CD's - what are they good for?

About 5 years ago I threw away a wheelie bin full of CD’s. I had listened to them once and had no intention of listening to any of them again (you know “Eskimos and Egypt” “Spacehog” - shit like that). I needed to slim down my collection as I had moved house and didn’t have as much storage. It turned out to be a painless process and I have never thought “Oohhh where is that ‘Phil Collins Hits’ CD?” only to find it has been binned. I don’t regret anything – so why do I find it so hard to swap to digital music and let go of the rest my CD’s?

I keep a back up drive of my MP3’s as I’m worried that should my hard drive die, I will loose all of my music. Yet, I know I always have the back up of the CD’s. But each of the boxes in my spare room contains around 50 CD’s. There are 27 boxes - so that’s about 1350 CD’s (I have sold/thrown away/given away about as many in recent years too). That’s a lot of weight and storage space for a ‘back up for a back up’. It’s ridiculous.

Increasingly I am realising that the CD’s might be a 'back up' for a lot of my music, but there is an increasing amount  which I only own in digital download format. Sometimes this is because I have no choice and the music is only available as a download, sometimes it is out of choice, but I am becoming increasingly comfortable with the idea that music doesn’t have to come on a black or silver disc. I never play my CD’s or vinyl anymore and only use them as a source to rip. I play music from my phone via Bluetooth in my car and home; I use last.fm on my Xbox and play MP3’s constantly from my PC. Thus, it is totally illogical that I continue to buy music in physical formats.

I am trying hard to give up physical releases and weaning myself off by only buying digital downloads of artists who are new to me (such as Chairlift’s “Something” this week) and sticking to physical releases for artists I love and consider myself a collector of (Pet Shop Boys, Nine Inch Nails etc etc). I hope I can stay on the path to CD sobriety; my spare room is small enough as it is and I really don’t want to have to throw away that Sven Vath CD – oh no, hold on a minute……..

In time?

Until recently I always thought it was pretty easy to play in time with a sequencer. Since acquiring an electric guitar I have realised it is in fact, not that easy. Yet syncopation or just plain ‘playing out of time’ drives me mad.

Nowhere is the difficult nature of playing in time with a sequencer more painfully illustrated than on records made in the late 70’s. Take ‘Beat the clock’ by Sparks – you an almost hear the drummer cursing the producer (the inimitable Giorgio Moroder) as he frantically tries to keep up with the pulsating bass sequence. I always cringe at the timing on Gary Numan / Tubeway Army records such as “Me! I disconnect from you” and especially “We are so fragile” where the poor drummer stands no change until the guitar comes in to cover the millisecond variations in timing which sound so wrong.

 

Of course Mike Oldfield couldn’t stand things being out of time either and even went as far as re-recording “Tubular Bells” so that it was quantized. But would “Replicas” sound as good if it were re-recorded? Well “Tubular Bells 2003” would suggest some bits would sound better and others not.

Personally I would love it if the multi track was stuck in pro-tools and quantized. I can hear some people saying “Oh noooooooo, that’s takes away from its charm and naivety” or “It’s the only human element in an electronic recording and adds something”. Well no, sorry, it just spoils it. And whilst yes, I now appreciate that it’s hard to play along to a click track or sequencer, it doesn’t mean I want to listen to it.

Do I actually NEED you? Break and I'll know.....

It seem the true test of whether you actually need a piece of gear in your studio comes when it breaks down.

In 2003 I was in the market for some new gear; an analogue modelling synth to be precise. The object of my GAS was a Korg MS2000B. I seem to remember it was about £500, but something tells me it must have been more.

Anyway, during the journey to “Sound Control” I suddenly decided to take a different route and stop off at the second hand store. This was purely on a whim. Ever since I was young this shop has been an Aladdin’s cave of instruments and gear (albeit overpriced). What made me take a detour and go to the shop I have no idea to this day. But I’m glad I did.

My SuperNova II - dead

With the £500 cash in my pocket for the Korg I wandered into the smelly and cramped second hand shop to be greeted by a vision in blue. I’d never seen a Novation Supernova II keyboard before. The rack was almost obligatory in the early 90’s, especially if you recorded dance music, but the keyboards are much more scarce. The price of this rare and beautiful beast? You guessed it: £500.

The stats were heavily in favour of the Novation. The Korg had a small 44 key keyboard, a mere 4 voices and was monotimbral. The Novation had 61 keys, 24 voices and was 8 part multi-timbral. No contest.

Recently however, the Supernova has been ill. One of the master outputs decided to die and some of the LED’s no longer worked. Reluctantly, I took the Novation out of the studio and tried to carry on without it. This is the real test of whether you still actually NEED a piece of gear. Space is a real issue for me currently and every instrument has to justify the space it occupies.

