Roll On Record

For this installment of Zayde’s Turntable I let my 2-1/2 year old daughter select the record and I’m very happy with the result! She certainly loved dancing to it – over and over again. A good reminder that, if you have 78 r.p.m. discs, it’s best to limit how often you play them on a traditional steel-needle phonograph (or, even better, not use one at all) and opt for a more modern player – that can spin at 78 r.p.m. – with a synthetic stylus. Also, she selected a record that, unbeknownst to me when she picked it, has a unique instrumentation: it’s a hopping jazz piano record from 1949/1950, but it’s not any old piano…

The record is on the short-lived Abbey label, not to be confused with Abbey Road. Searching for Abbey records background was a bit difficult. There is no entry for them in the Online Discographical Project.  Created by record producer Peter Doraine in New York City in 1949, Abbey represented Doraine’s attempt to become a big shot in the burgeoning post-war record industry. The label’s initial releases, in the R&B genre, had mediocre sales – including the Ben Smith Quartet performing the colorfully titled “I Ain’t Fattening Frogs For Snakes,” the Cabineers singing “Whirlpool,” which had some success, and some tunes performed by Bobby Marshall. The real shot in the arm, however, came later that year with Abbey 15003 – a disc featuring Lawrence Cook and The Jim Dandies (Cook also composed and performs on this week’s featured record below), with “The Old Piano Roll Blues” and “Why Do They Always Say No.” The record sold a then-remarkable 200,000 albums. What was especially remarkable about Abbey 15003, however, is that it was not a recording of a live pianist: it was a pianola playing a QRS piano roll. J.C. Marion, in Jamm Upp, writes:

 “…at this moment in history, memories and reminiscences of an earlier, simpler time were the biggest sellers… So, whether it was by design or merely by chance, ‘The Old Piano Roll Blues’ was a huge success. Quite a departure for the new R&B label in town! The tune by Lawrence (now nicknamed ‘Piano Roll’) Cook, was everywhere. But – Doraine continued on his R&B quest.”

“Nickel-Nabbers Sure!”

The label continued to sign and release recordings in the R&B genre, but had no more real hit records. Some of the other artists who released Abbey records in 1949-1951 included – and I include some of the more entertaining song titles here, as well – The Masterkeys, Art Long (“Blues Got Me Walkin, Talkin’ To Myself”), the Ray Parker Combo (performing with Bobby Marshall, on one album, the Inkspots’ song “Are You Lonesome Tonight,” later made famous by Elvis), the Eddie Wilcox Orchestra (“I Shouldn’t Love You, But I Do”), Ralph Willis, Billy Matthews, Elmer Crumbley, Johnny Felton (“You’re Spending My Money Too Fast”), Jewyl Lang, The Radars with the Conrad Fredrick Orchestra, Nellie Hill (“I’m Gonna Copyright Your Kisses”), Sister Dorothy Rivers and Her Gospel Singers, the Billy Ford Orchestra, Joe Candullo’s Orchestra (“I Cooed, I Wooed, I Wed in Tennessee”), Joan Shaw, Elaine Brent, and the King Odom Four (“Don’t Trade Your Love For Gold”). Despite having signed a few partners since 1949, Doraine is still the hear behind Abbey records and when he is signed as head of A&R for Allen Records in 1952 Abbey records fades away.

By the way, Doraine seemed to have something of a sense of humor. A 1950 news account related the following exchange over the phone between Doraine and a songwriter pitching a new tune: “He called up Peter Doraine…in New York and played it over the phone. ‘What’s its name?’ asked Doraine, adding that he liked it. ‘I’ll Write You a Letter,’ said Balee. ‘Why can’t you tell me now?’ said Doraine.”

This album, Abbey 15056, is in good condition, though it does skip twice at the beginning of the A-side recording. There is very little wear to the shellac or to the paper label. It is an electrically recorded 10-inch diameter 78 r.p.m. black vinyl disc with lateral grooves and a ¼” spindle hole. The A-side recording features Lawrence “Piano Roll” Cook and His Orchestra performing Cook’s own composition “The Mason-Dixon Boogie.” The matrix number is G-989 and it runs 2 minutes. The B-side is the same musicians performing “San Antonio Rose” written and originally performed by Bob Wills and His Texas Playboys in 1938. The matrix number is G-990 and it runs 2 minutes and 36 seconds. I could find no date for the recording of the album, though Billboard magazine of November 17, 1951 includes an ad for a store called Speedy Record Sales in Yonkers, in which the album is listed in their top picks (alongside Tony Bennett, Perry Como, Bing Crosby, and Hank Williams records) and available for 60-cents. It was probably recorded in very late 1949 or at some point in 1950. Abbey 15056 does not appear in Les Dock’s guide to record values, but I found one dealer online selling a copy in V+ condition for $4. Abbey later re-released “Mason-Dixon Boogie” on 45 r.p.m. as Abbey 3029; I found one dealer selling that record for $20 and another selling it for $5.

