Ralph Stanley

I mailed this 1971 Rebel LP out to Ralph Stanley's mountain home in Southwestern Virginia in March of 2010 and received it back yesterday. I don't really think I could ask for a better looking Ralph Stanley autograph. The LP cover has a nice design, the signature is clean and bold, and it has perfect placement. In general, I wish Ralph didn't sign his name with a "Dr." in front of it, but he has done this ever since he received an honorary Doctorate of Music from Lincoln Memorial University in Harrogate, Tennessee back in 1976. I assume that every Ralph Stanley autograph signed with a sharpie says "Dr." on it.

My friend John and I went on a road trip to McClure, Virginia in the summer of 2008. After touring the Ralph Stanley Museum in Clintwood, we drove six or seven miles up a windy mountain road to pay our respects to Carter Stanley at the Stanley family plot on Smith Ridge. As you can see from the photographs, Ralph's own resting spot is already designated. Before we left the area, we stopped at the gate of Ralph's modest ranch house and rang the buzzer, but no one answered.

Willie Nelson

By 1982, the Outlaw Movement was long over and commercial radio-friendly pop music (e.g, the 1981 smash "9 to 5") had practically taken over the country music scene. In light of this trend, it made sense for legendary Memphis producer Chips Moman to record Willie singing a few well-chosen rock, soul, and pop selections from the 60s and 70s, though I doubt anyone could have predicted the immense popularity of Elvis's "Always On My Mind" as sung by Willie Nelson. As far as I know, it's his biggest hit as a performer.

Despite its obvious commercial appeal, Always On My Mind is not without aesthetic merits. Willie's voice was recorded perfectly and while the music isn't especially groundbreaking (The Flying Burrito Brothers recorded a country version of "Do Right Woman" back in 1968), the album cover has a post-modern quality to it that makes it stand out, despite its ubiquity. Whether intentional or not, the synthetic nature of Willie's chrome-colored outfit, his painted hair, and the collage of mountains in the background makes Willie look like some sort of futuristic hippie-cowboy in an alien landscape. At the same time, the look is his eyes is warm and inviting.

I mailed the Always On My Mind cover to Willie's ranch in Austin, Texas in January of this year and received it back yesterday, practically a year later. When I opened the package and examined the cover, I was surprised by the location of Willie's autograph, which is in the top right corner directly below the album title (pictured above). I've seen several signed copies of this record on eBay, but I haven't seen any signed in this particular spot. While one can never be 100% sure whether through-the-mail autographs are authentic, I do believe mine is real, despite the unusual signature placement. Otherwise, why would it have taken so long for the package to be returned to me? A secretary could have signed and returned this record 11 months ago. I also know that Willie has a reputation for being a very willing signer.

Below the album scan is a picture of a Willie Nelson autograph that I know is real. To my eyes, both autographs look like they were written with the same hand, though the first loop after the "W" on the album cover is higher than it is in the second photograph and in most other examples I have seen.

Charlie Louvin

I never thought I’d get to see Charlie Louvin play a dive bar in New York City, let alone have the experience on multiple occasions. The above picture was taken in 2006 at The Rodeo Bar in New York City and it gives you a sense of the intimate environment, as well as the configuration of his band. Charlie brought along with him a bass player and a female harmony singer/acoustic guitar player and the trio was rounded out by three local musicians: a mandolin player (partially obscured), drummer, and electric guitar player (not pictured). The New York backing band did an excellent job and, as you might gather from the look on the drummer’s face, the band played loud, energetic honkytonk music, not the watered down stuff you hear at Opryland.

My friends and I were in good spirits that night and were sitting at the front table, in plain view of the performers on stage. At the beginning of the show, I don’t think Charlie quite knew what to make of our group, but when he realized the extent to which we knew and loved his music, he warmed up to us pretty quickly, sitting at our table between sets and posing for pictures. At one point he even sang a song while seated at our table.

As I recall, Charlie’s setlist was a mix of Louvin Brothers tunes, hits from his solo career, and country standards. During the break I asked him if he would sing "I Don’t Believe You Met My Baby," which he reluctantly declined to play because he didn’t feel that his harmony singer would be able to hit the high notes that Ira hit on the old Louvin Brothers recording. The following year when I caught Charlie at Maxwell’s in Hoboken, NJ, I asked him if Ira, who died in 1965, could ever have imagined the environment Charlie found himself in now. He paused for a moment and said "I don’t think Ira could have handled it." I guess his answer didn’t surprise me, but I didn’t forget it, either.

