Tag Archives: The Vinyl Review


The only piece of David Bowie’s long and crazy career that has found its way into my vinyl collection is a single of “Day-In Day-Out.”

The cover photo perhaps best signifies the artist’s mind: There is a lot going on and none of it makes particular sense. That being said, the man has made some good music during the decades.

This 1987 single, and the B-side “Julie,” are not on the top of my list. It might be because they sound like normal songs. They aren’t particularly weird — and Bowie’s best work is strange.

These songs certainly don’t have the epic feel of “Space Oddity” — the Bowie song that I hope to someday add to my record collection.

(Note: Ziggy Stardust and professional wrestler Goldust, while both dusts, are not the same.)



I played the saxophone in elementary school.

The experience was painful and short-lived. That being said, I know a good sax solo when I hear one — and the riff in “Baker Street” is one of the best in rock music.

The song is part of Gerry Rafferty’s 1977 album “City to City.” The sax player, Raphael Ravenscroft, told U.K.’s The Telegraph that he was paid 27 pounds for the work. He died at age 60 in October.

“Baker Street” is followed by my second-favorite Rafferty song, “Right Down the Line.” Both are of the chillaxin’ variety.

They are good tunes for after a long day of work.

“Baker Street” likely made Rafferty, who died in 2011, a lot of money.

Ravenscroft never even collected his small pittance. The check bounced, according to the report.

(Best advice for aspiring young saxophonists: Get your parents ear plugs — for at least the first six weeks.)



It’s obvious that a lot of the 45s I have in my collection came from old jukeboxes.
Some of them, like my lone Everclear record, has “For Jukebox Use Only” on the label. 
Sometimes it feels good to break the rules. 
The other night I listened to one of these rogue records, by Everclear. The single “Heartspark Dollarsign” is on the A-side. But I like the B-side, “Queen of the Air.” 
It has a good bass riff at the end, which goes a long way for someone who used to play. 
The copy I have is in pristine condition — so I guess its number didn’t get called a whole lot when someone dropped a quarter. 
(Note: If you Google “Everclear” the No. 1 result is the 151-proof liquor. The band is the No. 2 result. Draw your own conclusions.)



“Every Breath You Take” is a ballad for creepers.

It is a great song by a great band. The Police have a lot
of hits.

But a song that details intent to follow someone’s actions — down to the breath — is creepy. It leads side 2 of the band’s 1983 album “Synchronicity.”

My copy happens to be extremely warped, so I didn’t get a good listen to the songs on the first half of side 1. Side 2, including “Every Breath You Take” and “King of Pain” make the album worth the buy, bent plastic and all.

(Likely outcomes of “Every Breath You Take”: being slapped in the face; being chased down by a dog and then slapped in the face; being jailed for stalking — and then slapped in the face.)