigan, and beyond. She recently took the time to answer some questions for me about her record collection via email. Thank you Jennifer!

How many records do you have?

Well, they take up about 3 linear feet of shelf space, which translates to 216 records, give or take a few. Not a very big collection.

Do you remember the first kind of music that you got excited about buying on vinyl?

The first record I ever bought was Men at Work's first album, and it got me excited about LPs in general. For the first time I found out that a band's songs ran a wider gamut than what I'd heard on the radio, and that I really liked the things that didn't get played on the radio at all. I haven't listened to that album in years. I wonder if it still sounds good.

Next I got into British music. I was a teenager in the 1980s, so you can imagine some of the crap I have: Duran Duran albums. They all sound pretty awful now. I moved on to Bauhaus, Tones on Tail, “How Soon Is Now?” by the Smiths, Pornography by the Cure, gothy stuff. Nothing terribly outré. The words didn’t attract me as
much as the sounds–

the darker the music the better. I like spooky, haunting songs. Creepy sounds. I have echoey rainy nights in my mind’s eye a lot, and those tunes conjured those images so well. Sometimes I like a song just for a single split-second riff, and that’s what guided me most of the time back then.
 

What kinds of records are in your collection?

I like to sing and dance in my living room (pity my neighbors), and I also use music to exit my mind for another place, so my collection is split between poppy stuff like Marshall Crenshaw on the one hand and on the other. . . a really mixed bag of stuff. Almost the only thing it all has in common is that the songs take me to vanished or imaginary places. I’ve got little blocks of surf music,
funk, bagpipes,
garage rock: things I associate with different places and times. I love baroque music and medieval songs, so I have some compilations. Bach’s harpsichord music is just fascinating–wheels within wheels–you can really see the connections between mathematics and musical composition in those works. Spanish classical guitar music is like that, too. I enter an imaginary world that is like an armillary sphere: neat and orderly but also as complicated as a Rube Goldberg machine. Late 60s and early 70s music evokes an imaginary Detroit I enjoy retreating into via music, so I’ve got some MC5, Blue Cheer, 13^thFloor Elevators, psychedelic stuff.

I never really realized this before, but I have a big collection of comedy albums. Bob and Doug Mackenzie’s first and Weird Al’s first two were given me as birthday presents when they were released. I've got bales of Firesign Theater albums and some of the stuff Proctor and Bergman did on their own. I haven't listened to all of the Firesign ones yet--they came to me as a complete collection from a guy getting rid of all his vinyl. I’m saving them for when I really need a laugh.

There's a strong thread
of humor that runs 
through the rest of my collection, too. Records you wouldn't consider comedy at all have their moments. The Fugs album I have, It Crawled into My Hand, Honest!, sounds like a medieval choir on acid. William S. Burroughs is hilarious reading his work. You certainly wouldn't call a Gil Scott-Heron album comedy, but “Whitey on the Moon” and “The Revolution Will Not Be Televised” struck me as great stand-up satire in the political cabaret tradition.

Some of the Kinks’ songs are high comedy, which is what drove me to buy their albums. I have a lot of Jazz Butcher albums for the same reason. I heard “Death Dentist” on midnight radio, and I almost fell out of bed laughing. Like the Kinks, he makes funny songs you can dance to. I like some of the old music hall and vaudeville songs because of their odd brand of humor. Gracie Fields’ songs, like “The Biggest Aspidistra in the World,” are surreal and funny at the same time. B-52's albums are like Yoko crossed with a busload of singing drag queens. Totally nuts.

Chance has played a big part in my record collecting. What’s on the cutout rack at the record store? Anything new in the local music bin? What are those albums sitting on the curb with the garbage? I have a pile of Grand Funk Railroad and prog rock albums from the guy who was getting rid of his vinyl: King Crimson, ELP, Robert Fripp. I never would have gone out and bought a comprehensive collection of any of these, but I have them nonetheless. There are so many other things I don’t have that I would get first, like Can.

Do you spend a lot of time shopping for records? How often do you go out in search of something you want?

Buying books is my primary vice, and I spend most of my spare change on the monthly pilgrimage to the bookstore. When I do go to the record

store, it’s either because I’ve just been to the dentist (my favorite record store’s up the street) or I’m hunting for something. I always look through almost every bin in the joint, and every time I end up buying something else I just have to have, whether I find what I was looking for or not.
The last time I went shopping because I really, really wanted to listen to a certain 10-second riff in a Wishbone Ash song. Can’t remember what else I got on that trip, a couple things.

