Tag Archives: Vinyl

Vinyl Spotlight: Herbie Hancock, Empyrean Isles (Blue Note 4175) UA RVG Stereo Pressing

  • United Artists stereo reissue circa 1972-1975
  • “VAN GELDER” stamped in dead wax

Personnel:

  • Freddie Hubbard, trumpet
  • Herbie Hancock, piano
  • Ron Carter, bass
  • Tony Williams, drums

Recorded June 17, 1964 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released November 1964

This is one of my favorite Herbie Hancock albums. It has a soft, gentle vibe that I return to time and time again when I want to listen to something quiet. The quartet with trumpet seems like the perfect minimal arrangement for this album, and even though I’m not the biggest Freddie Hubbard fan, I find that he fits in with the rest of the group like a glove here. I love the cover too. Reid Miles had a way of making album art reflect the music contained within, and with this album, the simple, out-of-focus image of shimmering water cast in a teal blue tint complements the music extremely well…even the pronunciation of the title has a calming sort of effect (“Em-PEE-ree-in”).

Although the album’s closing track, “The Egg”, ventures out a bit too far for my taste, the other three compositions are all favorites. “Cantaloupe Island” sounds like part three in a trilogy of soulful, radio-friendly Hancock compositions that began with “Watermelon Man” and “Blind Man, Blind Man”, but side 1 consists of sixteen of my favorite minutes in music. Eighteen-year-old (Eighteen!) Tony Williams’ drumming is fiery, imaginative and expressive. His kit sounds incredible here as well, especially his ride cymbal. Engineer Rudy Van Gelder’s spacious Englewood Cliffs studio had a way of making drum kits sound colossal when they needed to, which can be heard during Williams’ solo on “One Finger Snap”. Who would have ever thought that Blue Note darling Freddie Hubbard would pair with the rhythm section of Miles Davis’ Second Great Quintet so well?

Vinyl Spotlight: Cliff Jordan (Blue Note 1565) UA Mono Pressing

  • United Artists mono reissue circa 1972-1975
  • “A DIVISION OF UNITED ARTISTS RECORDS, INC.” on both labels

Personnel:

  • Lee Morgan, trumpet
  • Curtis Fuller, trombone
  • John Jenkins, alto saxophone
  • Cliff Jordan, tenor saxophone
  • Ray Bryant, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Art Taylor, drums

Recorded June 2, 1957 at Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, New Jersey
Originally released October 1957

Truth be told, these United Artists mono pressings from the early to mid ’70s are hit and miss, having heard more than one that suffered from significant non-fill problems. But this particular copy made it through that inconsistent manufacturing process unscathed. United Artists pressings also seem to have a gentler top end than a lot of modern audiophile reissues, which to some collectors makes them worth seeking out despite the difficulty in finding a quality copy.

This particular Cliff Jordan album also seems difficult to find in any format, which is why I jumped at the chance to buy it when it popped up on eBay. Discogs indicates that it has only been issued in the US twice on vinyl (originally in 1957 and this copy in the early ’70s) and never on CD. Though it has been reissued by Toshiba EMI in Japan once as an LP in 1984 (undocumented by Discogs) and three more times on compact disc there, these copies are hard to find in the states. And try you may, but you will not find these sides in any shape or form on iTunes or Spotify, making this a rare and special listen indeed.

Mono Vinyl Playback on a Modern Stereo Audio System

Since its introduction in the 1950s, the stereo audio format has become an inseparable part of listening to recorded music. This two-channel standard has been implemented on such a universal scale, the terms “stereo” and “audio system” are virtually interchangeable today in everyday language. The original theory of sound recording was a little different though. Mono, short for monaural, is the single-channel format fundamentally connected to the invention of recorded sound. Mono enjoyed an unchallenged half-century reign in the music industry until stereo came along to dominate and drive the senior format to the point of commercial extinction.

For someone who grew up in the stereo age, mono recordings can sound primitive and cramped when compared to the wider, more spacious aspects of stereo sound, and this heightened sense of realism is what ultimately won over the music-buying public back in the 1960s. But not only are some of history’s greatest music performances only available to us as mono recordings today, time has proven that the antiquated format possesses an allure that continues to charm music lovers of all ages. When done right, mono recordings demonstrate a great sense of cohesion and power, and the best of them also do an ample job of establishing a sense of depth and space. Though creating a mono recording that checks all of these boxes is no small technological feat, the great audio engineers of yesteryear have managed to hand down to us a treasure trove of work in mono that is both breathtaking and timeless.

If you’re a vintage jazz record collector, you’re probably aware of the fact that all mono LPs are compatible with today’s stereo audio equipment. While this is true, playing a mono record on a stereo audio system without making the proper adjustments leaves room for improvement. This article is designed to help you get the most out of playing your mono LPs in a modern stereo world.

What Exactly Is a Mono Record?