It was at the Maxwell’s show that I asked Charlie to sign the above copy of his most popular solo record. I think you can tell by the illegibility of his signature that he was holding the record with one hand and signing it with the other, as there were no tables in the room for him to place the record while he signed it. Though this isn’t my most attractive cover, it does have sentimental value. I don’t know that I’ll ever have the opportunity to see a country music legend of Charlie’s stature in such a small club again.

I can’t end this post without mentioning that Charlie is recuperating from surgery he had this past summer for pancreatic cancer. The surgery did not go as expected, and he needs your prayers and support. Visit his website if you care to leave him a message.

Les Paul

Les Paul was 92 years old when I caught one of his regular Monday night gigs at the Iridium on March 17, 2008. It was on the list of things I wanted to do before I moved from New York City and I'm just glad I didn't wait any longer, as he died 17 months later. I guess my hesitation in seeing him was that I knew he would not be playing at the level he was playing ten or twenty years earlier. It wasn't until I saw him perform that I realized he could still put on a very entertaining show on the strength of his personality alone. Sure, he missed a few notes and he shared the spotlight with a few guest performers, but the banter between the musicians and with the audience gave me priceless insight into Paul's personality and a reasonable understanding of what his post-Mary Ford shows were like in earlier times, despite not hearing any blistering guitar dynamics. And, the fact that he came out after the show, sat down at a table, and shook hands and signed autographs made for an even more memorable evening.

As I stood in line to meet Les Paul after the show, I had three LPs and a brand new sharpie with me. When it came my turn to go up to Les's table, I handed him the records in the following order: least favorite cover, middle favorite cover, then my favorite cover. My thinking at the time was that the autograph on the third LP would probably look the best; after all, he'd have ample practice on the first two records. I couldn’t have been more wrong. The first autograph, on the World is Still Waiting for the Sunrise album I had inscribed to my friend John, came out beautifully with a cool personalization: "Howdy!" with the "P" in "Paul" making a pretty, round arc around the inscription. The second autograph on the mediocre Hits of Les and Mary cover came out okay, but the "Keep Rockin’!" personalization doesn’t fit with the music on the LP, which, like all of Les Paul’s music, simply isn’t rock and roll, and the "P" in "Paul" is much messier. The third autograph on my favorite cover, Lovers' Luau, came out the worst, with Les accidentally smudging his signature with his hand as he signed the cover.

It’s easy to second-guess the decisions I made when getting these records signed. Perhaps I should not have handed him the records in the order of least favorite to favorite, but I've had other experiences where I wished I had done this but hadn’t (see Gil Scott-Heron). Perhaps I should not have used a new sharpie, but I have autographs written with old sharpies that don't look very nice (see Pete Seeger). I suppose that if there's a lesson to be learned here, it's that much of autograph collecting is luck, not science. As I stated in the beginning of this entry, I'm just happy I got to see the legendary Les Paul at all.

Charley Pride

I sent this 1966 LP to Charley Pride’s post office box in Dallas earlier this year and got it back in the mail, signed, about a month later. The comment "my first album" leads me to believe he may not sign this one that often. This record features Charley’s first single, "Snakes Crawl at Night," as well as the great "Atlantic Coastal Line," both written by Mel Tillis and Fred Burch. I like the uncluttered, simple cover design, which is typical of late 60s RCA country LPs.

It’s worth noting that Charley’s early singles were distributed to country radio stations throughout the South without any pictures of Charley, for fear that racism might keep them from receiving airplay. At the time this LP came out, many folks assumed Charley Pride was white, and, consequently, this perfectly ordinary album cover likely surprised a few people.

Charley Pride still keeps a busy touring schedule, but he doesn’t play the Mid-Atlantic States very often. If he ever makes his way out here again, I’ll be sure to be in the audience.

Hank Snow

In May of 1994, some friends and I took a road-trip from Atlanta to Nashville, with the express purpose of meeting the venerable and relatively inaccessible country music legend, Hank Snow. Though Hank was still performing weekly on the Grand Ole Opry, he was not known for welcoming visitors. When we arrived in Nashville, we checked into a fleabag motel, hit a few used record stores, and then caught a Friday evening performance of the Grand Ole Opry, which was still regularly featuring Hank Snow in the final time-slot. Looking over the Opry program now, I see that Hank Snow, Porter Wagoner, Grandpa Jones, Skeeter Davis, Jean Shepard, Charlie Walker, Jimmy Dickens, and Connie Smith were all part of the same show. Not bad for an evening's entertainment, even if the Opry hasn't really been the Opry since it moved from the Ryman Auditorium in downtown Nashville to the suburbs of Opryland in 1974.

