Records To Die For

It was October 1990 and Richard Lehnert, at that time Stereophile's music editor, buttonholed me in our office parking lot. He had an idea for a new feature in which, instead of recommending audio components, which we had been doing since the first edition of Recommended Components in 1963, we should do the same for music. "Rather than a selection of all-time (or year's) best recorded performances—which are common enough—or a list of audiophile reference recordings—common enough in the audiophile press, at any rate," he said, "this would be a list of stereo recordings that are both musically and sonically impeccable. In other words, the best, the tops, to die for."

It took me less than a New York minute to sign off on Richard's idea. We asked the magazine's audio and music writers each to name two of their favorite albums of all time—albums that were, to them, "to die for."

As I was preparing our annual Records to Die For feature for 2021, in the midst of the COVID-19 pandemic, it occurred to me that at such a moment, "Records to Die For" didn't evoke the same feelings it once did. That name—for what has become Stereophile's most popular feature—had started out light-hearted, derived from a 1980s pop-culture idiom, which eventually found expression in several book and movie titles as well as at least one Death-Metal band. In late 1990, as the 1991 feature was being prepared, it didn't seem so light-hearted at a time of so much death and suffering. At such times, music is a salve, a source of encouragement, perhaps even a means for survival. Records to Die For officially became Records to Live For.

Today—knock on wood—the worst of COVID well behind us, the new designation seems exactly right. This feature is all about music that inspires, that makes life rich—that gives us a reason to live, in times troubled and joyous. These are records that, if you knew you didn't have that much time left, you'd be eager to hear one last time. At least.

Once each year, since 1991, we've asked our writers, both hi-fi and music, to name two of their favorite albums of all time—albums that are, to them, "to die for." It has long been one of our most popular features.

Originally a light-hearted conceit based on a phrase that was popular at the time, there never was a real implication that anyone would give up their life for this music. Yet, for many of us, it has always carried that baggage. So, while this has long been my favorite Stereophile feature, I've never cared for the name.

Records To Live For! In an ordinary year, the name of this annual feature, published every February since 1991, is a harmless, even amusing joke. In last year's opening essay, I evoked a heavily armed intruder perusing your record collection late at night and holding your favorite record in his hands: Would you risk your life by confronting him? That's hardly the first time that an author of the R2D4 lead essay made a joke about possibly dying.

It's 3am. You're lying in bed. Something woke you up—you don't know what it was. You pull back the covers, get up, and tiptoe out to your listening room.

There, standing by your record rack, thumbing through your prized LPs, is a man in black (no, not Johnny Cash—a different man in black). You see a bulge in his pocket; it could be a gun. Something shiny catches your eye—there's a switchblade knife between his teeth! At his feet, leaning against your record shelf, is a cudgel. Oh, and it looks like he might have some infectious disease. You, of course, are in your PJs.

You notice, at the top of the stack of records that he holds under his arm, that one record, the one you love the most, the one you can't live without.

What's your favorite record? It's a simple enough question, but one that dedicated music consumers never tire of asking each other. And so, every year, we ask the distinguished writing staff of this magazine to choose a pair of favorites and tell us a little of what seems so compelling about them. Music in any recorded format is fair game, the only restriction being that it must still be available, if only in the deep, dark recesses of the Internet. Of course, favorites come and go in minds and hearts—speaking of dark recesses—but these are Stereophile's takes on the essential music of the moment.

Never in the history of our venerable "Records To Die For" feature has the word Die come to mean as much as it has in the past year. Merle Haggard, Phife Dawg, Rudy Van Gelder, Maurice White, Glenn Frey, Otis Clay, Blowfly, Bob Cranshaw, George Martin, Steve Young, Chips Moman, Lonnie Mack, Prince, Leonard Cohen, Sharon Jones, Leon Russell, Ralph Stanley, David Bowie—all died in the past year. So to drive away any evil spirits that may be hovering over this year's R2D4 extravaganza, we may need to think of this 2017 installment more as "Records to Live For."