Do you have any records or group of records that you treasure most?

I really dig Betty Davis’s

raunchy funk. That is flat out the best music to play whilst drawing and painting. Oo-oo, hot! I channel that blazing energy into my work, and the pictures practically draw themselves. An English label reissued a best-of comp and all her albums on vinyl back in the ‘90s. I’ve got the comp, but I’d love to get my sweaty little mitts on her other albums.

Alice Coltrane’s Journey in Satchidananda and Ptah, The El Daoud are so beautiful. There’s a box set of Nick Drake’s albums, Fruit Tree, that has some of his last recordings, just voice and guitar. His voice is magic, and his fingerpicking is ethereal. I like the spareness of those pieces so much better than his orchestrated stuff.

Other things I like for sentimental reasons. Traffic’s first album and The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys remind me of a friend who lives very far away, same with Blind Faith. Canned Heat is great makeout music. “Breathe Easy” reminds me of a certain––my, my, my. I’ll keep that to myself.

What are some recent things you've picked up and how did you find them?

My most recent find is a short stack of 78s. I saw a garage sale sign in front of a factory, and there they were, hundreds and hundreds of some of the worst records you can think of. They also had some good stuff, though. I picked out a copy of “Stranded in the Jungle” by the Cadets and a bunch of hillbilly songs that looked like they might be interesting. I also found a few LP’s: Pearl Bailey singing “adults-only” songs from her nightclub act and two comedy albums, Nipsy Russell

and Dick Gregory. I haven’t listened to any of it except for “Stranded in the Jungle” and a recording of locomotive sounds. I guess you’re supposed to spin that record when you’re playing with your train set. It’s pretty entertaining to listen to it and daydream of a man who looks like Mr. Rogers playing with a huge train layout while his wife’s asking him, “Are you listening to those damn trains again?”

Is there anything particularly rare or exotic or bizarre in your collection? Or something that you think another record collector would really love to have?

I’ve got a couple Spooky Tooth albums. I guess those are hard to come by, but not crazy rare.

What records are you looking for right now?

Betty Davis’s eponymous first album and her They Say I’m Different and Nasty Gal.

I would love to have a couple Folkways records: Sounds of the Junkyard and Nickelodeon and Calliope. I haven’t heard the former. The latter is like listening to a phantom state fair. I imagine insanely complex machines chugging out tunes, shaking as they wheeze and crash and boom their way through “Pop Goes the Weasel” and other classics.

Growing up I listened to the records my folks had, some of which was interesting stuff. My dad was into the greatest hits of the Civil War era, popular songs from the turn of the twentieth century, some ragtime, and bagpipe music. The bagpipe music I loved the best. So haunting and beautiful, at least to my ear. Imagine being in an English army trying to conquer Scotland, camping at night in the damp and cold, and hearing THAT coming over the next hill. Psychological warfare, Scottish style. The other songs are just fun to sing: “Wait ‘til the Sun Shines, Nelly,” “Rings on My Fingers,” “The Monarch of the Sea.” My one grandmother used to sing “She's Only a Bird in a Gilded Cage” and my other grandma played stuff like “The Sidewalks of New York” on a little electric harmonium she had in the back room. It would be nice to hear those songs again.

Collecting: Interview with Andrew Barrett

Andrew Barrett writes music, plays guitar and sings for his band April in the Orange. He also translates Ancient Greek literature at the University of Rochester. I interviewed him at his home (which is also my home) in Rochester, NY on February 12, 2011. 

How many records are in your collection?

I'm not exactly sure, but I think I own somewhere between 200 and 300 records. Honestly, I've never actually sat down and counted them. If I ever need the aid of an obsessive task to help put some shattered thoughts into focus, or to buttress some serious procrastination, then I will probably calculate the vinyl tally.

What kinds of records do you collect?

