How Not to Collect LPs
I was impulsive, when I should have exercised caution. Naturally, I’ve learned an important record collecting lesson I thought I had already mastered: When bidding on records on eBay, steer clear of sellers who offer vague descriptions of their goods, particularly if it appears these sellers rarely deal in the vinyl trade. Even if it seems like a good deal. Especially when it seems like a good deal. And especially when the item is minutes from closing and no one’s bid on it. Do so and you just might end up like I did, winning two collectible jazz records, one Coltrane, one Yusef Lateef. Records that, in spite of their descriptions, were all beat to hell and warped, with covers that were advertised as being in “great” condition, but instead had split seams, peeling lamination, mildew stains, and bent corners. Records that set me back about $45 with shipping.
I should have known better; I’ve been collecting records for more than two decades. I know when so-called “rare” records are priced too high, or too low. I know what to look for when examining LPs—how to find a seemingly undetectable warp when the shop won’t let you spin the record on their turntable. And I’m particularly suspicious of used records with a sticker that says “clean.” Just last week, I picked up a “clean” original copy of the Sonics’ 1966 LP Boom at a popular Seattle vinyl outlet; upon close examination, I saw that it was scored with all kinds of hairline scratches. Not surprising, the shop was asking a near-mint price ($225) for a VG record worth maybe $75. I swiftly returned the record to the altar of rarities—the display shelves high above the more common LPs, where all the other overpriced records wait for someone foolish or wealthy enough to grant them salvation from their predicament as precious pop-music artifacts.
What does this have to do with getting ripped off on eBay? I’ll get there, eventually.
For Christmas, I was given a copy of Ashley Kahn’s The House that Trane Built: The Story of Impulse Records (WW Norton, 2006). I’m a big fan of John Coltrane and Impulse Records. When I started collecting jazz LPs about 12 years ago, I began with John Coltrane. No baby steps with Brubeck or Kind of Blue, but straight to A Love Supreme, which I bought as a brand-new reissue, a faithful reproduction (gatefold and all) of the awesome original. I’ve picked up plenty more Impulse Records over the years, on those rare occasions when a record store isn’t charging a small fortune for a well-loved (er, slightly trashed) copy or in the even rarer instance an Impulse LP turns up at a thrift store. I found VG++ to NM original pressings of Coltrane’s Ascension (in mono) and Tom Scott’s Rural Still Life at thrift stores. Reading Kahn’s thorough and detailed portrait of Impulse, its players—from producers Creed Taylor and Bob Thiele to blowers like Coltrane, Sanders, Shepp and Ayler—and all the brilliant avant-garde jazz records it produced rekindled the collector in me. I got all swept up in the Impulse mystique, the mind-blowing music, the trademark orange-and-black spines. The only thing to do: fatten my Impulse collection.
That’s when I got impulsive.
Last week, I had my eye on 40 Impulse LPs on eBay. But as the auctions drew to a close, most of the LPs were bid up way beyond my budget (which wasn’t surprising—a mint first pressing of A Love Supreme is worth several hundred dollars). Jazz collectors know what they’re worth, which is why I only own about 25 Impulse LPs. However, to my surprise, three records I was watching had no bids and ridiculously low starting prices: Art Blakey and His Jazz Messengers, John Coltrane Quartet Africa/Brass and Yusef Lateef The Golden Flute, the latter of which I already owned, but the price was too good to pass up. All were being auctioned by the same seller. All three were original pressings. And yet all three had vague descriptions, like “great condition, but some wear” or “the cover looks great, the record plays well.” Missing, though, was your typical used record jargon: “slight ring wear,” “no seam splits” or “spidering,” “VG++.” Because all three auctions were about to close, there wasn’t time to quiz the seller further about the conditions of his records. So I bid on them—and won two.
Three days later, as I opened the box containing my new acquisitions, my excitement gave way to disappointment. Disappointment in the items. Disappointment in the seller. Disappointment in myself. The Coltrane record was trashed. The description said “has some wear”; in actuality, it was worn out, as if someone had sanded the record. I put it on just to hear how poorly it sounded only to discover it was warped, too! Meanwhile, the Yusef Lateef was in better condition than I expected—though the cover was not in “great condition”—it was a weak VG-. The record looked pretty “clean.” Playing it revealed audible wear (probably from a bad needle) and a significant warp.
Next time, I’ll ignore my impulses, if not Impulse Records. What works for musicians doesn’t work for collectors of their records. I’m just glad I didn’t win the Art Blakey LP.
Never judge a record by its cover (or photo of its cover): The above photo of John Coltrane Quartet Africa/Brass is of the record I won--and is the actual photo posted in the eBay listing.
