Is Dire Straits any better? A bit of cereal, but it sounds much better. This is a pretty good copy.

I am happy to report that “Sultans of Swing” is simply glorious on this medium, as is the rest of the album. Years of accrued cereal on this copy, but it has a lovely analog feel.

“In the Gallery” has a funky playfulness. The guitar on the right — David Knopfler, I assume — is so cool, just propelling the story with a bright and attentive voice. Lovely. Mark is doing his solo thing, also cool, but darker than what David is doing.

Side B is a love song to London and all quite wonderful. “Wild West End” is fun, a celebration of everything that goes on in one of my favourite parts of London. “Lions” ends the album with a bit of guitar conversation.

Downloaded new hi-res FLACs of Kamakiriad, and I have to say: one, I am not sure when I last listened to this album, and two, I am sure I have never heard it sound as good as it does on the current system. If I have not mentioned it lately — I love the system I put together.

“Snowbound” is so alive, so three-dimensional. God, it sounds lovely. I thought I had heard this song before.

I had. Back near the end of my PhD I was seeing someone — loosely, and we both understood it that way, since I would be moving to Macon in a few months. One night we were playing tunes on my Adcom/Paradigm system and she wanted me to hear one of her favourites, which turned out to be The Cure’s “Love Cats,” a super-annoying song, I am sure you will agree. I said yeah, I like it, and she was not convinced. Later it was my turn to be stabbed: I put on “Snowbound,” and within thirty seconds she was scowling and shaking her head in disgust and disbelief. I think that is the moment I knew it was over. You don’t fuck with the Fagen.

“Florida Room” is like taking a walk in the Keys. Everything is weird and wonderful on the walk, like they are on a drug that makes everything look like life in a Florida room. And the horn run. Perfect. It may be blasphemy, but I may like this album a tad more than The Nightfly. Is that nuts? “I keep drifting back to your Florida room.” To your Florida room — your perspective, perhaps, or something more intimate.

Is this album a journey through a life? Is the Florida room retirement — older people chasing the warmth of their youthful summers? You get some warmth, but it is going to be a bit freaky. Then you end up “On the Dunes,” decidedly melancholy and maudlin, the retiree feeling sorry for himself. But it sounds beautiful. He is still in one of the most beautiful places in the world; “pretty rough,” he might say, sarcastically, which would not be atypical. And then we watch the sun set into the ocean for the last three minutes. Glorious. This poor lonely guy. He is the same guy in “The Things I Miss the Most.”

Fortunately there is a party around the bend, down the road, near the love shack: “Teahouse on the Tracks.” A final destination, a place we will all meet at the end of the street — though not for everyone, just the hipsters, or those who enjoy the journey. And how cool is a song with a trombone solo?

Back in grad school I taught a contemporary lit course when a lot of people were experimenting with multimodal texts. I thought about teaching Kamakiriad as a work of fiction. That would have been fun, though I wonder whether I would have got some looks for it.

Genesis’ Abacab on the record I bought in Chattanooga. It sounds pretty good — the engineering, and not a lot of cereal. Some, but not distracting.

“Me and Sarah Jane” has some pretty distinct cereal, even a skip maybe. Really a lot of it by the time we get to “Keep It Dark.” This may not have been played in a while. Still, a good first side.

“Who Dunnit?” is a shit song. Sorry, guys.

“Lonely Man” has a lot of cereal. I am hoping that after this first play it won’t be as prevalent. It skips a couple of times too. Poo. A bad scratch at the end almost ruins the song. Dang it. And it gets worse into the next one, skipping quite a bit.

Bill Evans’ Waltz for Debby on my 180g purple vinyl, and it sounds goddamn glorious with the new stylus.

The stylus came in and I installed it easily, and Chuck Mangione sounds good — though I think it jumped a couple of grooves during “Feels So Good.” Could that mean I need more weight on the front? I think it might be the extra thickness of the new acrylic mat.

More Christian McBride. Gettin’ to It is a diverse album and a lot of fun. Probably my favourite McBride.

