I bought this sampler back in 1981, when I was 13 years old and had a paper route. It was a double vinyl LP for $2.99, which was quite a steal.
In retrospect, it was a pretty much all over the place musically, but then, so was I.
Someone mentioned this comp on Facebook a few months ago and I ended up looking it up on Discogs.
I decided to try to see how many of the tracks I could track down, 35 years later, and was pleasantly amazed to find that, with only a little work, I was able to find that every track was legally streamable. (Re-assembling this on Spotify, Tidal, or other services is left as an exercise for the reader.)
When you think about it, that’s pretty incredible: a compilation of new artists, selected specifically for their relative obscurity, and 35 years later all of the songs are easily available through the mechanisms most used by modern listeners to play music in their homes and on the go. What are the odds that a slate of 22 catalog artists from 1946 would have been available in 1981?
I don’t know if this is useful at all if you don’t subscribe to Apple Music, but I wanted to see how their new(ish) embedding/linking tools work. It’s also an excuse to share a few songs from what has been my favorite record label for a few years now, Ghost Box Records.
Unfortunately I’m not sure if this is useful at all to non-subscribers, but I put a few minutes into compiling a playlist on Rdio this morning.
The idea behind it its simple: songs that get in and get out in less than two and a half minutes. No flab, no self-indulgence, not many solos. 😃
The embedded iframe is currently a Flash wrapper. (sigh)
Maybe they fix that someday...
An Animal that knows who it is, one that has a sense of his own identity, is
a discontented creature, doomed to create new problems for himself for the
duration of his stay on this planet. Since neither the mouse nor the chip
knows what is, he is spared all the vexing problems that follow this
discovery. But as soon as the human animal who asked himself this question
emerged, he plunged himself and his descendants into an eternity of doubt
and brooding, speculation and truth-seeking that has goaded him through the
centures as reelentlessly as hunger or sexual longing. The chimp that does
not know that he exists is not driven to discover his origins and is spared
the tragic necessity of contemplating his own end. And even if the animal
experimenters succeed in teaching a chimp to count one hundred bananas or
to play chess, the chimp will develop no science and he will exhibit no
appreciation of beauty, for the greatest part of man’s wisdom may be traced
back to the eternal questions of beginnings and endings, the quest to give
meaning to his existence, to life itself.
— Selma Fraiberg, _The Magic Years_, pg. 193