The answer to this question is potentially quite complicated. The difference between mono recordings and mono masterings of recordings needs clarifying, as does the difference between mono records cut before and after the death of the mono format in the late 1960s. For the purpose of this article though we can settle for a simpler definition of a mono record being a record that is intended to produce the same exact audio signal in both the left and right channels of a stereo audio chain. True, without any fuss a listener will hear roughly the same thing coming from both speakers when they play a clean mono record on a stereo audio system (think reissues), but our goal is to hear the exact same thing from both speakers and in the process lower distortion and improve the signal-to-noise ratio of the overall listening experience. This goal becomes especially important when dealing with original pressings made in the 1950s and 1960s that have accumulated a significant amount of wear from usage.

Knowing If a Record Is Mono

Before we get started, let’s be sure that our records are even mono in the first place (by all means, if this is a no-brainer for you, feel free to skip this section). The easiest way to tell if a record is mono is if there is some indicator on either the front or back of the album jacket. For vintage records (we’re still talking ’50s and ’60s), the absence of the word “stereo” will usually suggest that a record is mono. The next easiest way to tell is simply by listening, and the best way to achieve this goal is with headphones. If the music sounds mono (like it’s in the center of the stereo field) but the surface noise sounds stereo (wider in the stereo field), your record is mono. Note that the loudest parts of a mono record are where you will hear the first signs of distortion from wear, and at those moments the music may sound like it’s stereo (though it shouldn’t), so focus on quieter parts of the music. Finally, to state the obvious, if there are instruments or sounds distinctly positioned to either the left or right side of the stereo spread, your record is stereo. In cases where the stereo positioning of instruments is more extreme — common in our era of the ’50s and ’60s — you can also easily identify a stereo record by turning the panning knob on your amplifier all the way left then all the way right and back again. If some instruments sound very present at one turn then very distant or completely absent at another, then your record is stereo.

What’s Wrong with Listening to a Mono Record in Stereo?

If you’ve been listening to mono records in stereo your whole life, there are two significant ways in which your listening experience can be improved by effectively listening in mono on a stereo system. First, surface noise can be reduced and made less noticeable. Many marks on the surface of a vinyl record manifest as out-of-phase noise on the far left and right of the stereo field. When listening to a mono record on a stereo audio system, these pops and ticks are heard in a very different position than the actual music, which lies directly in the center of the stereo field. By listening in mono though, not only does the out-of-phase nature of this noise lead to its reduction in relation to the volume level of the music, much of whatever surface noise remains will be masked by the music in the center of the would-be stereo field.

Presented here are two audio clips. The first is of a mono record being played in stereo, the second being the same record played in mono. In the second clip, notice how the surface noise has collapsed to the center of the “stereo field” and is more difficult to discern once the music kicks in:

Horace Silver, “Finger Poppin'” (Original 1959 mono pressing of Finger Poppin’ with the Horace Silver Quintet)

Stereo Playback:

Mono Playback:

Second and similar to surface noise, groove wear on vintage mono records also often manifests as out-of-phase (stereo) noise. This distortion can also be reduced by listening in mono, and the fuzzy, smeared sound that would be heard listening in stereo becomes a tighter, more focused central image. The following audio clips emphasize this type of improvement:

Lou Donaldson, “Avalon” (Original 1962 mono pressing of Gravy Train)

Stereo Playback:

Mono Playback:

For a visual account of these improvements, the following two diagrams illustrate how listening to mono records in mono can provide an improved listening experience (the circles represent music and the curved lines represent surface noise):

Stereo playback of a mono vinyl LP

Mono playback of a mono vinyl LP

How Do I Play My Mono Records in Mono on a Stereo System?

Now that we’ve identified the ways in which playback of your mono LPs can be improved, how do we achieve this? Everyone has different equipment situations so there is no one-size-fits-all solution, but surely there is a sensible option for everyone.

If you use a turntable with a tonearm that accepts removable headshells, the most obvious hassle-free solution is to acquire a mono cartridge. Luckily, getting a mono cartridge doesn’t mean you need to hunt down a vintage one. Cartridge manufacturers like Ortofon, Grado, Audio-Technica, and Miyajima all currently provide quality mono cartridge solutions that are compatible with modern stereo turntables.* You may need to adjust your counterweight each time you switch, but when you want to play a mono record, simply swap cartridges. (Click here to visit the Deep Groove Mono Cartridge Database.)

A sampling of mono cartridges currently on the market

If you don’t have a tonearm that uses removable headshells, or if you simply don’t want to fuss with swapping the cartridge and adjusting the counterweight every time, there are other options. While a mono cartridge will produce identical signals in both channels of a stereo system (a duplicated “mono signal”, if you will), simply summing the left and right channels of a stereo cartridge can actually produce comparable results (for more information, see the appendix at the end of this article).

One way to do this is with a mono button on an amplifier. Many vintage stereo amplifiers have mono buttons. If you don’t have access to one of these vintage amps, you can also sum with a stereo-mono switch, though these can be hard to find and are usually custom-built (members of the Steve Hoffman Forum can purchase one here). Another summing option is using a “double Y-cable” configuration, which involves placing a pair of RCA adapters in the signal chain, though the obvious drawback of this option is that you need to remove the adapters every time you switch between mono and stereo (the method is outlined here in this Steve Hoffman Music Forum thread).