What is it about Lee Morgan that demands my attention? Here I am casually listening to one of the greatest albums of all time — “I’m Old Fashioned” is on, Morgan’s solo comes last, and my head snaps up from what I am doing.

Whereas Miles is wispier, smoother, Morgan is stout and defiant. All right, both are defiant, which is one of the things I love about MD. But Morgan’s tone runs bright and almost flamboyant, where Davis’ is darker, more somber.

So: Coverdale/Page, which Kip called “actually quite good.”

Well — “Shake My Tree” was pretty good, with a groove reminiscent of “Nobody’s Fault.” I am not a fan of Coverdale’s voice, I must admit; too eighties-big-hair for me. Also, were songs longer in 1993? “I’m Waiting on You” got redundant and fatiguing.

This sounds like a parody of eighties hard rock. It is Jimmy Page’s last chance to hit the highs of the Zeppelin days. Too harsh? Maybe. But none of it is very memorable — except perhaps “Shake My Tree.” “Take Me for a Little While” is a truly sappy power ballad, or else the parody of one.

My copy of Selling England by the Pound sounds absolutely terrible. I can barely hear the drums. Cottony and soft, and volume did not help. My FLAC files are so much better. Luck of the draw, I suppose. I can’t have three jamming days with vinyl in a row, can I? Well — maybe I can. It may be time to open a new record.

Oh, yes. This is how “Firth of Fifth” is supposed to sound. Genesis is best when they get their prog thing on: what would be a three-minute song for any other band is a ten-minute banger here. And Hackett’s solo section is just great — what a mood he paints atop Rutherford’s driving bass line. I do wish the drums were further forward in the mix.

Tonight is The Dream of the Blue Turtles, and it sounds really good. I didn’t buy this when it came out; it took Nothing Like the Sun to really turn me on to Sting, and then I went back and discovered both the Police and Dream. What a trip.

I have never been a fan of the opening song, even when it first came out, which may be what kept me away from the album in the first place. It is a pop song, and that is about it. Not terrible, but nothing special. “Love Is the Seventh Wave” is not only better, it is more fun. “Russians” is certainly a product of the Cold War, but it is a strong song — borrowing from Prokofiev, I think. Hard to imagine now, but it seems things were not quite as grim then, despite the mood of the time and this song. Here is Sting being political.

I was pretty psyched to hear Outrider on vinyl. Side one is good, the highlights being the instrumentals and “Wanna Make Love,” where Page does some cool crashes and bends. Plant’s tune is probably my least favourite. The engineering is all right; it seems clearer on the instrumentals, with the drums brought a bit further forward.

Side B, though, is what this album is about. It opens with “Hummingbird,” a bluesy love song that both Page and Farlowe nail. “Emerald Eyes” is nice, warming us up for the wonderfully nasty “Prison Blues” — again all about the Farlowe/Page performance. Gritty and dirty and I love it, especially through my system. The closing “Blues Anthem” is a stunner. I always forget about the orchestra on that one, but it is a beautiful song. Another love song, though maybe more about loving the blues than loving any person.

It actually sounds much better. There is still some cereal, but far less after cleaning it about ten times.

This album sounds alive, man, and it does feel good. How could some asshole ever make an album, call it Feels So Good, and release a shitty recording? I love this stuff. I see a direct connection from Mangione to Steely Dan — not thematically, LOL, but certainly musically. That wah-wah guitar. That ride cymbal. That bass riff. And of course that flugelhorn. I know that makes me white and nerdy. No apologies. I am pretty sure I have never heard a flugelhorn sound I like as much as his: the tone and the precision are spot-on, and he still makes it sound white-cool, the rhythm section tempering it all into something easy and groovy.

The presentation from the Cliffwood and the Grado is spot-on tonight — at least for this record. “Maui Waui” is totally cool and cheesy, like a wind through the palm trees at a mid-seventies yacht club. It ambles and ends where it begins. Mellow. Everyone is smiling, probably because they are all drinking the same punch. There is a flute solo and a great deal else happens before we get any flugelhorn at all. The guitar in the left channel punctuates the whole song, making comments throughout. Then the horn enters and soars and the song’s peregrination pauses for a time. Everyone gets a solo. Beauty.

