Features

This story, posted last fall, wondered about the fate of our Tracking Angle New Orleans correspondent Roger Hahn. Mid way through January, Hahn found us through a friend who\'d done an internet search on his name and came upon this piece, originally published in the Summer of 1998. Hahn will once again contribute, this time online at musicangle.com.

This is part of an interview I conducted with the great recording engineer Bill Porter back in 1987. I met up with Porter at Denver audio dealer Listen Up! We chatted and listened to some of his recordings. The remainder of the interview will be posted at a later date, along with listening session notes.

In part I of my interview with legendary Nashville engineer, Bill Porter, I wrote, “In one month of 1960, Porter-engineered recordings accounted for 15 of Billboard's Top 100 Singles.” That was a mistake. In fact, Porter had 15 charted singles in one week.

The original Warner Brothers label was gold colored with “Vitaphonic Long Play” on the bottom, separated by “Stereo” in red letters, boxed in black. In small red letter above that it reads “Warning:reproduce only with stereophonic cartridge and stylus. Pressure not to exceed 6 grams” (mono releases were originally gold as well, but were later changed to grey). This label continued into the mid-sixties. Original pressings of records like 1962’s Peter Paul and Mary (WS 1449) feature that label, as does Peter Paul and Mary’s Moving album (WS 1473) from 1963.
Promo copies were black and white

An anxiety-reducing DVD that takes the mystery out of vinyl playback

The shadow story of the tragic life of the sad-eyed, impossibly pretty Gram Parsons is fairly well known, at least among fans of The Byrds, The Flying Burrito Brothers and Parsons’ ill-fated solo career.

Parsons (original name: Ingram Cecil Connor III) was an enigma: a Southern born trust fund baby, Harvard drop-out and emotionally troubled musician who, though plagued by alcohol and drug abuse, (or perhaps in part because of it), produced some of the most haunting and enduring music of his era, while forging a new musical paradigm combining folk, country, rock, soul and “glam.” Though he influenced generations of musicians who followed, he never sold that many records.

The famous motorcycle accident in 1966 that disabled a rising music star—then mired in a now long-forgotten controversy of folk-versus-pop—setting the stage for an extended period of seclusion and retreat. It’s an episode that continues to intrigue tellers of the star’s story (a recent article in American Heritage magazine, for example, can’t help introducing it as “The Bob Dylan Motorcycle-Crash Mystery”).

And for many chroniclers, it remains the central event in the Legend of Bob Dylan, the before-and-after moment, the durable frame for the-young-and-the-old, the-rise-and-the-fall, the Icarus-inflected storyline of the-burning-meteor-and-the-fallen-angel cautionary tale.