Will either using a mono cartridge or summing provide more favorable results? Though the answer to this question certainly depends on which cartridges you are using, here we offer up one of these comparisons. The first is the result of playing a vintage mono record with a Grado MC+ mono cartridge and the second is a clip of the same record being played with a Shure M44-7 stereo cartridge and the mono button engaged on an integrated amplifier:

Johnny Coles, “Jano” (Original 1964 mono pressing of Little Johnny C.)

Grado MC+ mono cartridge:

Shure M44-7 stereo cartridge with channels summed:

A final, less popular option is to use a “left channel only” or “right channel only” setting on an amplifier. Unlike a mono setting that sums the channels, these settings will duplicate one of the two stereo channels in both signal paths. While this method typically fails to improve the signal-to-noise ratio of the signal, it is preferable in some rare instances. For example, if a record was played many times on a turntable with severe anti-skate problems, one groove wall may be in much better shape than the other, and listening to one channel or the other may prove more desirable than summing.

McIntosh MA6200 integrated amplifier with mono, L-to-L&R, and R-to-L&R settings

Vintage vs. Modern Mono Records & Stylus Size: Is Bigger Always Better?

The only other variable that modern mono lovers need to consider is stylus size. Today’s stereo (and mono) LPs are cut with a groove width optimized for playback with a modern stylus tip measuring approximately 0.7 mils at its longest radius (1 mil equals 0.001 inches or one-thousandth of an inch; in the metric system, 0.7 mils is equivalent to about 18 “microns” or micrometers, where 1 micron equals 0.001 millimeters or one-millionth of a meter). However, vintage mono LPs mastered prior to 1970 were actually cut with the intention of being played back with a larger 1-mil (25-micron) stylus.

For mono LPs mastered after 1970, a 0.7-mil stylus is the only sensible option. Fortunately, this is the spec for virtually all modern cartridges, mono and stereo alike (a few exceptions to this rule are the Ortofon OM cartridge with optional D25M stylus, the Ortofon CG 25, and the Miyajima Zero, all which sport 1-mil styli). As for playback of vintage mono LPs mastered before 1970, while it’s true that these discs were cut to be played with a 1-mil stylus, a 0.7-mil stylus will also fit these grooves. What’s more, there’s an attractive theory that a narrower 0.7-mil profile might avoid areas of wear higher up on the groove wall created by repeated plays back when 1 mil was the standard. In a perfect world, collectors would have both options at their disposal and make their choices on a case-by-case basis. But in the event that you must choose one stylus for playback of all mono and stereo LPs from all eras, a 0.7-mil stylus should suit you just fine.

(L to R) Ortofon OM with D25M stylus, Ortofon CG 25, Miyajima Zero

Once more, we have two audio clips to offer up for comparison. The first is a vintage mono LP from 1959 being played with the previously mentioned Ortofon OM cartridge and D25M 1-mil conical stylus, and the second clip is the same record being played with a Shure M44-G cartridge with a 0.7-mil conical stylus (both cartridges are stereo and channels are summed for both clips):

Donald Byrd, “Lover, Come Back to Me” (Original 1959 mono pressing of Off to the Races)

Ortofon OM cartridge with D25M 1-mil stylus:

Shure M44-G cartridge with stock 0.7-mil stylus:

Note that stylus size in and of itself has no bearing on whether a record will play mono or stereo; the inner workings of the cartridge are what ultimately determine this.

Conclusion

Despite stereo’s current reign as the industry’s standard format, mono sound has certain qualities that distinguish it from stereo and make it special. When done right, mono can be a highly enjoyable listening experience. Mono recordings have a simplicity that give them character. Their “punch” is intrinsically tied to the limitations of the format, and the same can be said of the way the elements of a mono mix meld together into one cohesive whole. My hope is that this article has explained how to get the most out of your mono records and has also provided you with a practical, affordable solution in your quest to obtain the finest mono vinyl playback possible.


* Advanced collectors will appreciate a note regarding the difference between single-coil and dual-coil mono cartridge design. In theory, a single-coil design will provide an even higher signal-to-noise ratio than a dual-coil design. Known single-coil models include the Ortofon CG 25, Miyajima Zero, and Denon DL-102. Additionally, mono carts with no vertical compliance (the CG 25 and Zero) may also produce superior results, though newcomers should be aware that the lower compliance of these cartridges requires a special high-mass tonearm to achieve the appropriate resonant frequency for the system.