Hank's performance that night was rather unmemorable, as age had considerably slowed him down. I remember him playing a slow Hawaiian song and having some difficulty reading the cue cards for whatever announcements he was supposed to make. He was dressed impeccably in one of his trademark Nudie Suits and just seeing him on stage was enough to make the trip to Nashville worthwhile for me. The following day, my friends and I drove out to Hank's modest but well-guarded estate in Madison, and rang the buzzer at the foot of the gated driveway. A woman answered through the speaker and courteously but firmly told us that Hank was not (and would not be) available to meet us and sign our records. This unceremoniously ended our attempt to meet Mr. Snow, so I had to resort to eBay to acquire the signed Hank Snow record pictured above.

This Award Winners LP popped up on eBay earlier this year with a "Buy it Now" price of $6.00 and it is one of the few prominently signed Hank Snow albums I have seen on eBay -- most are signed on the back cover with a faded ballpoint pen. Interestingly, this record once belonged to United Shows of America carnival operator Ed Gregory, who owned the rights to Jim Reeves and Faron Young before he filed for bankruptcy in 2002. I can only guess that Hank signed it for Gregory while he was performing at a United Shows of America carnival. A decade or two later, Gregory and his wife were convicted of bank fraud in Alabama and soon to be (controversially) pardoned by President Clinton in 2000. A report by the U.S. House Committee on Government Reform concluded that United Shows paid Clinton's brother-in-law Rodham $240,000 for undocumented consulting services before Gregory received the pardon.

It seems very fitting that, out of all of Hank Snow's LPs, and he has over 100 of them, I would end up with a signed copy of this relatively obscure 1971 LP called Award Winners. Believe it or not, Award Winners was the only LP I was carrying under my arm that day in 1994 when I showed up at the Rainbow Ranch and tried to meet Hank Snow.

Red Simpson

During that same trip to Bakersfield where John and I saw Buck Owens at the Crystal Palace (see previous entry), we caught one of Red Simpson's regular Monday night gigs at Trout's in a town called Oildale, which is a few miles north of downtown Bakersfield. The 73 year old nightclub is the last remaining authentic honkytonk in the Bakersfield area.

Monday evenings are advertised as "SENIORS & SINGLES MIXER - LIVE MUSIC Featuring RED SIMPSON & LARRY PETREE!" and the music is really meant as accompaniment for dancing, the way it is at most of the best honkytonks in the country. On the warm September evening that we were there, the dance floor was packed, and most of folks dancing were over the age of 60.

Red and steel player Larry Petree played mostly country standards that night and surprisingly few truck driving songs, the style of country music Red is famous for singing. We had been in contact with Larry the previous week and he knew we were going to be in the audience that night. Shortly after we arrived, he introduced us to Red and Red asked me what song I wanted to hear, to which I responded "Roll, Truck, Roll," without thinking that there's not much room for Larry to play on that song--not that that really mattered. They played "Roll, Truck, Roll" early in the set and they played "Hello, I’m a Truck" shortly after and I don't remember them playing any other truck-driving songs. They mostly played music that was more suitable for dancing. This was definitely entertainment for locals, while Buck's show was geared more toward out-of-towners.

Red and Larry were very friendly with us and we all had a beer together after the show, where Red introduced us to his wife Joyce and signed our records. The entire place--the management, the wait staff, the bartender, the performers--were unusually welcoming and friendly, and this evening is my fondest memory of the Bakersfield trip.

Buck Owens

In September of 2003, my friend John and I took a weekend trip to Bakersfield to see Buck Owens at his Crystal Palace establishment. We weren’t able to meet Buck, but we were able to get a couple of LPs signed, thanks to our waitress who took our records backstage before the show started. Buck’s performance was decent, but I felt that he gave a little too much time to other (non-Buckaroo) members of his band, such as the backup singer pictured above. Even when Buck was in the spotlight, he wasn't exactly doing the things you expected to see him do. I distinctly recall him playing "Steel Guitar Rag" on the resonator guitar, which I would have gladly traded for a performance of "Streets of Bakersfield." In fact, the evening's entertainment was more akin to a variety show than a Buck Owens concert. Fortunately, I was able to catch a much more engaging Buck Owens performance at Bimbo’s 365 Club in San Francisco about a month later.

