As 1970 unfurled its musical tapestry, icons like Zeppelin, The Stones, and Dylan were laying down tracks that would reverberate through the ages. Yet, amidst the electrifying riffs and beats, there was another star rising on a different stage: Leonard Bernstein. His arena? The tranquil expanses of Tanglewood.
The Dead’s free concert that day was more than just an enthralling musical experience; it was a statement, a beacon of unity in tumultuous times. The band delved straight into a compelling rendition of “Viola Lee Blues,” a piece that spanned over twenty-one minutes, taking the audience on a transcendental journey.
Streaming may rule, but this $2K system—featuring Cambridge’s AXR100 amp and AXC35 CD player, Pro-Ject’s T1 turntable, and Wharfedale Diamond 12.2 speakers—proves that physical media still delivers musical magic with detail, warmth, and soul.
Welcome to my series Treasures from the Vinyl Vault. In it, I will feature select gems from my approximately 12,000 ever-growing vinyl collection, accumulated over a 45-year period and counting.
Forget the clichéd rock star tropes. That snake wasn’t just a prop; it was a statement. It was danger, seduction, and a dash of subversion wrapped in scales—kind of like Harry herself.
In 1969, in the concrete bowels of San Quentin State Prison, Johnny Cash raised his middle finger to the lens of photographer Jim Marshall. The image is rebellious, iconic, and transcendent, much like the Man in Black himself. But it’s not just a picture; it’s a complex narrative of America, of its music, its social…
In the kaleidoscopic universe of Las Vegas, where neon lights pierce the desert night and every high note echoes the clink of a jackpot, legends Sammy Davis Jr. and Elvis Presley found a friendship as enduring as their tunes. It all came into focus on July 31, 1969—Elvis’s comeback night at the International Hotel. There,…