Appendix

“Stereo information” in a stereo record is information that is not equally present in the left and right channels of a stereo signal, and it is determined by the unique vertical modulations cut into each groove wall. “Mono (centered) information” is equally present in both channels and is determined by horizontal modulations in the groove only. Since surface marks on a record generate both horizontal and vertical motions of a stylus, playing a mono record with a stereo cartridge will not only reproduce noise related to the vertical motions of the stylus, that noise will usually be more noticeable because it will be in a very different position than the music in the stereo field. Using a modern mono cartridge will certainly cure this ailment, but summing a stereo signal from a stereo cartridge will produce noticeable improvements as well. The reason for this is because much vertical noise in a record’s groove is “out-of-phase”, meaning that the voltages produced by the cartridge’s left and right channels are to some extent polar opposites of each other, so when they are summed together, not only is the volume of this (stereo) noise reduced, the relative volume of the mono information i.e. the music is slightly boosted as well.

To illustrate this, the screenshots below show various waveforms in a digital audio workstation. The first shows the left and right channels of a mono record being played in stereo, while the second shows the same record played with the left and right channels summed using the mono button on an amplifier (both clips use the same stereo cartridge):

Lead-in groove of a mono record being played in stereo

Lead-in groove of the same mono record being played with channels summed to mono

Additional Resources:

(1) Deep Groove Mono Cartridge Database: Deep Groove Mono’s own database of mono cartridges currently on the market

(2) “Ortofon True Mono Cartridges”: Fantastic article on the Ortofon website discussing the history of monophonic playback

(3) “RCA Victor Announces Living Stereo”: 1958 short film explaining the science of stereo records (YouTube link)

(4) Stereo Cutting Head GIFs: Awesome GIFs explaining the science of stereo cutting heads, courtesy of VinylRecorder.com

Vinyl Spotlight: Hank Mobley, No Room for Squares (Blue Note 84149) UA RVG Stereo Pressing

  • United Artists stereo reissue circa 1975-1978
  • “VAN GELDER” stamped in dead wax

Personnel:

All but “Up a Step”, “Old World, New Imports”:

  • Lee Morgan, trumpet
  • Hank Mobley, tenor saxophone
  • Andrew Hill, piano
  • John Ore, bass
  • Philly Joe Jones, drums

“Up a Step”, “Old World, New Imports” only:

  • Donald Byrd, trumpet
  • Hank Mobley, tenor saxophone
  • Herbie Hancock, piano
  • Butch Warren, bass
  • Philly Joe Jones, drums

“Up a Step”, “Old World, New Imports” recorded March 7, 1963
All other selections recorded October 2, 1963
All selections recorded at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released May 1964

1 Three Way Split
2 Carolyn
3 Up a Step
4 No Room for Squares
5 Me ‘n You
6 Old World, New Imports

So far on Deep Groove Mono, we’ve covered original pressings, Liberty pressings and early ’70s United Artists pressings of classic albums released by the beloved Blue Note label. This ’70s copy of Hank Mobley’s No Room for Squares with the all-blue label and the white (sometimes black) lowercase “b” logo is more or less the last phase in vintage US Blue Note pressings. (Prior to the current era of audiophile reissue programs, which gained great momentum in the late ’90s with Classic Records, the ’80s and ’90s saw a series of less popular, less acclaimed reissue programs eclipsed by the advent and subsequent reign of the compact disc.) This reissue program also constitutes the last time the original mastering work of engineer Rudy Van Gelder would be used to press reissues of classic Blue Note albums.

As is the case with the earlier mono UA reissues of the early ’70s with the classic blue-and-white label scheme, these all blue-label reissues seem hit or miss. This is at least in part due to the fact that Van Gelder’s metal work was being employed beyond the point where it could produce records of the exceptional quality originals and earlier reissues are known for. Several Blue Note albums I have encountered with all-blue-labels and Van Gelder mastering have been duds, but No Room for Squares is not one of them.

This is one of my favorite Hank Mobley albums. Recorded in 1963, it is far removed from the string of 1500-series albums Mobley recorded for Blue Note in the late fifties, all of which are very rare and in-demand in their original incarnations. Nonetheless, Mobley puts together a solid, consistent program here, best demonstrated by a pair of the leader’s own compositions (the title track and “Three Way Split”) and the ballad “Carolyn”, an original work of session trumpeter Lee Morgan. Then-veteran of the bop scene, drummer Philly Joe Jones, provides a driving and exciting performance on the skins as well.

Though this is a stereo copy, it is tempting to hit the ‘mono’ button on my amplifier in order gain a sense of what an original mono pressing might sound like. The reason we can be fairly certain that this type of summing can produce comparable results is because of what we know about the way Rudy Van Gelder recorded, mixed, and mastered these albums for both mono and stereo. Though the clarity and separation offered by the stereo spread is a treat in its own right, summing to mono provides a glue to the mix that the stereo presentation is incapable of, especially when it comes to the harmonies of the horns.