When John and I got our signed LPs back after the show, our waitress examined the signatures, confirming that Buck himself had, indeed, signed them. Earlier that evening, she had told us that other people sometimes sign for Buck, but that one could tell an authentic Buck Owens signature by examining the "B."

Patti Page

What initially looked like a disaster turned into an attractive cover thanks to a little can of Goof Off. I sent Ms. Page this cover back in January along with a note mentioning, among other things, my father’s memory of escorting her to the stage in the early 1950s at a University of Detroit carnival. I received it back yesterday with two(!) inscriptions on it: one for me and one for “Ms. Griffin,” whoever that is--certainly no relation to me. It appears that Ms. Page got her mail mixed up and inscribed my record to someone else and then corrected her mistake by adding a second inscription. Maybe it took her eight months to decide if she should mail it back to me or not. Fortunately, this being one of those Mercury records with the thin glossy laminate coating, I was able to wipe off the accidental inscription with a rag and a dab of Goof Off. That would not have worked with any non-laminated record and very few are laminated--Mercury, Elektra, and CTI are the only ones I can think of off the top of my head. The fact that this trick worked at all lets you know how vulnerable some autographs can be. I’m just glad the “2010” was on the incorrect inscription and not the one meant for me. This way I don’t feel guilty wiping it off. Who wants to see “2010” on a 1959 record?

Ramblin' Jack Elliott

Ramblin' Jack Elliott signed this 1960 Monitor record for me after a show he played at B.B. Kings Blues Club in 2006. He shared the bill with Peter Rowan, both playing separate sets. At one point Jack and Peter attempted to play a song together, but Jack's guitar was tuned to itself and was quite a bit off from standard tuning. Before Peter had a chance to re-tune to match Jack's guitar, Jack launched into a song. Since Peter was already standing there with his guitar in his hand, he had no choice but to try to play along by bending his strings into tune. This didn't work too well. Peter was obviously embarrassed, Jack was oblivious, and I was amused, finding the incident rather fitting for a Ramblin' Jack Elliott show.

After the performance, Jack came out from the back stage area and was immediately cornered by some guy who brought about 30 records for him to "look through" and sign if and when he "felt like signing something." After the guy ushered Jack to a table, Jack picked up the first record in the collection, an early and obscure EP from the 50s, and bitterly commented that he never received any money for it. Reluctantly, he signed a few of the guy's records--very sloppily--working his way through the stack, obviously feeling a little trapped. It was at this point that I introduced myself and asked if he wouldn't mind signing my record, "after all, I only brought one." I hated to butt in like that, but if I hadn't, I'm sure the guy in front of me would have occupied all of Jack's time until he had had enough of the guy's collection and got up and left. Jack did sign my cover--also very sloppily--noting afterward that he added a couple extra "T's" to his name "because you can never have too many." I don't think Jack intentionally added the extra T's, but I wouldn't be surprised if he did.

George Jones

George Jones signed this Musicor cover earlier this year, after I mailed it to his fan club, and it's one of my favorite autographs I've gotten through the mail. I had met George while he was on his book tour about 15 years ago, but he wasn't signing memorabilia back then. Shortly after that book tour, I saw George in concert with Tammy Wynette, but he didn't sign stuff on that occasion either. Finally I decided that the best way to get him to sign a record was to mail him one, which I did, and I got it back within two weeks.

Porter Wagoner

I got these two Porter Wagoner records signed backstage at Joe's Pub in New York City on March 30, 2007. After the show, I wrote up this short review and posted it on a guitar forum:

Tonight I had the incredible opportunity to see Porter Wagoner backed by Marty Stuart at Joe's Pub in New York City. My wife and I got there early and grabbed a seat right in front of the stage. I had a couple records with me I was hoping to get signed, so I asked the guy in charge if Porter would be signing autographs after the show. This guy unbelievably brought me to a small back stage room to meet Porter and Marty. I shook hands with them and they were as friendly as can be. I was particularly taken with how nice, down to earth, and cool Marty Stuart is. He basically treated me like a good friend, even though we had just met.