Jean Lawrence Cook (1899-1976), aka “Piano Roll” Cook, has been mentioned on this blog before, coincidentally quite recently, for his 1955 piano roll version of John Moore and Ewart Abner’s “At My Front Door,” which he recorded under the pseudonym “Pep Doyle.” Cook was wildly prolific and by some accounts made more piano rolls than any other pianist in history – as many as 20,000 different roll recordings (over his 56 year career, that works out to about one roll recorded per day, every day of the year). Remarkably, despite being one of the most high-volume musical artists of the 20th century he is barely known today –a search on Amazon finds just 11 products with Cook’s performances on them (some CD and some records) and he has no channel – not even a presence – on digital music stations Spotify or Pandora. Cook, from Athens, Tennessee, became an orphan at the age of three and was raised by relatives who introduced him to music, and the piano more specifically, at a very young age. In March of 1920 Cook headed to the Big Apple to try his luck in the Tin Pan Alley scene. He landed at U.S. Music Roll Company, where he made some piano rolls, before being hired away three years later by the behemoth in the piano roll industry, QRS Music Roll Company. Cook remained with QRS for five decades. While most of his rolls and recordings were released under his own name, some were not – as we’ve already covered here on Zayde’s Turntable. Interestingly, however, some of Cook’s rolls were marketed as being recorded by an actual other living artist – Fats Waller – perhaps in an attempt to increase sales. The site linked above (click on Cook’s name in the first sentence of this paragraph) has an extensive biography, document images, and more, about “Piano Roll” Cook.

Jahn’s storefront, shortly before it closed in 2007.

Cook made many of his recordings and rolls (including possibly this one), not in a studio, but on the nickelodeon piano at Jahn’s Ice Cream Parlor in Queens. Jahn’s (as in, “John’s” with an accent) was one of the neighborhood’s most popular dining establishments, serving dinner and ice cream. The business displayed many of the historic artifacts associated with the site’s long and proud history, including the working piano that Cook made his recordings on, until it went out of business in November 2007.

The site where Jahn’s once was is now a corner market.

Dink Embry

Cook’s tune “Mason-Dixon Boogie” has received very little play outside of this record, which is unfortunate because it’s a nice, jumping jazzy tune. Dink Embry (1920-1999) and the Kentucky Lads and Reece Shipley (1921-1998) made recordings of a song with the same name, but for which label and when I cannot find. I also could not confirm if their recordings were of Cook’s tune; I am skeptical that it was, as both Dink Embry and Reece Shipley were more rockabilly/country musicians than traditional “boogie” artists, but I may be mistaken. This is another instance where I believe this version (click the song title in the first sentence of this paragraph) is the only recording of it available online today – if you find any others, please let me know in the comments section.

Bob Wills, demonstrating one of the benefits of choosing a string instrument over a wind instrument.

“San Antonio Rose” was the signature tune for Bob Wills (1905-1975) and His Texas Playboys. Written originally as an instrumental song for the group in 1938, band members later added lyrics and it was renamed “New San Antonio Rose.” The melody is identical and hence the two titles are often used interchangedly for both songs, the instrumental and the vocal version. The song, which Wills derived from Mexican traditional “Spanish Two-Step” (the song’s melody is the Two-Step’s bridge in reverse), launched Wills and the Texas Playboys to national fame, selling over a million copies and becoming a standard hit for jukeboxes across the country. It’s been covered by countless professional musicians and groups from Patsy Cline to Willie Nelson to Carrie Underwood, and adapted into a variety of genres, including by Wills and the Playboys themselves, when they added drums and horns for a 1944 Grand Ole Opry appearance that “ruffled the feathers” of country music purists:

 “[Old-time country musician Uncle Dave Macon] ‘abut flipped his dipper,’ [drummer Monte] Mountjoy explained. ‘We were breaking tradition and all that. He went by a couple of time mumblin’ about ‘God-damn young upstarts’ and ‘What they doin’ with those drums here?’…Wills had remorselessly flouted Opry tradition…by the act of bringing a drummer.”

