- A
- A
- A
Recently more recordings have started showing up on audiophile vinyl within a few years of their initial release, including albums originally only available as CDs or downloads. Such is the case with Priscilla Ahn’s A Good Day, which came out on Blue Note in 2008 and has already resurfaced as a MoFi Original Master Recording. Musically A Good Day deserves such top-shelf treatment: consisting of well-crafted pop songs with a sunny sound and sudden twists, it’s an unusually mature debut album. Acoustically, too, it’s a treat, combining warm, natural sonics with studiocraft that becomes more intricate as the songs unfold. MoFi does a fine job of revealing the details of the recordings while concealing the artifice. It doesn’t hurt that Korean-American Priscilla Ahn has a lovely voice and that her lyrics manage to evoke a childlike view of the world without seeming coy or cute. It’s almost disarming, frankly, to hear someone celebrate simple pleasures without a hint of irony; but hey, sometimes it’s good to be disarmed. I’m happy to report that Ahn’s sophomore effort, When You Grow Up, is as good as her debut or better, and was recorded on ready-for-vinyl analog tape. That said, if you haven’t heard her yet, start here.
By Jeff Wilson
This will take some explaining, but I can connect the dots between pawing through LPs at a headshop called Elysian Fields in Des Moines, Iowa, as a seventh grader, and becoming the Music Editor for The Absolute Sound. At that starting point—around 1970/71—Elysian Fields had more LPs than any other store in Des Moines. Staring at all the colorful covers was both tantalizing and frustrating. I had no idea who most of the artists were, because radio played only a fraction of what was current. To figure out what was going on, I realized that I needed to build a record collection—and as anyone who’s visited me since high school can testify, I succeeded. Record collecting was still in my blood when, starting in the late 1980s, the Cincinnati Public Library book sale suddenly had an Elysian Fields quantity of LPs from people who’d switched to CDs. That’s where I met fellow record hawk Mark Lehman, who preceded me as music editor of TAS. Mark introduced me to Jonathan Valin, whose 1993 detective novel The Music Lovers depicts the battles between record hawks at library sales. That the private eye in the book, Harry Stoner, would stumble upon a corpse or two while unraveling the mystery behind the disappearance of some rare Living Stereo platters made perfect sense to me. After all, record collecting is serious business. Mark knew my journalistic experience included concert reviews for The Cincinnati Enquirer and several long, sprawling feature articles in the online version of Crawdaddy. When he became TAS music editor in 2008, he contacted me about writing for the magazine. I came on board shortly after the latest set of obituaries had been written for vinyl—and, as fate had it, right when the LP started to make yet another unexpected comeback. Suddenly, I found myself scrambling to document all the record companies pressing vinyl. Small outfits were popping up world-wide, and many were audiophile-oriented, plus already existing record companies began embracing the format again. Trying to keep track of everything made me feel, again, like that overwhelmed seventh grader in Elysian Fields, and as Music Editor I’ve found that keeping my finger on the pulse of the music world also requires considerable detective work. I’ve never had a favorite genre, but when it comes time to sit down and do some quality listening, for me nothing beats a well-recorded small-group jazz recording on vinyl. If a stereo can give me warmth and intimacy, tonal accuracy, clear imaging, crisp-sounding cymbals, and deep, woody-sounding bass, then I’m a happy camper.
More articles from this editorRead Next From Music
Schumann: Piano Quartet & Quintet
- Apr 16, 2024
Mendelssohn: Symphony No. 4 (1833 & 1834 versions)
- Apr 09, 2024
The Resonance Between
- Apr 02, 2024
Frid: The Complete Works for Violin and Piano
- Mar 30, 2024