Porter's show was one of the most touching shows I have seen. He played a great set: Satisfied Mind, Dooley, I'll Go Down Swinging, Green Green Grass of Home, Rubber Room (!), Cold Hard Facts of Life, and more. Porter was really enjoying himself, as was Marty. I gather that Porter didn't know what to expect coming to New York City after all these years. He ended up absolutely loving it.

At the end of the show, Porter and Marty came on for an encore. Porter didn't need his guitar for the song and there was no guitar stand. He handed the guitar to Marty who had nowhere to put the guitar so, recognizing me from before, he reached across the stage to my table and asked me to hold the guitar. So, I sat through the encore (I'll Go Down Swinging) holding Porter Wagoner's guitar. After the song, I gave Marty back the guitar and he shook my hand, giving me his guitar pick in the process as a token of thanks. This was a moment I won't forget.

Arlo Guthrie

This was the first record I ever got signed and it’s an aesthetic disaster, but it has sentimental value. I got this signed in the late 80s at a daytime show at the Frederick Fair Grounds in Frederick, Maryland. The price of admission was $5 and after the show Arlo sat down in the grass, talking with folks and signing autographs--mostly on cassette tapes. When I handed him this 1981 LP, he said something like "Look at this old thing." It’s funny how a 1981 record can seem more dated than a classic record from the 60s or 70s, but that’s exactly how this one seemed back then and it still does now; I mean, a signed Alice’s Restaurant is a timeless artifact, but a signed Power of Love--Arlo’s last major label record--is in a category all its own. The funny thing is, I had Alice’s Restaurant on LP at the time, but I chose to bring this record to the show instead. I guess I thought it would be a nice gesture to bring a record from the current decade. Something that would not have occurred to me back then is that this "cut-out" copy probably reminded Arlo that this record did not sell very well. I wish that the notched spine was the only issue with this cover, but equally problematic is the fact that the autograph is totally lost in the Hawaiian shirt, not to mention that the pen was obviously running low on ink. There’s also the hideous cover design--at least Arlo’s got a nice tan.

Harry Belafonte

One of the benefits of maintaining this blog is that it motivates me to write letters to the legendary artists I admire like Harry Belafonte. Calypso was probably the first album I ever heard, since it belonged to my parents, and I distinctly remember playing it on my toy turntable when I was a child. When I stumbled upon an incredibly clean copy of this 1956 LP in a dollar record bin last month, I knew I had to mail it to Mr. Belafonte and ask him to sign it. What I got back in return was much nicer than I anticipated. While I often prefer simple, clean signatures without a personalization, I do like autographs like this one that indicate a legitimate interaction took place; it’s nice to know that Mr. Belafonte appreciated my letter, making our exchange much less one-sided than it could have been. Calypso is one of the most popular records of all time--the first LP to sell over one million copies--and the elegant cover design is perfect for an autograph.

Bert Jansch

I got a chance to see Bert Jansch perform a solo show at Southpaw in Broolkyn, NY in 2006. I arrived an hour early to the show and sat next to a gentleman in his 60s who was surprised to see that someone my age (mid 30s) had come to see Bert perform. At that time there were about ten people in the venue and we were all comfortably seated in the only seating area--a small group of couches and chairs in a raised platform towards the back of the room. As people started to trickle in and stand in front of the stage, I decided to do the same so I would have a better view. An hour later the entire club was filled to capacity and most of the audience was in their 20s and 30s and I thought to myself that the surprised guy on the couch must be flabbergasted by now.

Bert was captivating on stage, which is an extremely difficult thing to be when you're performing as a solo act. After the show, Bert came out from the backstage area and into the club to sign a few autographs. While I was waiting for my turn, it was brought to my attention that there were several more autograph-seekers on the sidewalk outside the venue--these were guys who hadn't even seen the show and were probably just looking for stuff to put on eBay. It always annoys me when I see this--fortunately Bert seemed to know what was up and he signed our stuff first.

Recently Bert had to cancel a North American tour due to illness. I really hope he's feeling better and I get a chance to see him perform again.

Tom Paxton

I got Tom Paxton's first LP signed after a recent show at the Barns of Wolf Trap in Vienna, VA. I wish that every autographed record turned out like this one, with a clean, prominent signature and without a date.