Vinyl Spotlight: Herbie Hancock, Inventions and Dimensions (Blue Note 84147) Liberty RVG Stereo Pressing

  • Stereo Liberty reissue circa 1966-1970
  • “A DIVISION OF LIBERTY RECORDS, INC.” on both labels
  • “VAN GELDER” stamped in dead wax

Personnel:

  • Herbie Hancock, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Willie Bobo, drums and timbales
  • Osvaldo “Chihuahua” Martinez, conga and bongo

Recorded August 30, 1963 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released February 1964

Although Liberty pressings of most classic Blue Note albums are not original pressings, they still have the potential to sound great. They may lack the Plastylite “P” found in the runout groove of most originals but they do usually brandish the Van Gelder stamp in the runout groove, indicating that they were made from the same master lacquer disk as an original. This stereo copy of Herbie Hancock’s third album for Blue Note may not be a first pressing but it still embodies engineer Rudy Van Gelder’s original mastering work.

Many collectors will shun any vintage Blue Note without the “P”, claiming that its absence takes something away from the listening experience. I beg to differ, having never heard a significant contrast between originals and subsequent Liberty-era pressings sourced from the original metal work. In fact, I have found that Liberty pressings are more likely to sound fresher since they are less likely than originals to have suffered excessive wear.

One does need to be careful of how far they venture away from the original release of an album, however. Van Gelder’s mastering was used well into the late ’70s after Liberty had sold Blue Note to United Artists, and depending on the title, it seems there is an increased chance that the original work parts will have lost some measure of quality by this time. These records are more likely to lack the ‘life’ of earlier pressings (usually a reference to lower distortion and better high-frequency detail).

Despite having heard the popular audiophile criticisms of Rudy Van Gelder’s mastering work, I often find his LP masters to be highly accurate, even, and dynamic. But be careful — you won’t get this experience if you’re listening to a worn record. This particular copy was purchased sealed a couple years back, which I feel makes it a shining example of the mastering engineer’s handiwork, certainly more so than any wear-ridden original.

As for the music, this is my favorite Herbie Hancock album. Every time I listen, I listen from start to finish. Hancock takes an experimental approach to the songwriting here and can often be heard working out ideas on the fly. This leads to frequent use of refrain, a technique that has never been popular with jazz soloists (because of the central role improvisation plays in the genre, jazz musicians often seem driven by an intense desire to constantly invent, which means never sitting on the same phrase for very long at all). My longstanding relationship with sampling and hip hop has made me very accustomed to repetition in instrumentation, which I think has much to do with why I find Hancock’s regular use of refrain here a very welcome break from the bop norm. Bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Willie Bobo intensify the trance-like qualities of the music by locking in on various rhythms throughout, and percussionist Chihuahua Martinez’s timing is rock solid — something crucial in a minimal arrangement like this.

Vinyl Spotlight: Kenny Dorham, Quiet Kenny (New Jazz 8225) OJC Stereo Reissue

  • Original Jazz Classics stereo reissue circa 1986 (catalog no. OJC-250)

Personnel:

  • Kenny Dorham, trumpet
  • Tommy Flanagan, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Art Taylor, drums

Recorded November 13, 1959 at Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey
Originally released February 1960

For Collectors

After a couple years of collecting on a budget, the reality of the situation starts to sink in: you won’t be acquiring a first pressing of a holy grail like Kenny Dorham’s Quiet Kenny any time soon.

What makes an album a holy grail? Simply put, a combination of being very rare and very in demand. More specifically, in the case of this overlooked album, it probably has a lot to do with the fact that it didn’t get a proper second U.S. pressing until this version, the 1986 Original Jazz Classics reissue. (According to Discogs, Prestige released a Dorham album in 1970 simply titled 1959 with different album art but the same track listing as the OJC reissue, which includes the originally unreleased “Mack the Knife”.) To give the original even more allure, the tendency for reissue producers to have an overwhelmingly strong preference for stereo has rendered the original the only mono version of this album ever released.

There’s always something about reissues causing them to fall short of the excitement an original provides. Though I avoided Original Jazz Classics reissues for a while for this reason, I eventually relaxed my naïve original pressing snobbery and began considering reissues of favorites that were much too expensive in their first pressing form. I then read about how OJC reissues were by and large considered to be of exceptional sound quality, with the earliest of them guaranteed to be all analog as well (my copy had the original shrink wrap complete with the long rectangular OJC sticker characteristic of OJC albums released in the mid-80s). So I gave these reissues a chance, and by and large they have lived up to my expectations. The artwork and packaging are hit or miss with OJCs, though I think they did a good job with this release, and the fact that the labels mimic those used for the original New Jazz LP is an added bonus.

For Music Lovers

Shortly after I got into jazz, I came across the OJC CD reissue of Quiet Kenny at a local library, and going off the album’s 3.5-star rating in The Penguin Guide to Jazz Recordings and its elite status among collectors, I decided to give it a try. Though the music didn’t immediately draw me in, I soon grew to appreciate the minimal arrangement and the big, empty, dark sound of Rudy Van Gelder’s Englewood Cliffs studio. I also have a leaning toward more gentle styles of playing, which, as the title suggests, this album epitomizes.