The Supernova revitalised

I soon found I needed analogue type sounds and turned to the synths I had left. I have “classic” or “retro” soundboards in three of my ROMplers and whilst they provide some useful sounds, they just aren’t editable enough to be used as analogue modelling synths. The idea of getting my JP8080 or MS2000BR (yes I got one some years later) out of storage did not appeal as they are monotimbral and sonically just don’t cut the mustard. The Waldorf XTk is editable but just too noisy and mad for the subtle pads and glistening sounds of the Novation. VST is all well and good but somehow it just doesn’t appeal to me. Thus the Supernova went to the synth doctor at Sound Service, it was obviously needed.

At first, the diagnosis was of a terminal fault. Searching eBay led me to despair of owning a Supernova keyboard ever again, racks are 10 a penny but keyboards are not quite so abundant. With this in mind, the synth doctor went back and pulled the guts from the synth again.

It seems Novation do not make their circuit diagrams available to the public and diagnosing a fault on a board as complex as that in the Novation without one is very tricky. After many man hours, new chips and a lot of head scratching the synth began to live again. Now its back I am a little lighter in the wallet but relieved my bargain may provide loyal service for another 10 years.

So, if you are ever short of space or wondering if you need to replace a synth, remove it from your set up and try working without it for a few weeks. You’ll get your answer soon enough.

The plucky Casio

For some reason I always liked the idea of owning one of the Casio CZ series of synthesizers from the 1908’s. So, a few years ago, I decided to buy one. But which one?

Whilst the CZ-101 is a classic synth beloved of many, its small keys and user interface made it look a bit like the ‘toy’ Yamaha keyboards of my childhood. The CZ-230S is also toy like and to add insult to injury it isn’t even programmable. The CZ1 is the daddy of the CZ range and is both rare and relatively expensive. Thus I began looking for a CZ1000 3000 or 5000.

After a few weeks I discovered a CZ3000 complete with RAM cartridge, manuals, programming guide and original dust cover for about £100 on eBay. When it arrived, the mail had not been kind to it and the casing was a little smashed up and cracked, some of the buttons didn’t work and it generally looked worse for the treatment of Parcel Force. Luckily Sound Service managed to resurrect the Casio and it began to function again. Yet, I never really got time to play it and after a few weeks languishing on a stand the CZ3000 and all the rest of my equipment went into storage as I had to move house.

During the house move, one of the keys on the CZ3000 was smashed, I lost track of the RAM cartridge and generally lost interest in the synth. When I finally unpacked my studio some months later, the Casio was consigned to storage and not seen for years.

However, a few weeks ago I decided to try eBay again with a view to acquiring a new key for the plucky old Casio and get it up and running. Remarkably I sourced a new key from an eBay seller and took it to Sound Service once again for some TLC.

Now the CZ3000 is enjoying some time out of storage and is fully operational. All I need now is a slider cap for the Stereo Chorus knob to make it complete. 

Now you must excuse me, I have to go into the attic to retrieve the programming guide for this thing as I have no idea how phase distortion synthesis works and every sound I make is crap. Hope it was worth repairing....

Is a tune too much to ask for?

What in the name of god has happened to Björk? “Homogenic” is one of my top ten albums of all time and I am certain no one will ever surpass her live performance I witnessed in 1996 as part of the “Post” tour. Her versatility and originality were beyond compare. But, to me, her new album “Biophilia” represents a low point in her fall from musical grace.

There were three components to the work of Björk. Firstly she was the most amazing and unique vocalist, secondly she could write a great song and finally her music was well produced. Whilst her vocal ability remains, it seems Björk has come to the conclusion that she doesn’t need to write tunes and that a dirge will now suffice. To add insult to injury, she has decided that she will, in the main, produce these dirges herself. Predictably the result is something of a disaster.

There really is not one song to redeem this album. Recent albums such as “Volta” and “Medulla” had one or maybe two tracks that proved to be entertaining and thus the CD’s were not a complete waste of money. However, “Biophilia” is a stinker and even illegally downloading it for free will cost more in electricity than it is worth. A truly awful album.

In my imagination I give Björk a nudge and a wink and say: “Hey. Go back and make something a bit more like “Post”. I don’t expect another “Homogenic” but Jesus stop it with the arty, tuneless garbage and give us something with a beat now and again.”

Not The Most Incredible Thing

In 2009 the Vinyl Factory special edition of the Pet Shop Boy’s “Yes” album was finally delivered. There were on 300 of these hand crafted editions and they retailed at £300.

