Jim Kweskin and the Jug Band – Best Of (1968)

Jug bands! Right? Okay, so they’re not for everyone. Especially these days – there probably aren’t too many jug bands showing up on America’s Got Talent, or climbing the iTunes charts. When was the last time you went to get a beer and slid that quarter into the juke box, turned around, and exclaimed “God I love this bathtub bass line!”

But, in the mid to late sixties, jug bands were actually…a thing. Like, there was a jug band scene. It mostly evolved from traditional Appalachian folk music, and there was a little jug band revival that people got really into, the way we all got into swing music in the late nineties.

Remember that? The Cherry Poppin’ Daddies (gross), Big Bad Voodoo Daddy, and the Squirrel Nut Zippers? What was that all about? That movie Swingers? Big hats? Skanking?

So the whole swing thing came and went pretty quickly, but in the sixties, there was a folk revivalist movement that was a pretty big deal. Jim Kweskin is often looped in with that movement, but he wasn't doing jug band music just to take advantage of the craze. He's more like Brian Setzer - who was roped into the whole swing revival but really had making music like that his whole career. 

Kweskin had been around doing jug band music longer than some of the bigger, more popular Appalachian folk bands (like the Lovin’ Spoonful, for example). Born in Stamford, CT, he jumped around Boston playing folk clubs and coffee houses. He quickly became a fixture on the jug band/folk scene, and a by 1963 he had put together an all-star band of folk artists. Thus was born the Kweskin Jug Band. 

I know there’s nothing too sexy about jug band music, but if I can sell you at all on this record; it’s really fun. Kweskin definitely knew how to keep it light. He wasn’t interested in revivalism and this isn't Appalachian folk paint-by-numbers. Instead, he uses the genre as a touchstone and rolls out the fun from there.

[ mp3 ]: Jim Kweskin & the Jug Band – Jug Band Music

Also worth nothing is that a lot of this kind of folk music was seen as a part of the anti-war movement. But Kweskin didn’t insert Vietnam into his music. He was a-political, and the music was just about having a good time. A little escapist, yes, but sometimes that’s exactly what music should be. There’s not many songs that as carefree as the Boodle Am Shake:

[ mp3 ]: Jim Kweskin & the Jug Band – Boodle Am Shake

Also, I kind of love this answer to Bo Diddley’s “I’m a Man.”

[ mp3 ]: Jim Kweskin & the Jug Band – I’m a Woman

All in all, it's hard to listen to this record without trying to place it within the mid-sixties folk revivalist movement. But if you can pretend you're in someone's backyard in West Virginia (but not in a sad Winter's Bone kind of way), then this record is a party in a cardboard sleeve. Enjoy!


3.5 / 5 DADS

4 / 5 SONS


Iron Butterfly - In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida (1968)

So....my dad's record collection is pretty cool. It's not just cool because he has so many records, or that he's managed to keep them in such good shape. It's cool because it's well procured - it's not just mid-period Genesis and a Neil Diamond singles collection (although those are in there and I love them both). From classic albums to Dr Demento rarities, if it's worth having, my dad's got it. 

And while I may not have followed my dad's example in every facet of my life, I certainly have followed his example when it comes to my music collection. I have loads of albums from music scenes that I was totally not into. I've got Tracy Chapman CDs and Bad Brains LPs...but I never came close to sniffing either of those music scenes in real life. 

My dad has this Iron Butterfly album. But he wasn't hippie. He never 'ate the brown acid,' he's never smelt patchouli, heck, I don't think he's ever been to Southern California. He just liked the music. From a distance. Like how I like the first Mighty Mighty Bosstone's album. I will listen the crap out of that thing...but I'm never going to "ska dance." Just not gonna happen.

For newcomers to Iron Butterfly - you've heard them. Their hit is probably the biggest psychedelic hit of the sixties - the sprawling, seventeen minute epic "In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida." This track can only be found in its entirety on this album - so please enjoy:

[ mp3 ]Iron Butterfly - In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida

It's unfortunate that the ubiquity of In-A-Gadda-Da-Vida has made Iron Butterfly a one-hit-wonder, because they do have other good tunes. My favorite on this album is the lead-off track, "Most Anything That You Want."

[ mp3 ]: Iron Butterfly - Most Anything That You Want

This song is the perfect combination of heavy psychedelia with a bluesy, punch-in-your-face guitar riff. I'm also on board with any song that can talk about spending your life with someone and making them happy without sounding like a cut-rate Death Cube for Catty song. 

