What? I have restraint? Since when?

10 discs of goodness

I was recently in Toronto and of course I squeezed in a bit of time browsing used books and music.

What did I see on the shelf before me but that glorious black box of music: Bird: The Complete Charlie Parker on Verve. I remember this box set from early in my jazz life. I’d borrow it from the local library and listen to it over and over, marveling at Charlie’s skill, and broken-hearted about how young he died. I always wanted to own the set but it tended to be about a $100 used, which was too rich for me back then.

Now I’m supposedly an adult with a good job and am not entirely drowning in debt and there I stood before Bird. There is was, still valued at $100 after all these years. This is some of the best recording he ever made and an important part of jazz history. Surely he’s one of the top two or three sax players of all time and I challenge anyone to argue otherwise.

I wish I had seen him play

The strange thing was that I didn’t buy it. What? I know, I can't believe it either. It’s not like me to show restraint when it comes to books or jazz, but it happened.

The reason? Streaming.

The whole set is available on iTunes and I listen to it all the time. I used to cherish CDs and now…not so much. I know this trend is happening everywhere and is even having an impact on the glorious company Mosaic Records. I have a large stack of their sets but haven’t jumped at one since Mingus’ set: Charles Mingus ‎– The Jazz Workshop Concerts 1964–65.

I suppose the moral of this story is that it’s all about the music, not about how it’s delivered to my ears, brain and heart. Whatever sci-fi technology that comes along to replace streaming, you can rest assured that there will be jazz fans like me listening to fantastic old recordings in new ways.

For now, here's a link to one of Bird's great tunes, Blues For Alice.