Revinylized!

John Coltrane's Impulse! Records period is often lionized as the zenith of his artistic legacy. Crescent, A Love Supreme, and Sun Ship are the culmination of his post-bop ascent, while his final Impulse! recordings, including Ascension, Interstellar Space, Expression, and Stellar Regions, pushed further still.

Joe Jackson, the veteran British pianist/vocalist, insists on a certain level of sound quality, which can be traced all the way back to his 1979 A&M debut album, Look Sharp! His five-decade-long career has covered a vast repertoire, and along the way, he's stuck in a few allusions to previous work.

Hard rock in the 1970s was mostly a game for dudes. Although Janis Joplin and Grace Slick had broken through in the 1960s with major rock hits, Coven lead singer Jinx Dawson had gained some notoriety, and Fanny (one of the first all-female rock bands) had some success, the rock charts were male dominated. Enter the Wilson sisters, Ann and Nancy.

As the jazz buyer for Tower Records's Lincoln Center (66th St.) location in the early 1990s, I held a unique vantage point on New York City, its music and culture. My position guaranteed daily encounters with an eclectic variety of unforgettable characters. Between regular visits by the likes of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (grouchy), Kathleen Turner (pushy), and Michael J. Fox (perpetually running from the store's female staff), I saw a lot.

Punk rock was never meant to grow old. For their first three studio efforts, The Replacements epitomized the punk ethos. Sorry Ma, Forgot to Take Out the Trash (1981), the EP Stink (1982), and Hootenanny (1983) are loud, bashy fun.

In 1979, I was the road drummer for Boston singer-songwriter Andy Pratt, a local celebrity known for his musical talent—showcased on his 1973 Columbia album Andy Pratt . . . I was part of the touring band for Pratt's Motives album, performing regional hits like "That's When Miracles Occur," a standout track from his 1976 breakthrough, Resolution.

Way back in my ignorant youth I thought that Pablo Records, the label of jazz producer/promoter legend Norman Granz, was where jazz artists went to fade away, where they were put out to pasture. I thought the black discs inside Pablo's black-and-white jackets, which depicted jazz greats tracking sessions in their twilight years, couldn't compete with the music of younger jazz guns.