Originally scheduled to be delivered in April they finally arrived in June and I even had a good moan about the delay on this blog. Happily the product was well worth the wait and almost justified its price tag. I’m still very happy to own one.

With the release of Neil and Chris’s ballet score “The Most Incredible Thing” we were once again promised the opportunity to order a limited Vinyl Factory edition. However this time there was a £350 price tag and there were to be 500 available. Pet Heads with too much money placed their orders in March ready for a May delivery date. During a ridiculous delay of 3 months (more galling as the manufacturer had already taken our money) a few people cancelled their orders and obtained refunds. Unlike the ‘Yes’ box set which sold out within days, this edition is still available for order on the Vinyl Factory website. Not an overwhelming response.

So is the finished product worth the expense and the delay? Errrr no. Not at all.

Back in June 2009 it took me some time to make conclusions about the sister “Yes” box set, but this product is distinctly underwhelming. It might well be hand crafted and the vinyl may well be lovingly pressed, but it’s not the impressive package that I expected.

So, we open our cardboard box and find the box set encased in polystyrene and a plastic bag. The number of the box set is written in biro on the box and on a sticker attached to the polystyrene.

The discs are contained within an oversized hard back book which is in turn stored in a hard case. There are six records. The original released score is on the first three and the demo recordings are featured on the second three LP’s. Each 'sleeve' is a page in the book and printed on the front is a synopsis of the ballet's story.

A seventh record sleeve holds a sheet music print of a number of bars of the prologue and is signed by Neil and Chris. This print is also numbered. (You can tell I'm failing to get excited can't you?)

Okay, so I bought this as a collector and am not going to play it. But unlike my "Yes" box set, I won't be taking this bland white box down from the shelf to pore over its beauty and be proud to own it. I hope the seemingly poor commercial sucess of this box set means we might now see an end to these costly exclusive editions.

Essentially, "Essentials" isn't essential

My musical awakening occurred in 1986. I immediately gravitated towards the pop music of the day which was, thankfully, largely produced with electronic instruments. I soon discovered the music of other more recognised ‘electronic’ musicians such as Kraftwerk, Tangerine Dream and most importantly Jean-Michel Jarre. Jarre soon became my childhood hero. I began to devour anything Jarre; TV programmes, books, magazines and most obviously his LP’s. I would save up my pocket money and ride my bicycle to the record department of our local supermarket. Once inside, I spent hours looking at the slabs of polythene covered wonder and deciding which part of the back catalogue I would consume next. Magical times.

As far as I am concerned Jarre’s crown began to slip with the 1990 album “Waiting for Cousteau”. Two years had passed since the Dockland’s concerts and the wonder of the “Revolutions” album. I was expecting great things from his new material, not least because I purchased my first CD player in the intervening years and was looking forward to my first Jarre CD. Imagine my dismay to find Jarre only recorded half of an album and simply plonked a 40 min dirge on the end. Very disappointing (a quick look through the mp3’s on my hard drive confirms my disappointment is somewhat prolonged as the only album missing from the 67 different Jarre albums and singles represented is Cousteau).

The slide down the musical dung heap continued through the years with momentary revivals in fortune with the odd track here and there (Chronologie 4 and 6 and some bits of “Oxygene 7-13”). Yet the decline was palpable, and as it turns out, inexorable.

This brings us to the latest “Essentials and Rarities” release. My first problem with this CD is the title. Not only do I already own about 5 other Jarre compilations called “Essential” but the selection of tracks is rather eclectic to say the least. Reading the accompanying booklet confirms Jarre picked the tracks as a tribute to his friend and old record company boss Francis Dreyfus rather than defining a ‘Best of’. So why call it “Essentials” then?

The first CD consists of music any Jarre fan knows with some odd bits on Equinoxe 4 (dare I suggest the master tape is past its best?) and the original version of Zoolook rather than the remix which replaced it on all but the first pressings of the eponymously titled album. Jarre seems to have forgotten he made “Chronologie” and picked one of the worst tracks from his “Metamorphoses” album. I ordered this package as it promised a bonus disc of Jarre’s pre-Oxygene work (all of which is available on Bootleg CD’s) and some new nifty artwork (I am a sucker for those CD’s pressed up to look like LP’s, love ‘em). I have heard all the tracks beforehand, it’s true to say the mastering is much better on this ‘official’ CD but some of the tracks are so old and have so much tape hiss you have to wonder why they bothered. So essentially “Essentails” is not essential but it might do enough to remind me of Jarre’s lost genius (and possibly make me rip my Cousteau CD just to heal a wound).