This is definitely a pivotal rock and roll album. However, the years have turned it into a relic. While songs like "Most Anything That You Want" make it more than just a museum piece, it's hard not to feel like you're listening to something from a display at the Rock'N'Roll Hall of Fame. It's aged like a bottle of scotch as opposed to a bottle of wine - it's good, but it's gonna taste the same for a while. 

- N.W.

3 / 5 Dads

3 / 5 Sons


Chris Smither - Don't It Drag On (1972)


It's been a while since my last post, and my sincerest apologies for that. My dad likes to joke that writing about Captain Beefheart took it all out of me. And he's probably right. But, in fact, I'm in the midst of some busy professional things as well as looking forward to my wedding in a month (!) so I've been a bit negligent. But honestly who cares about all that stuff. Let's get back to what matters - some sweet old records.

Until my dad pulled this one out for me, I had not even heard of Chris Smither. And the cover of this thing made me a bit nervous. Naked guy with egregious nipples? And oh! That patterned wallpaper. This was like a nightmare ripped from the pages of a Charlotte Perkins Gilman short story!

But when I started listening, Smither surprised me. The music is rootsy and soulful, clearly exhibiting an appreciation for all kinds of American music, from bluegrass to rockabilly to blues to folk. Smither spent part of his childhood in New Orleans, and he really puts the feel of that city into his cover of Dylan's, Down In the Flood. Maybe it's all the Treme I'm watching, but this is one of my favorite tracks on the record.

[ mp3 ]: Chris Smither - Down in the Flood

The album includes a few other covers; a great version of the Grateful Dead's Friend of the Devil as well as a less-warbly-than-Mick version of the Stone's No Expectations. He's clearly a very accomplished guitarist and thoughtfully reserved vocalist. But he's also a formidable song writer too. The album's closer I Feel the Same highlights all three of these traits, and was actually later recorded by Bonnie Raitt, who provided background vocals on this album. And as I always say, "If your song's good enough to be covered by Bonnie Raitt, you're either a really good song writer or you're James Taylor."

[ mp3 ]: Chris Smither - No Expectations
[ mp3 ]: Chris Smither - I Feel the Same

So if you haven't heard of Chris Smither, this is a great place to jump in. Don't worry! Late summer is the perfect time to GET SMITHERED!

- N.W.

3.5 / 5 Dads

4 / 5 Sons

Check out more Chris Smither on Spotify.

Captain Beefheart - Trout Mask Replica (1969)

"I was able to turn myself inside out." - Don Van Vliet

I digitized this album over a year ago, and it’s been haunting me ever since. I’ve never felt so under-equipped to write about music before. Trout Mask Replica is quite possibly the most confounding record my dad owns. (Meaning the record itself is confounding, not the fact that my dad owns it – I’m more confounded that he owns so much Paul Anka.) I thought perhaps if I was patient, let it settle in, something would come to me. But after listening to the record several times, it’s still an enigma, wrapped in a conundrum, floating in a pool of cacophony that kind of resembles the blues.

If you’ve never heard of Captain Beefheart before, here’s a little primer. He’s eccentric.

I mean, really, really, really eccentric. So eccentric, I wouldn’t be surprised if the etymology of the word eccentric was traced back to when someone first tried to describe this guy. His real name is Don Van Vliet. (At least, that was his moniker as an artist) He was a weirdo, a west-coast space cadet gifted with insane talents as a visual artist, writer, and vocalist. His vocal range spanned four octaves. He started sculpting when he was three. He claimed to have remembered being born. If Dos Equis did their “most interesting man in the world” commercials in the sixties, Van Vliet would have been a candidate for the role. 

He met Frank Zappa when he was a teenager, and their friendship directly lead to Van Vliet being able to make Trout Mask Replica, his third record, but first to be produced by Zappa. With Zappa at the helm, he basically gave Van Vliet carte blanche, artistically and financially. And Van Vliet took full advantage. 

The stories about the recording of Trout Mask Replica sound terrifying. The album was recorded after an eight month rehearsal period, during which the entire band was forced by Van Vliet to live communally in a tiny house in suburban LA. Members of the band likened the experience to being in a cult – Van Vliet emotionally terrorized the band, and visitors even called the house, “Manson-esque.” There was little to no money, very little food, and rehearsals were non-stop and intensive, averaging about 14 hours a day. It was so bad that a few musicians attempted escape, and Van Vliet punched guys and threw them down staircases. Not cool.

