My brother Ted, as a young boy, had this elaborate ritual of buying 45 rpm records at the end of most weeks. After collecting money from the patrons on his paper route, he would put so much aside for his PSFS savings account, some aside to buy candy from Doc’s and hoagies from George’s and some to get him to the record store on 69th Street to buy the 45 that everyone wanted. He would dress- gabardine pants and elaborately patterned polyester shirts- for these weekly sojourns to the music mecca up the hill.
Though my dad and his brothers were avid jazz lovers, listeners and collectors, it was Ted who brought into our home what was new and coveted. He-this young boy- also opened our home and hearts to what was quirky and exquisite; he introduced us to Phoebe Snow and to his new practice of buying albums. I can vividly recall most of her album covers and all of the lives I had lived when I listened to her music. She and Janis Ian and Carole King were the first poets I loved.
I saw Phoebe perform years ago, in
, at the famed Philadelphia Chestnut Street Cabaret and her magic is still with me.
Here’s the link to Inspired Insanity; one of my favorites.http://www.myspace.com/phoebesnowmusic/music/songs/inspired-insanity-28599361