Van Gelder Studio, Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey

Quiet Kenny features three Dorham originals: “Blue Friday”, “Blue Spring Shuffle”, and “Lotus Blossom” — not to be confused with “Lotus Flower”, another Dorham composition, a ballad that premiered in 1955 on the ten-inch Blue Note LP Afro-Cuban (BLP 5065). Though “Blue Friday” appears here for the first time, “Lotus Blossom” had first been recorded by Riverside in 1957 with a piano-less quartet led by Dorham (2 Horns, 2 Rhythm, Riverside 255). As much as I enjoy the less busy rendition presented here, the driving pace of the Riverside version along with the harmony offered by Ernie Henry’s sax make the Riverside version tough to beat. “Blue Spring Shuffle” had already been laid to tape as well, appearing several months prior with the truncated title “Blue Spring” on the LP of the same name (Blue Spring, Riverside 297). In this case I hold the more sparse arrangement here in higher regard.

The first track on Quiet Kenny that stood out to me was “Lotus Blossom”, the gentle, uptempo opener. Art Taylor’s solo shines here, the gorgeous sound of which is a combination of the drummer’s well-crafted, finely-tuned kit, Van Gelder’s EMT reverb plate, and the natural ambience of the engineer’s custom-built cathedral-like studio. “My Ideal”, the next song in the sequence, has become one of my favorite jazz ballads. The other ballad, “Alone Together” follows close behind, and overall I find Quiet Kenny to be a solid listen with a clean, sweet sound throughout.

Mono vs. Stereo

Like many Blue Note albums released between the years of 1959 and 1962, every reissue of Quiet Kenny has been stereo despite the original release being exclusively mono. The best explanation for this would be that the album was recorded to two-track tape only. Since Van Gelder didn’t mix down to a separate master tape for mono releases in these instances (all mixing was done on the fly), reissue producers today would only be left with a two-track master tape to work with. And though it’s quite possible that these producers have unanimously preferred the stereo presentation to the mono, they may have also erroneously concluded that the album was monitored and mixed in stereo due to the absence of a mono master tape. But the fact that the inaugural release was strictly in mono strongly suggests the contrary. As a result, the only way to hear this music in mono today short of summing the channels of your stereo is to cough up $2,000+ USD for an original.

Offered here are both the stereo and mono presentations of the opening track for comparison (the mono obviously not being from an original pressing but the summing of the channels on my amplifier). Though the mono is cohesive where the stereo is somewhat disjoint and empty, I find the space created by the stereo spread too beautiful to collapse into a single channel.

Vinyl Spotlight: Jutta Hipp with Zoot Sims (Blue Note 1530) UA Mono Pressing

  • United Artists mono reissue circa 1972-1975
  • “A DIVISION OF UNITED ARTISTS RECORDS, INC.” on both labels

Personnel:

  • Jerry Lloyd, trumpet
  • Zoot Sims, tenor saxophone
  • Jutta Hipp, piano
  • Ahmed Abdul-Malik, bass
  • Ed Thigpen, drums

Recorded July 28, 1956 at Van Gelder Studio, Hackensack, New Jersey
Originally released February 1957

1 Just Blues
2 Violets for Your Furs
3 Down Home
4 Almost Like Being in Love
5 Wee-Dot
6 Too Close for Comfort

For Collectors

This LP didn’t pique my interest until I saw an original pressing on the wall at an esteemed Manhattan record shop last fall. Though I was unfamiliar with the music, I knew of the record’s ‘holy grail’ status. Needless to say, I was intrigued. At this point in my time collecting I felt confident handling such an expensive piece, and when I removed the vinyl from the sleeve it was beautiful — Lexington Ave. labels, flat edge, deep groove, all the trimmings. When I got home later that evening I gave it a listen on Spotify and quickly realized how fun and animated the music was. Though I had never spent anywhere near the asking price on a record before, the thought that I may never see the record again eventually captivated my mind, so I arranged an in-store audition.

I set out with cash in hand, ready to make what I believed to be a respectable offer. When I got to the store, I took a more careful look at the record before it played. Visually it was beautiful with only some light scuffing. When side 1 began, the music sounded loud and present and I liked what I heard. The second song, the ballad “Violets for Your Furs”, was quieter though, and revealed light yet consistent surface noise. The owner said the record had been cleaned, which was a bit disconcerting in consideration of the noise I was hearing. I began listening more carefully, and by the time the needle got to trumpeter Jerry Lloyd’s solo on “Down Home”, the last song on the first side, the deal was dead, as inner groove distortion was evident. I thanked the owner for his time and left the shop a (much) wealthier person.

At this point I knew I loved the music, so I picked up the Classic Records reissue. It sounded great, but I still wanted to see if there was something I was missing out on that could only be provided by a younger, fresher master tape. So I sought out the copy you see here, an early ‘70s United Artists copy (technically the second ever pressing of the album). Ultimately, the master tape sounded similar with both pressings and I decided to keep the UA.