After the painful eight months passed, the band recorded the 28 songs that became Trout Mask Replica relatively quickly, and when they were finished, Van Vliet spent a few days dubbing in his gruff vocals over their already recorded instrumentals. It was at this point Zappa realized Van Vliet was creating something singular and odd, and rather than offer guidance or help, he took a hands-off approach and allowed Van Vliet to operate under the clarity of his own vision. 

And man, what a vision. It’s like nothing I’ve ever heard before, and it’s more than forty years old. I guess it comes off mostly as “avante-garde,” but classifying it is cheap. John Peel, the legendary British music journalist may have nailed it when he said, “If there has been anything in the history of popular music which could be described as a work of art in a way that people who are involved in other areas of art would understand, then Trout Mask Replica is probably that work.' 

Yup. It’s just…a big, sprawling, incredible piece of….art. Not a Monet, or a Rembrandt…no, this is modern art. Jagged, strange, and absurd, yet somehow moving and thoughtful. This is definitely not something you want to throw in as background at your next dinner party. It’s the kind of album you listen to on headphones and let hit you hard, like a spinning mass of twisted metal and wood – it’s a messy sculpture made of sound. 

I’ve posted a few tracks below that I think best exemplify what this album is all about. Or, at the very least, will give you a good idea of what it sounds like, mostly. But I can’t suggest enough trying to listen to the whole thing, at least once. In my mind, there are two things it reminds me of – The Minutemen’s album “Double Nickels on the Dime,” and John Waters’ movie “Pink Flamingos.” Don’t know why. Can’t even try to explain it. It’s just the feeling I get from those is in the same ballpark. A feeling that I can’t really describe. Which I hope is what Van Vliet was going for all along.

I chose to skip rating this album in my typical "out of 5 stars" ratings. It just doesn't seem right. If you've got any thoughts on this one, just let me know in the comments!


Trout Mask Replica - Important Tracks:

[ mp3 ]: Captain Beefheart - Frownland

[ mp3 ]: Captain Beefheart - Moonlight On Vermont

[ mp3 ]: Captain Beefheart - Orange Claw Hammer

[ mp3 ]: Captain Beefheart - Sugar 'N Spikes

BONUS: Found this clip of Van Vliet on the Letterman Show, circa 1982. Pretty fascinating. You can get a good idea for how "out there" he really was.

The Fantastic Expedition of Dillard & Clark (1968)


"The cover really gives the wrong impression, doesn't it?"

Uh. Yeah. All "sidecar" jokes aside, I cannot speak for the physical chemistry between Dillard and Clark, but I can say this - this is a hell of an album. They may resemble a kooky TV sitcom couple (or just a regular couple), but when Doug Dillard and Gene Clark got together, the product was one of the best country albums of the sixties.

Gene Clark was the original lead singer of The Byrds (before that whole "Gram Parsons" guy), while Doug Dillard was the heart and soul of his own band, The Dillards. Clark is considered one of the most under-appreciated artists of his time - a fantastic songwriter with a great ear for a hook but a strong sense of history and affinity for classic American country music. If you haven't listened to his great solo record Echoes...well, I hadn't. So I totally understand. I'm not judging you. It's really good, though.

Back Cover
And so is "The Fantastic Expedition." It got a timeless feel, like all great bluegrass and country music. The songs sound like they've existed forever; they unfold effortlessly upon first listen, and become familiar very quickly. 

The opener, Out On the Side, is a great introduction to both the album and Gene Clark's songwriting. Very reminiscent of his work with The Byrds, it rolls along at an easy pace, and the vocal harmonies on the tag line are wistful and haunting at the same time. Being full of wist is a tough emotion to pull off, but it's pitch-perfect here.

Train Leaves Here This Morning is probably my favorite track. With a jug-band base line and an expert minimalist banjo part by Doug Dillard (minimalist except for the killer fifty-two second solo in the middle) , it could be the soundtrack to a sixties version of 3:10 to Yuma starring Peter Fonda that I just made up in my head. Mostly because it's about a train, and so was that movie.

This album is the perfect kind of record for this project. For music junkies like myself, there is no better feeling than exposing someone to something new, and seeing them love it. And from father to son it's even more special - every time he pulls a record out I've never heard, it feels like I'm fifteen again, and he's showing me something new. It's our common language. I may not have inherited his analytical intellect or his obsession with statistics, but with every Dillard & Clark sent my way, and every Wilco I send back to him, we grow closer.