I was impulsive, when I should have exercised caution. Naturally, I’ve learned an important record collecting lesson I thought I had already mastered: When bidding on records on eBay, steer clear of sellers who offer vague descriptions of their goods, particularly if it appears these sellers rarely deal in the vinyl trade. Even if it seems like a good deal. Especially when it seems like a good deal. And especially when the item is minutes from closing and no one’s bid on it. Do so and you just might end up like I did, winning two collectible jazz records, one Coltrane, one Yusef Lateef. Records that, in spite of their descriptions, were all beat to hell and warped, with covers that were advertised as being in “great” condition, but instead had split seams, peeling lamination, mildew stains, and bent corners. Records that set me back about $45 with shipping.
I should have known better; I’ve been collecting records for more than two decades. I know when so-called “rare” records are priced too high, or too low. I know what to look for when examining LPs—how to find a seemingly undetectable warp when the shop won’t let you spin the record on their turntable. And I’m particularly suspicious of used records with a sticker that says “clean.” Just last week, I picked up a “clean” original copy of the Sonics’ 1966 LP Boom at a popular Seattle vinyl outlet; upon close examination, I saw that it was scored with all kinds of hairline scratches. Not surprising, the shop was asking a near-mint price ($225) for a VG record worth maybe $75. I swiftly returned the record to the altar of rarities—the display shelves high above the more common LPs, where all the other overpriced records wait for someone foolish or wealthy enough to grant them salvation from their predicament as precious pop-music artifacts.
What does this have to do with getting ripped off on eBay? I’ll get there, eventually.
For Christmas, I was given a copy of Ashley Kahn’s The House that Trane Built: The Story of Impulse Records (WW Norton, 2006). I’m a big fan of John Coltrane and Impulse Records. When I started collecting jazz LPs about 12 years ago, I began with John Coltrane. No baby steps with Brubeck or Kind of Blue, but straight to A Love Supreme, which I bought as a brand-new reissue, a faithful reproduction (gatefold and all) of the awesome original. I’ve picked up plenty more Impulse Records over the years, on those rare occasions when a record store isn’t charging a small fortune for a well-loved (er, slightly trashed) copy or in the even rarer instance an Impulse LP turns up at a thrift store. I found VG++ to NM original pressings of Coltrane’s Ascension (in mono) and Tom Scott’s Rural Still Life at thrift stores. Reading Kahn’s thorough and detailed portrait of Impulse, its players—from producers Creed Taylor and Bob Thiele to blowers like Coltrane, Sanders, Shepp and Ayler—and all the brilliant avant-garde jazz records it produced rekindled the collector in me. I got all swept up in the Impulse mystique, the mind-blowing music, the trademark orange-and-black spines. The only thing to do: fatten my Impulse collection.
That’s when I got impulsive.
Last week, I had my eye on 40 Impulse LPs on eBay. But as the auctions drew to a close, most of the LPs were bid up way beyond my budget (which wasn’t surprising—a mint first pressing of A Love Supreme is worth several hundred dollars). Jazz collectors know what they’re worth, which is why I only own about 25 Impulse LPs. However, to my surprise, three records I was watching had no bids and ridiculously low starting prices: Art Blakey and His Jazz Messengers, John Coltrane Quartet Africa/Brass and Yusef Lateef The Golden Flute, the latter of which I already owned, but the price was too good to pass up. All were being auctioned by the same seller. All three were original pressings. And yet all three had vague descriptions, like “great condition, but some wear” or “the cover looks great, the record plays well.” Missing, though, was your typical used record jargon: “slight ring wear,” “no seam splits” or “spidering,” “VG++.” Because all three auctions were about to close, there wasn’t time to quiz the seller further about the conditions of his records. So I bid on them—and won two.
Three days later, as I opened the box containing my new acquisitions, my excitement gave way to disappointment. Disappointment in the items. Disappointment in the seller. Disappointment in myself. The Coltrane record was trashed. The description said “has some wear”; in actuality, it was worn out, as if someone had sanded the record. I put it on just to hear how poorly it sounded only to discover it was warped, too! Meanwhile, the Yusef Lateef was in better condition than I expected—though the cover was not in “great condition”—it was a weak VG-. The record looked pretty “clean.” Playing it revealed audible wear (probably from a bad needle) and a significant warp.
Next time, I’ll ignore my impulses, if not Impulse Records. What works for musicians doesn’t work for collectors of their records. I’m just glad I didn’t win the Art Blakey LP.
Never judge a record by its cover (or photo of its cover): The above photo of John Coltrane Quartet Africa/Brass is of the record I won--and is the actual photo posted in the eBay listing.