My records mostly fall under the big, multicolored tent of "rock." I have most of the usual suspects from the classic era, but things taper off quite dramatically after 1980. Pop culture wise, I have never been able to muster much love for Reagan time and its pastel straight to video digital reverb hairspray aesthetics. There are many great records from the '80s, but mostly, it seems, they grew out of various remote patches of the leftfield wilds and have thus eluded me. Within the aforementioned rainbow rock tent, I would say that my most beloved niche is British folk revival and folk-rock records from 1965 through the early '70s. Outside of rock, I like to collect Folkways records of field recordings from around the world and records from the Nonesuch Explorer series. I also have a tidy little Jazz section in my collection, which would be much larger if funds permitted. And finally, I make an effort to collect John Fahey's non-Christmas records.

Could you mention a few of the post-1980 records you have in your collection?

Firstly, we have the contemporary Detroit section which is comprised of the LPs and 45s that our friends have made. Beyond, I have the first four Talking Heads albums. I think Brian Eno's production on those records (excluding their debut) is incredibly inspired and unique and comes close to elevating the music to timeless status. Those records have the usual David Byrne twitch but also all the aural depth and detail you come to expect from the best psychedelia. I also have a few of Tom Verlaine's solo records, which, if I am going to be honest with myself, I often find lacking in comparison to Television.

Verlaine's guitars are always crystalline on those records but where is the modal fire in his playing? We also have a reissue of the first Beat Happening record, a copy of Black Flag Damaged (which I found at my grandmother's house. I'll leave the story of its provenance to your imagination), and a copy of X Wild Gift which I was lucky enough to find at a garage sale for a dollar. And I have a copy of Bruce Springsteen Nebraska, which is an album to cherish in these grey, rampant plutocrat times.

How did you begin to collect records?

I am of that age where you grow up around your parents' records and your family's records and after you've been listening to them for years and years, they become familiar. But, at the same time, they never lose the aura of the exotic, relic-like object. Also CDs and the jewel case were coming into vogue during the springtime of my youth. The hard, molded plastic and the tiny, shiny silverness of the CD experience provided a thought-provoking contrast to the large size, colorful cardboard packaging and sheer blackness of the vinyl record. It was not long afterward that the aesthetic values of vinyl trumped those of the CD in my mind. A bit later on I became a full convert to vinyl's unique sonic charms and was able to really appreciate what vinyl has to offer in terms of warmth and bass. All the usual cliches.

How long have you been accumulating records and what was the first one you got?

They have been piling up for about ten years. My very first record (if you don't count Masters of the Universe "The Power of Point Dread"/"Danger at Castle Grayskull") was the DJ Jazzy Jeff and the Fresh Prince 45 Parents Just Don't Understand, which my aunt bought for me when I was a wee, rebellion-minded thing.

But honestly, I wasn't a big music fan as a kid. I was more into drawing pictures of knights in outrageous suits of armor and learning about Civil War arcana. As a teenager, I slowly began to acquire (or take, really) all of the interesting records floating around my family. So, I got my mom's records (British folk and rock), my aunt's records (mostly random 45s) and my uncle's records (Miles Davis and John Coltrane) and that was the start of my collection. I can't remember the first records I set out to buy myself.

How do you find the records you want?

Mostly, I go to record store, but occasionally people I know will give me records. Lately, I've gotten some records on eBay since we don't have a car and getting around here is difficult. Especially in the winter.

What is your favorite record that someone has given you?

Baden Powell and Vinicius de Moraes Os Afro Sambas, which my girlfriend brought back from France. It is a great French pressing housed in that weird to the touch Euro-paper. I have no idea of the worth or rarity of this record but I am proud to own it. The Afro Sambas is one of my favorite pieces of recorded music of all time and is not a very easy album to find on vinyl in this country. The musicians on this record conjure up some indescribable and cerebral poetic, ritual music. 

 
Several years ago, my friend Khristy bought me a copy of Paniagua's interpretations of Ancient Greek musical fragments, which I already had on CD. I think she found it in Chicago. It was originally released in the late '70s and is another record that I love having in its vinyl incarnation. It has a lovely gatefold full of notes and pictures and what have you.  Paniagua's particular reconstruction of Ancient Greek music is theatrical and serene. A great record.

And what is something interesting you've found on eBay lately?

John Fahey The Voice of the Turtle. Hmmm. This is a record that I have been wanting to get my hands on for a long time. It isn't easy to find, necessarily. Although, I did see a very nice copy of it once in a record store in Massachusetts, but the price tag did not agree with my wallet. Hmmm.