Billy Joe Shaver

Billy Joe Shaver signed this for me after a show at Joe's Pub in New York City a couple years ago. I've seen Billy Joe play live several times over the past fifteen years and he still puts on one of the best shows in the business--he's always got a kicking band and he always has a good time on stage. When my wife and I met Billy, the first thing he did was give my wife a huge hug, which I thought was pretty funny, then I handed him this record to sign and he pretended to run off with it before coming back to the merchandise table to sign it. His signature itself is amusing in that it takes up half the record.

Pete Seeger

Pete Seeger signed the Village Gate record backstage at the Avalon Theatre in Easton, MD in the summer of 2008. I did not get to meet Pete in person, but his grandson Tao Rodriguez-Seeger was nice enough to take my record backstage for him to sign. You may notice that the sharpie Pete used was a bit on the dry side -- had I been able to personally hand this cover to him, I would have asked him to use the new sharpie that I had brought with me. This LP has an attractive cover design, but the background is really too dark for the autograph to display prominently and while you can see the signature clearly on this scanned image, it just doesn't stand out that much in person.

I was able to obtain the autograph on the Abiyoyo album by mailing the cover directly to Pete. I think the signature looks perfect, but the item would have broader appeal if it didn't say "to Mike Xxxxxx" in the top left corner (note that I edited out my last name). When I first saw the personalization, I was sure that it was written by someone other than Pete because it was written with a different color sharpie than the signature. Then I compared the letters in the personalization with the letters in the xeroxed, handwritten letter he enclosed and decided that Pete also wrote the personalization, but perhaps as an afterthought when he had a different color sharpie in his hand.

The letter that came in the mail with the Abiyoyo record is probably more interesting to look at than either of these LPs. I wonder if some other folks who have sent Pete memorabilia have gotten their stuff returned unsigned along with one of these letters, also unsigned. Perhaps if I hadn't taken the time to write Pete a sincere, thoughtful letter, I would not have gotten his autograph or the personal note on the form letter. That's okay by me. I think anyone who hits Pete Seeger up for an autograph should respect and admire him as much as I do.

Postscript: I like the fact that both the letter I sent to Pete and the letter I got back from him were handwritten. How often does that happen these days?

Gordon Lightfoot

Mr. Lightfoot signed this for me after a gig at New York's Town Hall a few years ago. My strategy for getting this record signed was to remain in my seat long after the show was over. As I did this, I noticed people congregating in the area to the left of the stage, as if they knew Gordon would be coming out. I wandered over to this crowd of people, acting like I belonged, and, sure enough, Gordon came out to meet fans and sign autographs. While the show itself wasn't that great--mainly because it wasn't loud enough--this is one of my best autographs.

Richie Havens

Out of all the 60s legends I've seen perform live, Richie Havens probably sounds the most like he did forty years ago. He has the same voice, the same frenetic strumming style, and he sings about the same issues--remaining true to his ideals throughout his lengthy career. I got a chance to see Richie at the legendary and tiny Greenwich Village night club The Bitter End as part of a special barely-advertised Earth Day show and it almost felt as if I were witnessing a classic Bitter End show from an earlier era.

This particular record was signed on a snowy February night at the Barns of Wolf Trap about five years ago. You may notice that this is the MGM reissue of Richie's 1967 debut; the original Verve LP does not have the Woodstock banner. I would prefer that this copy didn't have the banner either, but the autograph looks so nice that I really can't complain.

David Bromberg

Perhaps Columbia Records still thought David Bromberg had a chance at a hit single when they approved the concept for this hilarious album cover design, which, by the way, has absolutely nothing to do with the contents on the record. Surely, Columbia didn't need to go this extreme to depict a "wanted man," who is presumably wanted as a session guitarist and, perhaps, as a live (note "Alive" in album title) performer. These days, it's hard to imagine any record label expending this much creative and financial effort for the release of a solo album by someone who is, first and foremost, a session musician, however talented that artist might be. I'm sure it was commonplace back in the 70s.

Though I've seen Bromberg many times in concert, I took an unusual approach to getting this cover signed. While driving from New York to Washington, DC, I made a smaill detour into downtown Wilmington, found Bromberg's high-end violin shop and rang the buzzer. A violin craftsman answered the door and I introduced myself, asking if Mr. Bromberg might be available to sign my album. Even though I obviously wasn't about to plop down $100,000 for an antique french bow, the craftsman brought me into David's office where David stood up from behind his desk, wearing a coat and tie that offset the natural unkemptness of his burly gray beard. I introduced myself, we shook hands, and he signed this record. I mentioned how much I enjoyed his recent appearance with Tony Rice and Peter Rowan at B.B. King's Blues Club in New York City and how glad I was that he was performing regularly again, then I got back in my car and headed south.