Shit — Mangione played and wrote for Art Blakey. How cool is that? I would not mind finding a nice copy of Buttercorn Lady on vinyl.

After side A of Pretzel Logic, on went Peter Gabriel’s i/o — a brand new record, and one I had not heard yet. There seems to be a scratch on side A. What?

“Panopticom” sounds good, definitely different on vinyl. Not really thrilling. As “Playing for Time” starts I can hear the scratch, the needle going over it every revolution, and by the middle of the song it is very evident.

Well, double-fuck on me tonight.

Side one, and the cereal has to settle before anything can be judged. (That’s my word for crackle-and-pops now — get it?) Once it does, “Rikki Don’t Lose That Number” comes up sounding good. It has never been my favorite Steely Dan song, but it’s a good opener and it does the job.

By the start of “Night by Night” the cereal has mostly stood down, though the occasional pop still lands. What doesn’t stand down is the engineering: muffled, like a softer image through a vintage lens. Good soundstage — wide, properly placed — but not the treble sparkle I want.

“Any Major Dude Will Tell You” [“SD” throughout the original; expanded here for the reader’s benefit —Ed.] is one of my all-time favorite SD songs, and it does sound livelier here. Still missing something up top, though. Thick, and a little smeared.

Well, that sucks. Maybe this record has just been played a lot. That’s the thing about a used pressing: you can’t tell whether you’re hearing 1974, the plant that stamped it, or forty years of somebody else’s stylus. Whatever the cause, this copy doesn’t do what Gaucho does, and that’s the same band six years on.

Six records out of Fresh Produce this afternoon, and a hundred-pack of BCW outer sleeves, which tells you something about where this is heading. The shelf has gotten big enough that I am now spending money to protect the records, not just buy them. That is a threshold of some kind.

Two more Tull came home: this one at ten dollars and Crest of a Knave at twelve. Songs from the Wood I am happy about — it is the front end of the folk-rock trilogy, so now it sits beside Heavy Horses and I am only missing Stormwatch to have the whole run.

Tonight, then, Tull. Quite a bit of crackle-and-hiss at the outset. Ugh. But as the title track played it cleared up and started sounding really good — better than Heavy Horses, I think. The tambourines are sharp, and so is Anderson’s acoustic. The drums have more presence. “Songs from the Wood” is just a great song.

Big soundstage on “Jack-in-the-Green.” The rest of side one sounded pretty good. “Ring Out, Solstice Bells” is cooler than I remember.

Side B tomorrow — Autumn and I spent the rest of the night on season two of The Pitt.

Darlene Fairbanks introduced me to this album back in the late eighties, when Jethro Tull was having a bit of a Renaissance in Cincinnati. All right — at least at my house. I was digging Rock Island after hearing “Undressed to Kill” on the radio and buying the record.

This one sounds even more analog. “The Mouse Police Never Sleeps” is good, but “Acres Wild” is where it starts sounding better to me — a live sound, and great separation. Anderson’s voice is a bit recessed, which is a shame; his vocal acrobatics are a big part of what I enjoy about Tull. There is a mandolin in the right channel. This is a minstrel song.

Side B is the best side, I must say. All of it is excellent, starting with “Rover.” What is better than Anderson belting out “because I’m a rover”? Then back to the minstrel acoustic stuff with “One Brown Mouse” — very much like “Moths,” though it brings in some electric guitar. Martin Barre always reminds us that Tull is a rock band.

And of course the epic, the prog: “Heavy Horses.” Great song. Heavy song. Not only does it sound better than anything else here, I can hear Anderson singing at least three parts, probably more. There are strings. It should be longer. I need more “Heavy Horses” — which I think was rather the point.

“Weathercock” is a lovely end to this bucolic stroll with the rockin’ Renaissance minstrels. Typically Tull: an acoustic frolic, then the flute arrives for a little naughty sauciness. A good Barre solo later. Solid end.

I don’t think I started appreciating the album’s characteristic engineering until the very end. I would like more detail and separation, and that is not what we got here — it is more of a twirl, a broad paint stroke, an impressionistic sound. I don’t know. Maybe I’m talking out of my ass.