Who knows? Maybe someday he'll even get me to like Jackson Browne.

- N.W.

4.5 / 5.0 DADS

4.5 / 5.0 SONS

Essential Tracks:
[ mp3 ]: Dillard & Clark - Train Leaves Here This Morning

[ mp3 ]: Dillard & Clark - Out On the Side

**** Full album not available to stream. Read rave reviews and buy it HERE.

It's a Beautiful Day - ST (1969)


"Well...it was the sixties..."

Ah, the Sixties, the exalted era of rock'n'roll, when the battle cry was "peace love dope!" and Simon & Garfunkel were considered "edgy." Certainly, the Sixties remain one of the most important decades of the past hundred years, both politically and culturally. I guess it also something to do with the coming of age of the baby boom generation - just as I romanticize the unlikely resurgence of ska and swing during my college years, so does my father romanticize the musical revolution of his time.

Only - he kept all his records, and I still can't find my Cherry Poppin' Daddies CD. Oh well.

It's a Beautiful Day is the perfect sixties time capsule. In other words, it's one freaky-deaky acid trip of a record. From the very first track, "White Bird," to the sprawling closer "Time Is," it's like listening to musical gypsies jam with Captain Beefheart in Provo Park. I can almost taste the LSD. 

In fact, when I put this record on for the first time, all I could think about was another piece of sixties nostalgia that my dad exposed me to when I was younger - the film "Easy Rider."

For the uninitiated, "Easy Rider" is not exactly children's fare. It's a movie about two dudes making their way across the country on motorcycles, experiencing the sixties and all that entailed. Which means drugs. Mostly. And sex. But a lot of drugs. The movie actually ends with its own freaky-deaky acid trip, which could easily have been scored by a track from It's a Beautiful Day. (Watch it here.) I apologize if that's the first thing you watch this morning.

Was it awkward for me to watch something like that with my father? Yes. But it was tempered by the fact that he was excited for me to see it. It was like he was sharing with me a time capsule from his formative years. In the same way, I hope to share with my children the definitive film of the late nineties - "American Pie."

Anyway, the music itself here is pretty darn good. It meanders at times, but that lends the album a sense of immediacy. When "White Bird" snaps back into the chorus after a full two minutes of jamming, you can practically hear a gaggle of stoned hippies smile and clap, as they happily remember that they were in fact listening to a song, not riding a dragon into an oversized mailbox. "Wasted Union Blues" actually rocks pretty hard, with a loose, rolling drive that picks up steam as the song goes along. If your tastes are a bit more bizarre, try "Bulgaria" or "Bombay Calling," both of which are little musical trips to their respective titular locations. ("Bombay Calling" starts with some incredible violin, which is a total soft-spot for me.)

In the end, It's a Beautiful Day only gets 3 out of 5 Dads. I feel like dads may be a little embarrassed to admit that they're really into something so esoteric.

However, the record does receive 4.5 Sons, because one time I was playing this stuff at a party, and a girl said, "Hey Nelson - this is fantastic guacamole, and this music is sexy as hell!" (She was a burlesque dancer.) Seriously, though, this music is just anachronistic enough to be cool again.
3.0 / 5.0 DADS

4.5 / 5.0 SONS

Inside Cover - Amazing, right?
Inside Cover

Levon Helm - American Son (1980)

“Levon Helm? You’ve never heard of Levon Helm? How about the Band? Have you heard the Band?”

I was 14 years old, and no, I hadn’t heard of either. I was at a summer camp for nerds, and my ‘writing instructor’ Boyd McBeardyshorts* was doing what all good teachers do – making you feel like you don’t know shit. And back then, I really didn’t. Led Zeppelin and Jimi Hendrix had yet to be discovered; I didn’t know the difference between Wilson Pickett and Wilson Phillips. There was a fat lady in one of them?

Man, was I stupid. Well, maybe not stupid, but you know how they say when you get older, your brain categorizes more? Like, when you were a kid, all you saw were ‘adults,’ but then when you’re grown up, you start to see differences in people – race, class, general level of attractiveness, et cetera. I feel like it’s the opposite with music. When I was a teenager I categorized Van Morrison and The Allman Brothers as “old.” As “stuff that wasn’t cool to listen to.” As, “Dad’s music.” But as I aged, something funny happened. Categories like that began to break down, and I’m finally at the point where there’s basically two – “Good” and “Bad.”