Q.R.S. piano roll of the “New San Antonio Rose” – the same tune as “San Antonio Rose” – performed by Lawrence Cook and written by Bob Wills. As a “word roll” the lyrics appear along side the piano roll’s perforations, hence the title “New San Antonio Rose.” Despite the inclusion of the written lyrics on the paper, however, I believe this roll is the exact same performance captured on Abbey 15056.

It may seem incongruous to have a “country” style tune opposite a boogie – maybe Doraine thought it could be sold as a “southern-themed” record. Whatever the reason it’s a fun album and I love sharing the up-beat music with my energetic daughter. The fact that the piano parts are most likely off another obsolete musical medium – the piano roll – makes it that much more of a delight.

A Perfect record to get things started

For the first album we’ll look at on Zayde’s Turntable I’ve chosen a Perfect record.

That is neither its condition nor a description of its musical content. Perfect records first came on the scene in 1922 and was the American brand of the prolific European record company Pathé, which had been creating first cylinder recordings and later standard 78-RPM discs since the 1890s. Perfect records were lower quality dime-store albums, but the label proved so popular (read: affordable) with the American public that they continued as their own brand even after Pathé itself folded in 1929 during a large merger of many record companies into the mammoth American Record Corporation. Perfect records, headquartered at 34 Grand Avenue in Brooklyn, continued to be manufactured until 1938.

34 Grand Avenue in Brooklyn - once home to the Perfect record company. Now Raels Gable (sic).

A “Perfect” label of 45-RPMs was issued in the 1950s, but I can find no evidence that it was at all related to the original 1922-1938 company. In 1993 Dean Blackwood revived the label briefly to issue recordings by a handful of 1980s experimental rock and rockabilly artists.

Perfect labels from 1922 through the late 1950s.

Perfect record 15228, featuring the La Palina Broadcasters and Ted Bancroft - neither of whom existed.

This particular album is in Very Good to Excellent condition, which is not common for a Perfect record given, ironically, the generally lower quality manufacturing that went into the brand. It is a standard 10-inch diameter 78-RPM vinyl disc. The record catalog number is Perfect 15228 (15228-B) and the master number is 37047A (37047B). The A-side recording features the waltz “Pal Of My Sweetheart Days” by Benny Davis and Fred Coots and runs approximately 2 minutes and 45 seconds. The B-side recording features the waltz “All That I’m Asking Is Sympathy” by Benny Davis and Joe Burke and runs approximately 2 minutes and 50 seconds. Both songs are sung by “Ted Bancroft” (more on the use of the quotations below) backed up by the “La Palina Broadcasters.” Tyrone Settlemier dates the album to August 20, 1929, which seems to match with the appearance of the encircled “E” on the label – a feature that appeared on Perfect labels only in the late 1920s. The record is valued at approximately $7 to $10.

Side-by-side with another 78-RPM of the period the color difference of the Perfect is more apparent.

It is one of eight Perfect records in my collection, but is probably the one in the best condition. One reason I decided to start with a Perfect label is the company’s interesting decision to forgo the traditional black shellac for a reddish/orange shellac – not all 78s look the same and as record companies competed for ways to make their product stick out a bit more they became increasingly more creative in how they made their albums look and not just sound. Only one other label at the time – Vocalion – did the same. Another Pathé label, Pathé-Actuelle, pressed mottled vinyl albums for a time. The epitome of this practice were the picture discs, best represented by the highly collectable Vogue picture records – in which complete color illustrations were printed on paper, covered with a thin vinyl sheet, and then the recording grooves were pressed onto the disc. The albums were pretty, even if the sound quality was a bit less than ideal.

Another bonus aspect of this album is that it is in my collection in its original sleeve. While most collectors don’t care about the album sleeve (except for some records, mostly 45s, where the sleeve artwork is actually more collectible than the record itself), there’s something nice about having the disc in its original home. Album sleeves were prime real estate for the record company to advertise and promote the other recordings (hey, if you bought this one…).

B-side of sleeve lists Perfect artists (so to speak).