Side B tonight, and it sounds great. Minimal crackle-pop, though there is a little. Rich, with a good soundstage. Pop Pop would be wonderful on vinyl — that goes on the wish list.

“Coolsville” is a moody song. So cool. Such a vibe. “Weasel and the White Boys Cool” really shows off the system: a minimal ensemble placed right across a wide soundstage. She has a fine selection of musicians on this record — how did that happen on a first album? Jeff Porcaro and Steve Gadd? Michael McDonald? I have to admit I did not hear him, but I will be on the listenout next time.

Picked this up in Venice at Salty Dog. The volume is the same as it was last night for Rush. The drums, like the Rush, are muted for me, which is a shame. In fact the whole album sounds a bit anemic, even at volume. It sounds good; I want it to sound better than it does. And this is such a good record — the whole first side is a no-skip.

The guitar-and-drum break in “Chain Reaction” sounded pretty good. But back to the original complaint: why don’t these engineers in the eighties know how to mic these drum gods? Neil Peart and Steve Smith deserve better. What other drummers am I going to end up adding to that list? Steve Perry’s vocals sound good, too, on “After the Fall.”

Some crackle-and-pop on this copy, especially side B, but it seems to be in decent shape. Really, the whole thing does sound a bit gauzy. The drums should be bigger in “Faithfully.” The bass needs help too — it is buried in the mix.

When playing Rush on vinyl one must attenuate a bit more. I thought A Farewell to Kings sounded dull and lifeless until I turned it up — and suddenly, there it was. Had I ever heard “Cinderella Man” sound this good? Geddy and Alex are tearing it up in the middle of that song.

I can’t express how much I enjoyed “Cygnus X-1.” This song rocks, and the story premise is epic.

Today in the Cliffwood is Duke Ellington’s Greatest Hits, a gift from Autumn last Christmas, I believe. A bit of crackle-and-pop, but not too bad. I have just been through this and all my other used records with the cleaning kit.

I like this record. And the thing is, I would probably not choose to play it on Tidal — nor, if I did, would I be likely to get all the way through it. But on vinyl it is just part of the texture. Each LP is going to be its own microcosm.

Used the record cleaning kit on this one and on all the rest of my used records, then tried Feels So Good again. I am not sure I noticed much of a difference. Unfortunately.

Inclement weather passing through off a tropical storm. The tornado siren has been going for about thirty minutes, but the turntable is working again, so on it goes anyway.

This record sounds great. Acoustic goodness and that voice of hers, which does not sound like anyone else. It is engineered very well. I only got to side A tonight — the siren notwithstanding.

Listening to records is a ritual, like the Catholic mass. There are all sorts of accoutrements, blessings and benedictions, and putting the needle down requires thoughtful preparation with a commitment to hear at least one side. Amen.

I gave this a VG when I first started playing it, but it may be only a G. There is a fairly significant amount of crackle — not as bad as Feels So Good, but it is there and pretty frequent. Poo.

Cornerstone sounds like the seventies to me, especially “Babe.” Styx is a glam band; you know they are. They are like the band from Rocky Horror going mainstream. Dennis wanted to write Broadway musicals and ended up in Styx instead, so he brought some Broadway to Styx — especially in the concept albums. You begin to hear it here.

The turntable arrived today, so this is the first record I have ever played on a deck of my own. I don’t know where I got this album — only that I have carried it around for years, along with my other two Mangiones, Hollywood Bowl and Children of Sanchez.

I did my best to clean it. The needle came down and the crackles and pops came up to meet it, excessive the whole way through. I cleaned it again, better I thought, before side two. If anything side two was worse.

So my worst vinyl fears are being realized: if these crackles and snaps are just part of listening to records, well, fuck that. The record looks fine — good shape, free of dust. Not to my ears. How disheartening.

Autumn wanted to hear a bit of “Feels So Good,” and the second time through the pops were fewer. I listened to the whole album, and it sounded excellent, but any appreciation was overshadowed by the major flaw of the medium. I would grade this copy G/VG.