Voice of the Turtle isn't just a record, it's a conceptual art piece designed to drive you insane in the most delicious way, if you happen to be inclined towards neurotic intellectualism.  Fahey snuck recordings of 78s on the album, got the labels all wrong on purpose, claimed songs that were actually him weren't and then blamed the whole thing on elves, evil woman, the Old Testament and Blind Joe Death. What really makes this record a gem is the lavish gatefold, which contains a booklet that tells a rambling story concerning half-real people, and is illustrated with pictures of other people who don't exist.  Voice of the Turtle plays with the medium in the same way that the three-sided Monty Python record does. I love that kind of stuff. The music is great too. It has an eerie, fathoms deep feel and covers a wide spectrum of styles, ranging from gamelan to intoxicated Didier Hebert covers.

Do you have any item or group items that you treasure the most, aside from those you've already mentioned?

I get a great deal of spiritual nourishment from my Folkways and Nonesuch Explorer records. You can tell when the imperative behind the music you are listening to is personal, divine or cultural instead of vain and monetary. All of the music in my Folkways and Nonesuch Explorer collection leaves me feeling just a little bit better about humanity while reminding me of the inscrutable nature of my own internal drive to make music. I also have some early Hawkwind records, which can affect me just as deeply as the Folkways and Nonesuch records, in as much as they are hi-fi recordings of regular dudes pulling jam after jam out of their unadulterated space-hippie id. And at its best, my little collection of British Folk can leave me with similar feelings.

What are some of the highlights of that?

The Brit folk? I would have to say the Bert Jansch records, which I've been steadily accumulating on my own, are a highlight. Although we have to keep our American version of Jack Orion turned around. He just looks like a monster on that cover. I don't know how they managed to turn such a handsome rake into such a draggley beast.

It almost seems like they snapped a shot of a hungover Bert with an experimental wide-angle, vertical lens. But to get more substantive, Jansch is one of those musicians whose playing emanates from a pure vision. Nobody sounds like him and nobody ever will sound like him. To my ears, his acoustic guitar playing and his voice are magical, organic extensions of his mundane, day to day self. The Fairport Convention records, the Fotheringay record and Shirley Collins with The Albion Country Band are further highlights from the Brit folk collection. And then of course there is The Incredible String Band. They bring playfulness and musicianship to their work in equal measure and I find that to be tremendously inspiring and also comforting. After the world ends, someone will eventually sing it back into existence with a smile on their face.

Anything else that's really special to you?

I have a handful Jazz records that are very important to me. I inherited John Coltrane A Love Supreme from my uncle. What can you say about A Love Supreme that has not already been said? A perfect work of art. I also got Miles Davis Bitches Brew, Live Evil, and Big Fun from my uncle's vinyl collection. Those records are just an inexhaustible treasure trove of aural textures and grooves. I also have a perfectly serviceable and original copy of Charles Mingus Blues & Roots, which I picked up myself.  Blues & Roots is one of Mingus' best make me wanna shout ritual jazz records. 

And then there is Bill Evans The Village Vanguard Sessions. The packaging of the record is ho-hum with its 70's reissue aesthetic. But the music...some of the most deeply felt, beautiful and quietly virtuosic music ever recorded.

Do you have anything that other collectors might particularly appreciate?

Its a fairly mongrel collection, so I don't really think so. However, I do have an original British copy of Fairport Convention's debut album (the pre-Sandy Denny one with Judy Dyble on vocals), which is in pretty good condition. My mom bought the record when she went to England in the early '70s. I also have the Beatles "Strawberry Fields" and "Paperback Writer" singles complete with picture sleeves.

I'm sure the collectors would appreciate that. The whole rock music game changes with "Strawberry Fields" and that picture sleeve. It is hi-art from here on out with backwards cymbals and the Beatles in an ornate picture frame.

What are you looking for right now?

I'm not looking for anything actively at the moment because I'm trying to get a handle on the budget, but if I happen to see something that I've had rattling around in the back of my head I would most likely buy it. It would probably be a John Fahey record or odds and ends from the British Folk era or more Folkways and Nonesuch explorer records.

Do you have any particular philosophy that guides your record purchases?

I'm not going to buy a record if I don't plan to listen to it. For me, records are not collector's items but objects of myriad sensual pleasures - they're meant to be heard, touched, and gazed upon. They want to be fetishized in the best possible way. So, I'm not going to buy anything just to put it in a vault or to turn around and sell it.