On one side the headline of the sleeve copy here reads “A Selected List of Perfect Standard RECORDS THAT SHOULD BE IN EVERY HOME.” It then lists 28 albums in six categories – Hawaiian (“Ciribiribin…With Whistling,” “Kawaha,” and “O Sole Mio” -?), Instrumental, Vocal, Humorous and Novelty (“Casey At The Dentist” – a less successful sequel to Casey at the Bat perhaps?), Sacred, and Operatic and Classical. The song “La Paloma” must have been a real hit as it appears twice – once under Hawaiian (featuring “Louise and Ferera” on Hawaiian Guitars) and once under Instrumental (featuring the Casino Orchestra). The sleeve implores the reader to “ASK FOR COMPLETE STANDARD CATALOG OF PERFECT RECORDS.”

A-side of sleeve with promotional image and copy.

The front of the sleeve touts “AMERICA’S FASTEST SELLING RECORD…Better Records Can’t Be Made”. The former claim may have been true, but the latter almost certainly not. In addition to a black and white illustration of various types of musicians performing on top of a record the sleeve front additionally partially lists 35 popular and famous artists and orchestras that appeared on the Perfect label (the Original Memphis Five, Ukulele Ike, Hotel Biltmore Orchestra, Harry Barth’s Mississippians, Phil Hughes and his High Hatters, Irving Kaufman, Arthur Fields, Yvonne Gall, etc.).

A better look at the sleeve graphic, untorn.

The music on the album is less than thrilling.

The A-side recording, “Pal Of My Sweetheart Days,” is a standard waltz like so many that came out of Tin Pan Alley in the 1920s, with a cookie-cutter sensibility to the tune, accompanied by trite rhymes and clichéd lyrics.

“Mem’ries awaken the old love again, pal of my sweetheart days / Tho’ we’re far apart, you seem to linger in my heart.”

You get the idea.

1929 sheet music for

In addition to appearing on Perfect a version of the song appeared on the Broadway label, featuring “Frank Raymond’s Do”, some time between 1929 and 1932. The song was published in 1929 by Coots & Engel Inc. of New York City. In addition to a piano, vocal, and ukulele sheet music and the albums the song appeared on a Sears “Supertone” piano roll (#4430) issued by Columbia featuring an unknown pianist (though I have a very strong suspicion that the artist was…well, I’ll give away part of the end of this post if I tell you now).

1929 sheet music to

The B side recording is likewise a standard waltz from the period. “All That I’m Asking Is Sympathy” was also recorded by Art Jarrett and his Orchestra for Victor (record catalog number 22236) on December 2, 1929. It received a revival (and serious tempo adjustment) in 1953 on the album “Slim Whitman Sings” – the third record from the prolific country music singer and acclaimed yodeler Ottis Dewey “Slim” Whitman (issued on an Imperial 78-RPM #8180 and currently selling on EBay for about $15). The song was published by the Joe Morris Music Company of New York in 1929. “You are all I had / Now I am so sad / All that I’m asking is sympathy.”

Lyricist Benny Davis (1895-1979).

The works of three composers appear on the record. Benny Davis (1895-1979) had a hand in both songs. Davis, a former vaudeville performer and accompanist, was one of the busiest, and most successful, lyricists of the period. In addition to the two songs here Davis was responsible for the lyrics to the hit song “Baby Face” and several dozen others. He wrote lyrics to the Broadway shows “Artists and Models of 1927” and “Sons o’ Guns” (1936), as well as three versions of the Cotton Club revue. His song most recognizable to contemporary listeners is probably “With These Hands,” which appeared on the soundtrack to the 1990 film “Edward Scissorhands” sung by Tom Jones.

Davis’ colleague on “Pal Of My Sweetheart Days” (and many other songs) was J. Fred Coots (1897-1985), another high-volume Tin Pan Alley songwriter. A banker-turned-songwriter, Coots’ produced over 700 published songs and the scores to nine Broadway shows including “A Night in Paris“ (1926). His song “Louisiana Fairy Tale,” was used as the original theme song to the PBS show “This Old House” many decades later. In 1940 Coots – a fierce Rangers fan – wrote the “New York Rangers Victory Song,” which is still played after each of the hockey team’s home wins. Timely with the recent holiday, Coots most famous contribution to the American songbook, however, is doubtless the Christmas classic “Santa Claus Is Coming To Town” (1934) – the tune for which he supposedly cooked up in ten minutes and which has sold over 4 millions copies of sheet music (500,000 of which were in the first year alone).