(Note: The following two paragraphs were updated June 2024.) At this point it is clear that at least some of these UA mono LPs were exported for sale in Japan, as many copies can still be found with Japanese “OBI” stickers. The common cut corners with these records signal either promotional use or discounted/no-returns status. Additionally, although these early ’70s Blue Note reissues are some of the earliest to not be mastered by Rudy Van Gelder, Liberty Records had begun using other mastering engineers as early as 1966. But who mastered many of these United Artists reissues remains a mystery.

Some of these US reissues are not sourced from the original tapes. According to Blue Note archivist Michael Cuscuna, United Artists would have been the first parent label to demand that Blue Note’s original master tapes be duplicated (sometimes with Dolby noise reduction) in the event that the tape was beginning to flake. (This is why original copies of classic Blue Note albums with Van Gelder mastering are so valuable: there is no debating that they were made using first generation tapes shortly after the recording sessions.) But this myriad of possibilities doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on the quality of this particular finished product, the results of which can be heard in the needledrops above.

For Music Lovers

To stand out in the testosterone-overrun world of instrumental jazz, it certainly didn’t hurt that German-born pianist Jutta (pronounced “Yoo-ta”) Hipp was a woman. That’s probably what esteemed jazz critic Leonard Feather was thinking in 1954 when he began nurturing the undiscovered talent. After hearing a friend’s recording of her, Feather booked studio time in Germany for the 29-year-old redheaded bopper (New Faces – New Sounds from Germany, Blue Note 5056), then arranged for Hipp to come to New York City in November 1955 for a residency at the Hickory House on East 52nd Street. The six-month stretch that followed proved quite an eventful time for the pianist. She was recorded on location by Blue Note in April (Jutta Hipp at the Hickory House, BLP 1515/6), and amongst the plethora of world-renowned jazz musicians whose acquaintance she had the pleasure of making, Hipp was reunited with tenor saxophonist Zoot Sims, whom she had originally jammed with on the Continent a few years back when Sims was on tour with bandleader Stan Kenton.

Hipp woud eventually be asked to assemble a combo for a Blue Note session at the label’s holy house of sound, engineer Rudy Van Gelder’s home recording studio in Hackensack, New Jersey. Sims would be recruited along with drummer Ed Thigpen, the backbone of Hipp’s Hickory House trio. Trumpeter Jerry Lloyd came along with Sims and bassist Ahmed Abdul-Malik entered the equation as well. Overseen by Alfred Lion, a fellow German native, the session commenced in late July 1956 and produced the entirety of the LP in a single day.

The band warmed up with a pair of ballads: the Matt Dennis-Tom Adair composition “Violets for Your Furs” (first recorded by Frank Sinatra two years prior), and the standard “These Foolish Things (Remind Me of You)”. The former took what was perhaps a nervous Hipp four takes to get through, and while the time constraints of the LP format wouldn’t allow the latter on to the original release, it would surface for the first time 40 years later along with George Gershwin’s “’S Wonderful” on the 1996 Connoisseur Series compact disc.

Sims and Hipp rehearsing at Van Gelder Studio

Hours later, by the time seven songs were laid to tape, the session was all but complete when Sims would have suggested the band riff on an up-tempo twelve-bar progression of his choosing. The result was “Just Blues”, and the track proved to be so much fun that it would later be chosen as the album’s opener. (In a review for All About Jazz, critic Chris M. Slawecki quipped, “Sims contributed the opening “Just Blues”, although he apparently couldn’t be bothered to title it,” which provokes the comical image of Lion turning to Sims for the title after the take with Sims shrugging and humbly replying, “Just blues.”)

The album would eventually make it to store shelves seven months later in February 1957. But by this time Hipp had mysteriously disappeared from the scene, and without star power to drive album sales, the sides wouldn’t be repressed until the glory days of hard bop were long over, rendering the original LP a figment to the vast majority of the jazz record collecting populous.

On first listen, the music here may sound a bit old-fashioned when held up to other cutting edge jazz albums recorded in 1956, but the consistently fun vibe of Jutta Hipp with Zoot Sims proves difficult to deny. Sims would assume the unofficial role of leader that day, bringing a playful, infectious energy to the studio, and Hipp rose to the occasion despite known confidence issues. Thigpen, who would go on to form one-third of the legendary Oscar Peterson Trio, provides a steady, driving rhythm throughout, putting the soloists in the zone with inspiring momentum on more upbeat tunes like “Just Blues”, Lloyd’s “Down Home” and the J.J. Johnson composition “Wee Dot”.

Drummer Ed Thigpen

The recording itself is one of Rudy Van Gelder’s finest. By 1956 the engineer had finally backed off the quirky artificial spring reverb that hinders many of his earliest recordings, allowing listeners to hear the natural ambience of the Hackensack living room in all its makeshift glory. Soft, warm cymbals also define Van Gelder’s sound during this period, giving the music a unique, almost cartoony character. For the finishing touch, Reid Miles provided some of his most iconic design: a colorful, modern jumble of rectangles primitively imitating the keys of a piano (the cover has proven so iconic it has found a home in the Museum of Modern Art in New York City).

