Tuesday Vinyl

I’m buckling down with work for the next couple hours prior to heading out on the bike and to keep concentrated (aside from procrastinating with this blog post, of course) I’m listening to a little Jazz Boner – big band stylewith the ‘Jazz Vol.8:  Big Bands‘  album.


I know absolutely zilcho about this album or any of the bands featured on it.  All I do know is that it is a featured recording released in 1953 on the Folkways Recordings series of albums and showcasing big bands performing between 1924 and 1934.

In other words, it was way before my time.

I found it at the recent Hamilton Record fair and when I see a record – any record – from that particular Folkways label – I snatch that shit up.  Call it my own “Vinyl Rescue” charity, if you will.  The cover is a little beat up and there are certainly a few snaps, crackles, pops and even a little skip on Side B but that doesn’t mean it also doesn’t deserve a good home.

I’m a total softy when it comes to old wayward records.

What can I say?

Featured on the album are such little-known big bands as The Charleston Chasers, McKinney’s Cotton Pickers, Fletcher Henderson, Charlie Johnson, Jimmie Lunceford and his Chickasaw Sybncopators, Bennie Moten and my favorite, The Little Chocolate Dandies.  Oh, there’s also another lesser known guy as well named Duke Ellington who, apparently has himself his own orchestra – but you likely haven’t heard anything about that guy before, right?

No, of course you haven’t.


About crazytigerrabbitman

I am a fat guy and always will be in the same way they say that “once an alcoholic; always an alcoholic”. Eventually I got upset about my poor health and ballooning body frame so I decided to change things for the better. Some people sign up for Weight Watchers, Jenny Craig, or whatever fad diet program it is that happens to be occupying the majority of air time on the boob tube. Other people prefer to run out and purchase the latest, fold away, piece of shit being hawked by some celebrity has-been. Me? I decided to take up triathlon. I had abused my body over the years with bacon cheeseburgers, pints of beer and double-dipped donuts, and the time had now come to abuse my body with physical exertion, perseverance and hard work instead; penitence in it's purest form. The time had come to kick my ass. I am Terry Nash and I am the “fat and the furious”.
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