Composer Fred Coots (1897-1985).

Jack Burton’s 1950 “Honor Roll of Popular Songwriters” in Billboard magazine ranked Coots at number #52. Burton’s profile of Coots relates how the young banker gave up a lucrative career (fortuitous with the eventual market collapse of the late 1920s) to follow a passion for music. He sold his first song, the less-than-marketably-titled “Mister Ford, You’ve Got The Right Idea” (1917) for $5 – then promptly spent the entirety of the earnings on a celebratory dinner that same night. Years later, when the same publisher who bought that 1917 tune was himself on hard times the then-wealthy Coots presented him with a check for $500: “I owed the guy,” he explained.

Coots also composed music for several popular “night spots” during Prohibition, including the Alamo in Harlem, where the songwriter discovered a large-nosed pianist with a ripping sense of humor. Coots persuaded the young Jimmy Durante to give up his 75-cents-an-hour piano gig to get onto the comedy circuit professionally.

Waite Hoyt: championship Yankees pitcher, funeral director, and vaudeville performer.

Coots himself also appeared on stage on occasion, mostly in vaudeville acts in New York City. Following the New York Yankees 1927 World Series victory Coots teamed up with Yankees pitcher Waite Hoyt – fresh off pitching two winning Series games – to perform to sold out crowds at the Palace Theater. Hoyt, a consummate performer himself, went by the nickname “The Merry Mortician” – an allusion to his two non-baseball jobs: running a funeral home and starring in vaudeville numbers (including acts with Durante, Jack Benny, and George Burns). One might imagine Derek Jeter doing soft-shoe with Zach Galifianakis…or one might not.

Davis’ collaborator for “All That I’m Asking Is Sympathy” was Joe Burke (1884-1950), a songwriter better known for his film scores and songs than his popular singles. Burke started his career as an actor, appearing as Senator Keene in the 1915 black and white silent film “The Senator” and in the 1929 flick “The Show of Shows”. His catalog of Billboard Number One hit songs includes “Moon Over Miami” (1936), “Carolina Moon” (1929 – the same year as “All That I’m Asking Is Sympathy”), “On Treasure Island” (1935, for Tommy Dorsey), “Dancing With Tears In My Eyes” (1930), and “Who Wouldn’t Love You” (1942). He also penned the official college anthem for Villanova University (even though Burke himself was educated at UPenn). Burke’s most (in)famous song is perhaps “Tip Toe Through The Tulips” (originally for Nick Lucas for the 1929 show “The Gold Diggers of Broadway” and later more notoriously covered by Tiny Tim).

Tiny Tim, in his final video interview shortly before his death in 1996.

A second attraction for using this record to get Zayde’s Turntable spinning – in addition to its unconventional color – is its usefulness in illustrating the wide use of pseudonyms in the period. Collector and author of the “American Premium Record Guide” Les Docks notes: “the real name of the artist was not always used on all the affiliate labels…the purpose was often to evade exclusive recording artist contractual restrictions, or to avoid making royalty payments to artists…If this isn’t confusing enough, one pseudonym…might conceal the true identity of a dozen or more bands, whose performances appeared on other labels perhaps under different pseudonyms.”

Particularly fascinating on this record is that both the orchestra and the vocalist appear as a pseudonym. After a fair amount of digging I was able to ascertain the true identity of both the enigmatic “La Palina Broadcasters” and “Ted Bancroft.”

Bandleader Fred Rich (1898-1956).

Docks’ compendium lists several albums of value from the La Palina Broadcasters on Conqueror, Domino, Pathe-Actuelle, and Perfect – all valued $7 to $10. There is absolutely no record elsewhere of such an orchestra actually existing, however. La Palina was (and is) a brand of cigar, which – at one point – sponsored radio programs on CBS radio. In late 1928, a 30-year old man by the name of Fred Rich (1898-1956) was hired to be the music director for CBS radio. Rich, who came from an already lengthy career as a bandleader with numerous recordings to his credit, would be a natural to lead a radio orchestra (hence “Broadcasters” in the title) for Perfect (and other labels, all of which had some sort of business relationship with Columbia and CBS).