I probably like this album cover design more than I should--it had a prominent place on the wall when I lived in New York City. It's a decent record too, with "The New Lee Highway Blues" being one of Bromberg's best songs.

Wayne Newton

Two Sundays ago, I found this pristine two-dollar Wayne Newton album at the local record store. I mailed the cover to Wayne the following day and less than one week later, he returned it to me signed. Wayne has a reputation for being very willing to sign autographs, so I don't have any doubt that he signed this record himself--especially since his autograph looks exactly like all of the other Wayne Newton autographs I've seen. While I'm not a rabid Wayne Newton fan, I always enjoy hearing "Red Roses for a Blue Lady" and I love the simple, classic design of nearly all Capitol Records album covers from the 1960s.

Tom Rush

The best sentence I've read about Tom Rush is in Mark Brend's book American Troubadours:

"Rush is, simply, a good singer, guitarist, interpreter and songwriter."

As you can see by the covers above, Rush's above-average talent extends to his autograph-signing technique. It's obvious from looking at these two autographs that Tom has signed these records before and has thought carefully about how to sign them and where to place his signature.

I love the classic shot of Tom lighting a cigarette in a New Jersey railroad yard with the Hudson River and the Manhattan skyline in the background. Fittingly, I got these albums signed in the Brennan Coffee House in Jersey City, not far from where this shot was taken. The Brennan "Coffee House" is the lobby of the Justice William Brennan Court House, where they assemble tables and a makeshift stage and put on small concerts. They aren't allowed to sell alcoholic beverages because it is a government facility, but they are allowed to serve free glasses of wine and they actually do. It's not a bad place for an evening's entertainment and Tom Rush always puts on a great show, particularly if you get to hear him play "Mole's Moan."

Gil Scott-Heron

I got these Gil Scott-Heron records signed after a recent gig at B.B. King's Blues Club in New York City. I was delighted to see Gil perform, which is something that I would not have thought possible just a short while ago when Gil was going through more difficult times. I'd like to say Gil's performance was an unqualified success, but a combination of factors made this evening as frustrating as it was entertaining. I should start off by saying that I don't like B.B. King's for several reasons: 1. You need to arrive early (i.e., around dinner time) to get a decent seat, which means that you inevitably shell out more money for their outrageously priced food and drinks ($9 for a beer and $17 for a burger). 2. After the show, everyone is herded out of the club to make room for an unrelated show by a different performer. 3. They seat too many people at the tables, so it's nearly impossible to stretch your legs, much less get up and visit the bathroom. 4. The staff seats you instead of allowing you to find your own seat.

Arriving to the stage 45 minutes late, Gil sat at an organ and mostly performed solo, except towards the end when he was backed by a couple of guest musicians: a woman on electric piano and some guy on harmonica. I can think of at least fifty other instruments I would choose to compliment an organ before I would select another keyboard and a harmonica, of all things. On the positive side, Gil had a commanding stage presence and the same instantly-recognizable voice, though his speech was sometimes slurred. The highlight of the evening for me was hearing Gil sing his own blues composition "Blue Collar" as a tribute to B.B. King. I don't consider Gil a blues singer, but he's as credible as anyone I have ever heard sing the blues in live performance. These particular words resonated with me, especially given Gil's recent stint in New York State prison:

I was down in Kansas City where even the blues sell by the pound
I been down in New York City and that ain't no place to be down
I been been lookin' at the faces of children and you see we're lookin' for higher ground
And you can't name where we ain't been down.

Immediately after the show, the B.B. Kings staff began prodding the audience to leave, so they could make way for the next show--some kind of DJ event that absolutely no one on the premises had come to see. When I politely inquired as to whether Gil would be coming out, a member of the staff said something to the effect of "He's not allowed to. Everyone has to leave." I don't think this woman had any clue who Gil Scott-Heron was and it was obvious that she would not be treating him with the respect that he deserves, should he decide to venture out of the back stage area and into the venue. At this point, I decided it was too much trouble to linger any longer and I left, feeling angry with the staff and swearing to myself that I would never return to B.B. Kings.

