Explaining Your Favorite Record Isn't Easy
Especially When The Appeal Is Becoming More Selective
It’s a perfect storm of gratitude, pride, and excitement today: Yes’s Relayer joins the Rhino Hi-Fidelity family, and writing the liner notes for this record has been a peak experience. Thanks to the Rhino team for the opportunity. A huge thank you to Patrick Moraz and his wife Phyllis for their generosity with time. Biggest thanks of all to Yes for making a record that inspired millions of others and me—then and now.
The music always comes first, but I have to say it’s been a thrilling time for me. Last week, I had the honor of having my liner notes included in the Tone Poet edition of Wayne Shorter’s Odyssey of Iska for Blue Note Records. This follows on the heels of my notes for the Super Deluxe Edition of Yes’s iconic Fragile, also from Rhino.
I talked about Yes’s Fragile in a previous post. It was a key gateway record into a lifelong, deep appreciation of Yes, solidifying them as my favorite rock band of all time. It’s also an album on many people’s shelves, and it’s inspiring to hear their stories and experiences about how they discovered it. Fragile has earned its place in the pantheon of classic rock records and remains poised for discovery by new ears for generations to come.
Yes’s Relayer is an entirely different beast in the Yes catalog. As is Odyssey of Iska in Wayne Shorter’s discography. While these two records are NOTHING alike musically, they share similar statuses within their respective fan bases. They’re considered “insider’s records” that attract a particular group of enthusiasts in the fan and/or critic community. That exclusive club may be modest in size, but they make up for it with enthusiasm. You're in for a long conversation once you get an Odyssey of Iska fanatic talking about its charms or a Relayer loyalist describing how that record changed their life.
I’m fascinated by records that have developed a reputation for appealing to enthusiasts/connoisseurs over more casual fans. How does this come to pass? Is the album SO different or inconsistent with the artists’ history that fans are disappointed, baffled, or even angry? Does early negativity or criticism become infectious? And once that lore spreads, does the wet cement of lore harden into fact—so much so that even the artist, manager, or label starts to drink that Kool-Aid?
Reissue platforms like Blue Note’s Tone Poet series and Rhino High Fidelity do a stellar job with both sound and vision, leveraging superb mastering from Kevin Gray and top-shelf jackets from Spark. However, that’s not their only aim—the A&R teams pick a balance of titles that consider fan demand and opportunities to give “connoisseurs' records” another day in court. A chance for existing and new fans to hear them with fresh ears and context. Jaco Pastorius's Word of Mouth and Andrew Hill’s Passing Ships deserved (and received) another “at bat.” They won’t catch up to decades of critical and commercial acclaim enjoyed by other records in their respective artists’ discography. But these recent reissue reprent a refusal to allow years of accumulated Internet nonsense to control the narrative. Undeserved dismissal, dopey fan-community commentary, and ill-informed armchair music journalism shouldn’t prevent casual fans from taking a taste.
When I was a kid, you couldn’t pay me enough to eat Brussels sprouts, string beans, or lima beans. You know, the kind of little kid food fussies that, in most cases, wouldn’t make anyone bat an eye. But I turned picky eating into high art, extending my “no-fly list” to include almost anything that grew in the ground or swam in the ocean. For starters. I was a legendary picky eater. The tsuris—a Yiddish expression for a type of cosmic heartburn that Jewish grandmothers get from persistent worry—sent my Grandma Helen into a tailspin whenever she’d visit. If I opened my mouth to say something at the dinner table instead of eating, I might suddenly and instantly lose my entire body weight and evaporate. Then, I would never get into a good college. And, by extension, a good law and/or medical school. If it weren’t for my mother’s patience, creative (and excellent) cooking skills, and Rice-a-Roni, Grandma Helen’s tsuris fever dreams might have come true. However, I did disappoint her on the law/medical school front.
People grow, and tastes change. Brussels sprouts, asparagus, broccoli, fish, and all sorts of foods that would have made me gag back in the day are now on the menu. A few have even become favorites. Somewhere, Grandma Helen is smiling.
I’m not suggesting that anyone’s experience with Relayer or Odyssey of Iska is invalid or that purchasing and listening to a new edition will be an instant game-changer. These new reissues will delight you if you already know and love these albums. If, however, you’ve only heard about them rather than actually heard them, or only know them by reputation or what you’ve read on the Internet, this is an opportunity. If a previous experience with this music left you cold, confused, or uninterested, a fresh listen of the best-sounding, best-looking vinyl release to date may change your mind. Both of these records were already special to me when I was approached to write liner notes that would add context to inform, enlighten, and make them special to others. I hope I’ve succeded. In both cases, a deep dive into records I thought I already knew revealed even more to be discovered, and deepend my engagement with music I love even more.
I hope both Relayer and Odyssey of Iska have an opportunity for re-evaluation in a new era. They’re albums that have spoken for eons to members of an anonymous collective who REALLY get those records on a whole other level. The Relayer Order of the Phoenix. The Fellowship of the Odyssey of Iska. An inner circle who knows the secret handshakes because when it comes to those records, THEY KNOW that whatever online reputation that’s festered based on previously held biases won’t hold up.
I’ve got more liner notes in the pipeline, and more stories and reviews to publish here too—stay tuned!
Waiting for a flight and your post caused me to start listening to Odyssey of Iska. Pretty good bet that I'm the only person at the airport listening to this, or Shorter in general. Wind fits the Monday morning people watching vibe quite well.
OM fucking G do I love Odyssey of Iska. There is NOTHING in the jazz literature like it before or since. Wayne was just sui generis, and the music of the last 60 years wouldn’t have been remotely like what it is if there had been no Wayne.