| October 2001 In Praise of Boxed Sets
Since the advent of the compact disc in the early 1980s, we’ve started to see a real upturn in boxed-set retrospective releases. They seem to have sprouted like weeds in a summer garden. It was as though the compact disc made these type of sets a more realistic idea for record companies, as they could put more music on fewer discs than they ever could with LPs (not to mention the durability factor). I can remember the first boxed set I purchased, the CD version of Eric Clapton’s Crossroads. I purchased it mostly for the remastered "Layla," but I ended up enjoying most of the rest of the music in the box. From there I was off and running (or should I say, collecting).
About the only problem I have with boxed sets is that once I’ve listened to them, if I have the original albums, I rarely grab the box when I want to give that particular artist’s work a spin. Does anybody else have the same problem? I usually end up just grabbing the individual album, mostly for convenience's sake. That way, I don’t have to paw through all the records (or CDs) just to find what I’m thirsting for at the moment. Then again, if I’m after the best sound (and what "audiophile" worthy of that title isn’t?), many of the jazz boxes I have offer better sonics than the original releases. Six of one, half a dozen of the other, I guess. Today, it seems anyone who ever recorded anything now has a boxed set. In the case of a really popular artist, it seems as if every burp, cough, and/or mumble is re-released in a box. I guess that’s OK for avid collectors, at least on CD, where you can easily skip over tracks you don’t want to listen to. But on vinyl -- whew -- those extra tracks can make for long listening sessions, not to mention interrupting the musical flow. It’s a veritable flood of boxes out there, kind of makes it hard to separate the wheat from the chaff, if you know what I mean. However, having all these minor artists boxes now being released does come with a serendipitous side benefit, if you’re willing to take a chance. Should you choose to, you may end up discovering a new favorite artist.
Perusing one Mosaic’s early catalogs, I happened across the description of a boxed set (four LPs, yeah man!) of a tenor saxophonist named Tina (aka Harold Floyd) Brooks entitled, not surprisingly, The Complete Blue Note Recordings Of Tina Brooks. Glancing into my Penguin Guide To Jazz, I found I couldn’t locate anything about Tina Brooks, and it wasn’t until I purchased my All Music Guide To Jazz that I learned that Brooks had, in fact, released an album for Blue Note in 1960 called True Blue. So here besides the released record, but there were three other albums worth of music that had never seen the light of vinyl -- brand-new music.
Two weeks later it arrived. Upon my first listen, I was floored. This was fabulous music. Brooks had a sound I’d never heard before. It's been described as a keening, prayerful, even spiritual style of playing. And I agree with all of those. Listening to each of the four albums, in order of recording date, I could hear Brooks mature, hear how he began to achieve the sound he was after, until, by the last album, he had found that sound and was ready to expand on it. Then, suddenly, he was gone. I was amazed that most of this great music had never been presented to the public. It wasn’t until after I read the accompanying booklet that I began to understand why Brooks had never made it big: drugs, which ruined quite a few careers back then (and still do today, unfortunately), and Brooks’ was a shining example.
It would be fair to say that Brooks, who died in 1974, is much better known today than he ever was while still an active musician. The one album released in his lifetime by Blue Note, True Blue (in mono only), now sells for upwards of $800 -- that is, if you can find an original copy. Besides the Mosaic box (now out of print, although you can find it on the used market occasionally), Blue Note Records reissued True Blue on both vinyl and CD (also, now out of print) in their Connoisseur series. Two of Brooks' other albums, Minor Move and Back To The Tracks, have been released on CD in the same series (these, I do believe, are still available). Back To The Tracks was originally numbered, sequenced, announced for release and even pictured on the inner sleeves of albums by Blue Note back in the '60s, then forgotten. Classic Records did a reissue of it on 180-gram vinyl a few years back (now, sadly, out of print too), which sounded even better than Mosaic’s. There is also, rumor has it, a Japanese CD of the fourth album, although I’ve never actually seen a copy. But all this superb music would have been closed to me if not for the chance I took in ordering the boxed set. As I’ve said before, serendipity can strike in peculiar places, if you’ll just take the time to investigate. So let’s put this boxed-set explosion to good use before it disappears. Take chances; the rewards can be the stuff musical dreams are made of. ...John Crossett GO BACK TO: |
I love boxed sets,
and the more complete they are, the better. I already own more than my fair share, both on
CD as well as vinyl. I will admit, however, that most, if not all, are jazz related. Not
that that’s a bad thing, but now that I’ve thought a bit, it's limiting
musically. What I love most about boxed sets is the thought that I can pull one out, pop
it open, and listen to whatever tune by a particular artist, whenever the mood strikes. As
a collector, I also get juiced by the feeling of completeness a boxed set gives me. It
sure beats the tar out of trying to locate, in playable condition, all of the original
albums (not to mention being able to afford them!). Then, too, most boxed sets come with
unissued alternate, or not so alternate, takes. Yum.
Most of the boxed sets available today have been
issued by one of the major record labels, probably because they control most of the tapes.
Sound quality varies greatly, depending on who does the remastering, who’s idea it
was, the artist involved, when it was reissued and how committed those people who did the
reissue are to good sound. I’ll leave it to you to decide whether or not all of the
boxes now on the shelves are worthy of your attention, as many of them have been out for
quite a while now, and early CD transfers leave much to be desired sonically.
Most of you have heard of Mosaic Records, right?
They have worked hard to become THE pre-eminent reissue company, mostly of older, classic
jazz recordings, although they are branching more into blues lately. They have, for quite
a while now, been reissuing boxed sets both of the famous (Thelonious Monk, Bud Powell,
Johnny Hodges, Duke Ellington, Count Basie), the not-so-famous (Phil Woods, Stuff Smith,
Don Cherry and Chico Hamilton) and the downright obscure (Herbie Nichols, Serge Chaloff,
Gerald Wilson and Kid Ory). It was within the latter category that I made what has now
become a most fortuitous discovery.
But still, I wasn’t ready to pounce quite yet.
That had to wait all of 15 more minutes until I read and digested the list of musicians
who played with Brooks on these four records (and yes, the set came in CD too). Talents
such as Lee Morgan, Freddie Hubbard, Blue Mitchell, or Johnny Coles on trumpet; Sonny
Clark, Duke Jordan, or Kenny Drew on piano; Art Blakey, Art Taylor, or Philly Joe Jones on
drums; Paul Chambers, Doug Watkins, Sam Jones and Wilber Ware on bass; and on one cut,
altoist Jackie McLean. All-stars all. Brooks, it seems, got to play with the best Blue
Note and Alfred Lion (Blue Note’s owner) could offer. What I began to wonder then was
why he wasn’t better known, and why only one of the four albums had ever been
released? And when I start wondering about something musical, it’s a sure sign
I’m going to buy sooner or later. In this case, it was sooner. I bit, called Mosaic,
and ordered the set.
Still, I was hooked on his sound. I began, thanks in no small part
to the complete discography in the back of the booklet, to search out anything and
everything Brooks had played on. And while I’ve done fairly well in that I’ve
acquired most of his sideman work, I still have a few records to find. But hey, the search
is half the fun, right? Brooks certainly was busy during the short time he spent as an
active recording artist (he started his recording career in 1958, and was off the scene by
1962). He recorded four albums under his own name and ten others in which he participated
as a sideman -- three for Jimmy Smith, two for Kenny Burrell, one each for Freddie
Hubbard, Jackie McLean and Howard McGhee and two for Freddie Redd, all but McGhee’s
on Blue Note.