When I got out to the street, something kept me from heading for the subway right away and I wandered around Times Square. Fifteen minutes later, I found myself back in front of the venue where, coincidentally, Richie Havens was standing around smiling for pictures for the few folks who recognized him. He wasn't performing that evening and I wondered if perhaps he had come by to say hello to Gil, but I never found out. In the midst of the excitement surrounding Richie Havens, I decided to discreetly go back into the club and see if I could find Gil. I walked back into the seating area and sure enough, there he was, signing autographs for two young girls who may not have known exactly who he was. Unfortunately, standing right next to Gil and breathing down his neck was the same obnoxious woman still trying to clear the floor for the next show that no one around had come to see. I hurriedly asked Gil if he would sign my records, while at the same time the exasperated staff member announced that Gil could sign my records, but after that, everyone had to leave. Given the rushed situation, it was impossible to have any kind of meaningful exchange with Gil, but I did manage to get his autograph and I think he was pleased to sign something other than bar napkins and ticket stubs.

I think both of these albums have visually striking and provocative covers, though I like the design of the Reflections cover best. Looking at the two autographs, I prefer the less-complicated signature on the Moving Target record to the one that looks like some kind of weird math problem on the Reflections cover. The fact that the nicer autograph is on the wrong record is my own fault. I was distracted by the rude B.B. Kings staff and I accidentally handed Gil the Reflections cover to sign first. After I saw that he dated it, I politely asked if he could simply sign the second one without adding a date. Had I handed him the Moving Target cover first, I could have gotten the nicer autograph on the Reflections record. This isn't that big a deal, but it's worth pointing out.

Mavis Staples

I got this cover signed at a free concert in New York City in the summer of 2007. After the show, Mavis sat at a table and signed autographs for dozens of fans. A helper collected and stacked each item that folks had brought for her to sign. When she got to this record, she smiled and said "Whose is this? That's cool!" Ordinarily, when an artist is part of a group but performing solo, I prefer to get a solo album signed, provided one exists. In this case, the We'll Get Over album cover design is so beautiful to begin with, that it doesn't bother me that this is a Staple Singers record and it only has one signature.

Interestingly, Yvonne Staples sang with Mavis on stage, but chose not to sign autographs. I didn't mind since I only had this record with me and it came out right before she joined the group.

Kay Starr

I found this beautiful 1958 RCA Victor LP in a bargain bin at a local record store. The condition isn't perfect, but it's not too bad considering its age. Earlier this month, I mailed it out to Ms. Starr for her to sign and I just got it back. Overall, I'm happy with the way it turned out.

Hank Locklin

In September 2008, I emailed Hank's wife Anita, asking if Hank would sign a record if I mailed it to her. Hank was bed-ridden and recovering from a fall, but she said he could probably sign it. Hank passed away five months after signing this album and I wonder if it was the last piece of memorabilia that he signed; you can see from his signature that his condition was rather frail.

At the bottom right you can see where Anita wrote the date on the day that Hank signed the record. Ordinarily I don't like autographs to be dated, but because this may be the latest existing Hank Locklin autograph, I don't mind it's presence.

Marvin Rainwater

I wrote a letter to Marvin Rainwater in 1999, telling him how much I enjoy his music and asking him to sign this LP cover. He sent me back the signed cover, a signed 8x10, two CD-Rs of his music, and a note explaining the significance of the guitar in the photo. I thought it was really cool that he took the time to put together a nice package for me and relate that amusing anecdote about him accidentally cracking Red Foley's (beautiful) guitar. Aesthetically, I would have preferred the inscription without the side-comment, but the unique way he signed it made for a more memorable interaction with this under-appreciated artist.

Ray Price

Ray Price signed this for me in the late 90s after a show at the Birchmere Music Hall in Alexandria, Virginia. His voice has held up nicely over the years and he put on an outstanding show. Another Bridge to Burn is not my favorite album cover (or song), but it's nicer looking than many of Ray's other albums and there's plenty of light-colored space for an autograph. I think the best cover for signing is his first LP Ray Price Sings Heart Songs.

Jim and Jesse

Jim and Jesse McReynolds signed this LP at a North Georgia fairground in the mid 90s. When I handed them the record, I suggested that Jim place his signature over his guitar and Jesse place his signature over his leg. Perhaps they would have done this anyway, but who knows. I really like the way this one turned out. While the music on the album isn't exceptional, I think this is their most attractive LP cover.