Sadly, this was the last time Hipp would enter a recording studio. At some point the pianist became jaded by the music industry, retreating to Queens to work in a textile factory. She returned to her first creative passion, painting, and lived alone there until 2003 when she passed away due to terminal illness. There are only a few recordings of the German phenom to be heard as a result, and we should be grateful for this particular shining example of her talents.

Vinyl Spotlight: John Coltrane, Giant Steps (Atlantic 1311) Mono vs. Stereo Edition

  • Fifth mono pressing circa 1966
  • Orange & purple label
  • Box logo side 1; black fan logo side 2
  • Side 1/2 matrix: 11637-A “AT” / 11638-A “AT”

VERSUS!

  • Second stereo pressing circa 1960-1962
  • Green & blue label
  • Deep groove on both sides
  • White fan logo on both sides
  • Side 1/2 matrix: AVCO ST-A-59201 / AVCO ST-A-59202

Personnel:

All but “Naima”:

  • John Coltrane, tenor saxophone
  • Tommy Flanagan, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Art Taylor, drums

“Naima” only:

  • John Coltrane, tenor saxophone
  • Wynton Kelly, piano
  • Paul Chambers, bass
  • Jimmy Cobb, drums

All but “Naima” recorded May 4-5, 1959; “Naima” recorded December 2, 1959
All selections recorded at Atlantic Records’ 56th Street studio, NYC
Originally released January 1960

1 Giant Steps
2 Cousin Mary
3 Countdown
4 Spiral
5 Syeeda’s Song Flute
6 Naima
7 Mr. P.C.
Behold! Deep Groove Mono offers up its first ever head-to-head comparison. Here we take a listen to vintage mono and stereo pressings of the classic John Coltrane album Giant Steps. I had the mono LP first, but I liked the original stereo CD so much that when I saw this stereo LP for a great price I couldn’t pass it up.

Tom Dowd

Giant Steps was recorded at Atlantic’s infamous 56th Street “office studio” under the supervision of legendary recording engineer Tom Dowd. According to the album’s liner notes, it was recorded to an Ampex 300-8R eight-track tape recorder, the results of which are two distinct i.e. ‘dedicated’ mixes, meaning the mono mix is not a ‘fold-down’.

The mono: Coltrane is front and center in this dark, bass-y mix. Trane and pianist Tommy Flanagan sit in good relationship to each other, though Paul Chambers’ bass doesn’t have a whole lot of definition, and Art Taylor’s drums get a bit buried behind Coltrane’s screaming presence.

The stereo: No instruments are presented center here, which for better or worse takes something away from Trane’s presence. (I doubt that Dowd was not yet privy to the theory of the ‘phantom center image’, and I can’t help but wonder why he was still not utilizing the center at this time.) Chambers’ bass still lacks good definition, though the spread gives Taylor more room to cut through. My first version of this album was the original 1990 stereo CD and I always appreciated how well I could hear the nuances in Taylor’s drumming in the stereo mix (I especially love the detail of the ride cymbal).

Head-to-head: On speakers, both mixes sound quite full, but in headphones the stereo version’s wide spread and its emphasis on the bass and treble leaves the mono feeling quite thin. However, Coltrane commands more presence in the mono mix, not only because he has been shifted from the far left to the center, but the mono also seems to favor the midrange, where the saxophone’s timbre is largely defined. This is probably why I feel that Coltrane sounds a bit muffled in the stereo mix when compared to the mono.

The verdict: Through speakers, both mixes sound great to me and I’d be happy to own either copy if I didn’t have a choice. But while I can only assume that most die-hard Coltrane fans will prefer the leader’s stronger presence in the mono mix, I personally love hearing all the nuances of Taylor’s kit in the stereo mix through headphones, which is probably why this is my favorite listening experience overall.

To play us out, I have included “Naima” as an added bonus because it is simply one of my favorite ballads of all-time. I chose the mono version because I find that the tune’s sparse composition works better without all the ‘empty space’ inherent in the stereo mix.

How They Heard It: Blue Note Records and the Transition from Mono to Stereo

Several years ago, when I first became a collector of vintage jazz records, I was confused. Original mono copies of albums from Blue Note’s classic catalog were significantly more expensive than their stereo counterparts, yet virtually all the talk online was of the original “stereo” master tapes for these sessions. Why then were the mono copies so much more valuable than the stereo copies if the albums were recorded to two-track tape?

I set out to find the answer, and soon discovered that there was a good amount of misunderstanding amongst audiophiles and record collectors regarding the methods of Blue Note’s exclusive recording and mastering engineer, Rudy Van Gelder. Realizing how historically and culturally important these recordings are, I decided to make a more formal study of the issue, and the results were published on the London Jazz Collector website in July of this year.

Shortly after publishing, I decided that the article could be made much more efficient, and last month London Jazz Collector published the revised version of the article. The new version is more concise and hopefully easier to understand. Click on the link below to check it out!