A search for more on Rich and La Palina confirm the pseudonym – Robert Stockdale’s “The Dorsey Brothers” lists four recordings on, literally, dozens of labels using up to six pseudonyms (“Ted White’s Collegians,” “Pierrot Syncopators,” “Pete Mandel and his Rhythm Masters,” “Vincent Lopez and his Orchestra,” etc.). Brian Rust’s “Jazz Records, 1897-1942” adds the front name “Jimmy Pollack’s Orchestra” on the rare Domino label to the mix. Docks identifies Fred/Freddie Rich and his Orchestra as being synonymous with the “La Palina Orchestra” – not Broadcasters – and lists over fifty of his albums on Banner, Cameo, Columbia (naturally), Gennett, Harmony, Hit-of-the-Week, Okeh, Pathe-Actuelle, Perfect, Regal, Romeo, and Vocalion – with an overall range of value between $5 and $30.

Rich’s recordings are mostly fairly standard and unimpressive dance fare (such as appear on this particular album), though he did press a few remarkable and acclaimed jazz albums. A writer in the International Association of Jazz Record Collectors 1971 volume observers about an unspecified La Palina Broadcaster’s recording: “Ted Bancroft does the vocal. There is the lead trumpet work, a lengthy Tommy Dorsey trombone solo, with brother Jimmy taking a clarinet solo. On the B-side the vocalist is Irving Kaufman [see list of featured Perfect artists above]. The quite commendable trumpet solos are by Leo McConville. The trombone solo is played straight but has T.D.’s [Tommy Dorsey’s] tone. A most interesting piano solo. Who? The B-side original issue cannot be traced. Banner?? It is a real sleeper.”

Rich’s finger-work as a pianist lives on immortalized in the dozens of piano rolls he also recorded for the Aeolian Company and others (perhaps even the uncredited roll for “Pal Of My Sweetheart Days”?). Rich left his job at CBS in 1938 but still made musical appearances on a number of programs (including The Abbott and Costello Show on NBC from 1943 to 1945). Leaving radio behind his final artistic endeavors were for the big screen, providing the scores to the films “Stage Door Canteen” (1943), “Jack London” (1943), “A Walk In The Sun” (1945), and “A WAVE, a WAC, and a Marine” (1944), for which he received an Academy Award nomination for best score.

There is no Ted Bancroft. A cursory search finds references to a Benny Goodman drummer, Ben Pollack (hmmm….”Jimmy Pollack’s Orchestra”?), singing under the pseudonyms “Ted Bancroft” and “Eddie Gale” (not, of course, Eddie Gale the jazz trumpeter…confused yet?). Pollack was a bandleader and singer by the late 1920s and his band had recently relocated from Chicago to New York City. They pressed albums for a vast array of labels: Banner, Perfect, Domino, Cameo, Lincoln, Romeo, and Victor, under an equally vast array of pseudonyms: Mills’ Merry Makers, Goody’s Good Timers, Kentucky Grasshoppers, Mills’ Musical Clowns, The Lumberjacks, Dixie Daises, The Whoopee Makers, The Hotsy Totsy Gang, and Jimmy Bracken’s Toe Ticklers. But Pollack’s music was almost all straight jazz and “hot dance.” Furthermore, as I am certain that the La Palina Broadcasters are the Fred Rich orchestra, it seem very unlikely that Ben Pollack would appear as a solo vocalist on an album backed up by someone else’s band.

Ted Bancroft is another Columbia/CBS artist. A musician who provided vocal accompaniment to Fred Rich’s Columbia house orchestra on numerous Columbia labels, including the original “Singin’ in the Rain.” He was one of the original “singing cowboys” and appeared in western films for Paramount and 20th Century Fox up through the 1950s, including dubbing the singing for John Wayne in “Riders of Destiny” and “The Man from Utah” and starred opposite Frances Langford as the lead in “Palm Springs.” He recorded hundreds of records with dozens of bands (including Ben Pollack’s). His own short-lived orchestra, on the Okeh label, gave a start to Glenn Miller. His name was Sykes “Smith” Ballew (1902-1984).

Sykes “Smith” Ballew (1902-1984), aka Ted Bancroft, pictured in 1931 two years after recording this album and at the height of his one-time fame.

And not one of his albums is commercially available today. You can only hear them on Zayde’s Turntable.

And that, in some ways, seems Perfect.