As a teenager, a singer’s voice was the first thing I tuned into. Listening to Bob Dylan for the first time was jarring – why does everyone like this guy so much? He sucks! But when I got home from summer camp full of verve for The Band, my dad played The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down. And man…that voice! It sounded like it came from a hundred years ago, or maybe a hundred years in the future. He sang without artifice or effort, it was like stumbling upon the wind or something. And that was the first time I heard Levon Helm.

The Band became a fixture of my mixtapes for years after that. From Tears of Rage to Ophelia, I listened to it all. Moved on to Robbie Robertson’s solo stuff, and hated it (except for one song – Showdown at Big Sky). Found Levon Helm’s solo stuff…and loved it. Especially his cover of Springsteen’s Atlantic City, which might be my favorite song, um, ever. It started to become clear to me that Levon Helm was in fact, ‘where it’s at.’

My dad’s got a few of Levon’s solo albums, but I chose American Son, mostly because of the cover, which wouldn’t look out of place airbrushed on a T-shirt. After reading his autobiography, This Wheel’s On Fire (highly recommended), I learned that this album was never really conceived as a complete album – it’s more of a collection of Helm’s finest studio work during those few years. He had been cast as an actor in “Coal Miner’s Daughter,” and the record company thought it’d be good to capitalize on his fame. Regardless of its origin, American Son is one of Helm’s best solo albums. My two favorite tracks are below. Enjoy! And let me know what you think in the comments!

[ mp3 ]: Levon Helm – Hurricane

[ mp3 ]: Levon Helm – Dance Me Down Easy

(*probably not his real name)


Harry Nilsson - Nilsson Schmilsson (1971)


I'm not exactly proud of how I was first exposed to Harry Nilsson, but I'll admit it. I heard a sample of him in a Blackalicious song and researched it. I know it shows my ignorance for not finding the man sooner, however - this is how I've discovered lots of things over the years. For example, I only watched the movie Scanners because it was briefly referenced in Tommy Boy. I like to think of my culture tree as having long, spindly, and sometimes embarassing roots.

Plus, the Blackalicious reference was more than just a single sample. Their album Blazing Arrow is littered with samples and thematic references to Nilsson's classic children's record, The Point. Check out the title track, which samples Nilsson's  Me and My Arrow.  It's awesome.

Sadly, my dad does not have The Point on LP. However, he dug around a bit and found me both Nilsson Schmilsson and Son of Schmilsson, two of his best. And when I started listening to them, it was clear that even if you don't know about Harry Nilsson, you've definitely heard him before.

As far as entry points go, Nilsson Schmilsson is about the best place to start. Equal parts familiar and quirky, you can sing along with almost half the record on the first listen; especially the second side, as it leads off with mega-smash Without You, followed by the novelty hit Coconut, then Let the Good Times Roll. But the rest of the Nilsson originals ring a similar bell in the ear - they sound like standards, but a few quirks make them undeniably Nilsson-ian. 

[ mp3 ]: Harry Nilsson - Gotta Get Up (Vinyl Rip 256kbps)

The opener Gotta Get Up is a good example. Quirky enough to be the "Ringo" song on a Beatles album, it perfectly showcases Nilsson's effortless vocals. It sounds so natural and instinctive, yet there's just enough complication in the arrangement to let you know there's something different going on here. It also makes me realize that Badly Drawn Boy's Damon Gough wouldn't have a career if he didn't have Nilsson as a touchstone.

By the time the end of the record rolls around, Nilsson's strangeness becomes so familiar that the hard rocking Jump Into the Fire's guttural howls are completely acceptable. He's convinced you of his virtuosity, and at this point, he can do whatever he damn well wants.

[ mp3 ]: Harry Nilsson - Jump Into the Fire (Vinyl Rip 256kbps)

Overall, you get the sense from Nilsson Schmilsson that Nilsson the man is something of an enigma. You can't really get a grasp on the person behind the lyrics, like you can with a Springsteen or a Van Morrison. In fact, a documentary about Nilsson was released this year called "Who Is Harry Nilsson (And Why Is Everybody Talkin' About Him?)" I'd be interested in seeing that, because I've got the feeling the more I see about the man, the less I'll have him figured out.

