“She was a 10-year-old, kind of precocious hillbilly singer. “That oneĪlways gets people’s attention,” McMahon said after leaving the DJ booth. His strangest pick was Little Rita Faye’s “I’m a Problem Child,” an unsettling Americana oddity unavailable on either YouTube or Spotify. Patience and Prudence’s unintentionally creepy “Tonight You Belong to Me” was followed by “You’re My Sugar,” an antagonist duet between Kay Starr and Tennessee Ernie Ford, then by Lillian Briggs’s “Can’t Stop,” an explosive love song belted by rockabilly’s preeminent female trombonist-turned-powerhouse singer. His set was the most idiosyncratic, a versatile blend of time and logic. He estimates his collection at 4,000 records, amassed over 30 years, but until the party began in 2010, he had never taken his trove outside.
#Phast crackle movie#
A few looked like extras in a John Waters movie Michael McMahon, trim and sporting a pencil mustache, could be mistaken for Waters himself. On Sunday, a mixed, middle-aged crowd, occasionally joined by curious bystanders, nodded to the sounds of barrelhouse bluesman Piano Red and danced in pairs to Lester Young’s “Let’s Fall in Love.” Attendees had either put a lot of effort into their wardrobe - newsboy hats and high-waisted trousers - or none at all. The must-have spare inch of turntable mat Dina Litovsky The listening party reverses the sequester and has become a smash hit in this small community. Serious 78 collectors make LP snobs look like Spotify playlist jockeys, but their hobby creates a paradox: Preserving rare, old pop music often dooms some of history’s hottest jazz and most mournful country to life on a dark, dry shelf. The only requirement was that, as the name says, those discs must be 78s: stiff, fragile cuts of shellac made from South Asian bug resin and most popular during the first half of the 20th century. It was the Big Ten-Inch 78 Listening Party, a bi-monthly opportunity for New York’s most devoted record collectors to play show-and-tell with their favorite obscure discs. “All the best drummers from that period came out of the strip club,” he said to Jon Hammer, a mustachioed guitarist in the rockabilly-revival band Susquehanna Industrial Tool & Die Co., and the host for the event. Alex de Laszlo, a librarian at Bronx Community College, was at the DJ booth. While Duke Ellington’s “Jam-a-Ditty” crackled over the speakers, a small group of old-time music obsessives chatted about their favorite hillbilly and gospel records, drinking cocktails and seltzers while toe-tapping to Ellington’s swing.
#Phast crackle tv#
The flat-screen TV showed the final round of the PGA Championship, and young guys from the neighborhood, drying out from the day’s downpour, caught up over drinks.īut in the back: a time warp. This past Sunday evening, the front room of HiFi Bar on Avenue A was a typical East Village scene. Tony Abrego dons the 78 DJ cap of choice.
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