Buy some Nilsson here. (If you're not a MOG member, consider it. It's the best alternative I've found post-Lala)

PS - If anyone has seen the Nilsson documentary, please let me know what you thought about it in the comments. I may have a Nilsson night on Netflix. And yes, I'll smoke a pipe and wear a robe.

UPDATE: Great interview with director of the Nilsson documentary HERE. (via Aquarium Drunkard.)

Nils Lofgren - Nils Lofgren

Album Cover
I was pretty excited for this one. 

If you're not familiar with Nils Lofgren, here's a little back story: He spent the early part of his career collaborating with Neil Young, the patron saint of this website. Later in his career, he was part of Bruce Springsteen's E-Street Band, replacing Little Steven for the Born in the USA tour. But in the middle there (and by that I mean mid 70s to mid 80s) Nils went solo, and produced some really fine records. His self-titled debut is widely considered a masterpiece.

Now that you know a little bit about the guy, and you can see the cover of his debut right over there → , what are you thinking, sound-wise? My guess was rough and tumble rock and roll. Maybe it's the bottle of Drambuie? Grand Marnier???? that Nils is downing on the cover, but this seems like it's going to be a bar fight soundtrack...something to play while watching pint glasses and obscenities fly. And Nils looks like the kind of guy who would help you find the other half of your tooth.

Back Cover
But no. Don't let the cover fool you. This isn't bar music. And that fat kid mural on the front? Another red herring. There's nothing fat on this record. The songs are trim. You'd think after years of working with Neil Young would leave a man conditioned to meander a bit. Nope. The second track (but true opener) Back It Up clocks in under two and half minutes.

[ mp3 ] Nils Lofgren - Back It Up

Even the guitar solo is compact. It's crisp, leads beautifully into a key change, and follows the song as it fades away. Three cheers for the fade out by the way. I love that this was the only way to end a rock song in the seventies. I like to imagine entire bands struggling to come up with endings to songs, and when all possibilities have been exhausted, they look at each other, shrug and say in defeated unison, "fade out." Then they go get high.

Side A Label
I Don't Want to Know fades out too, but not before it's bouncy melody worms its way into your brain. 

[ mp3 ]: Nils Lofgren - I Don't Want To Know

I Don't Want To Know makes me understand why some people were disappointed when this album first came out. There's almost NO GUITAR in it. Led by the keyboards, the song rolls along without the help of blistering guitar solo or instrumental breakdown. It's pop Nick Lowe would be proud of; effortless and easy, played with precision and grace. You can at least take some comfort in the fact that the song seems to be addressed toward, for lack of a better term, a slutty lady. Now that's rock and roll, right?

Side B Label
So, yeah. Nils still has some edge to him here. And like other talented musicians stuck in a broken system of record labels and tours and all that, (Lowe and Freddie Mercury come to mind) he's got some vitriol left for the institution that is Rock and Roll.

[ mp3 ]: Nils Lofgren - Rock and Roll Crook

At least, I think that song is about how much he hates the corporatizing of rock and roll. I mean, I'm pretty sure. Or maybe it's about how he's awesome and other people suck at rock and roll and are just ripping him off. I don't know. There's something about him getting all the ladies, and then he plays his guitar really good, and sounds angry about it. Sounds like a man rocking out after some straight hits off a bottle of Grand Marnier, if you ask me.



Dad's Records  Celebrates Almost-Anniversary!!!

As Dad's Records marches forward toward its one-year anniversary, I thought I might share some exciting news with you. The most important ingredient of this website is, obviously, the music...that wonderful stuff stored within the tight grooves of a 33. When I throw on a record to digitally record it, I use several electronic devices - a turntable, an amplifier, and, of course, the computer to record it.

While it is a simple process, I do everything I can to maximize the clarity of the music; from cleaning the records and stylus thoroughly to digitally adjusting the recording levels for every album I record. So far, the sound quality of these files has been pretty darn good.

However, this past week I made a major upgrade to my recording process. I replaced my old turntable with a brand new Pro-Ject 1.3 belt-driven genie!  
While not a super high-end record player, the Pro-Ject 1.3 is a definite upgrade over the old turntable that was used previously at Dad's Records. And after a week of test-driving, it's very clear to me that this new player is superior in every way to its predecessor. Not only that, it's HOTTTTT.

So I hope you continue to enjoy Dad's Records, and know that the effort is being made in every little way to make sure these records are preserved accurately, honestly, and beautifully. Enjoy!

- N.W.