September 2025
My publisher here at the SoundStage! Network, Doug Schneider, has given me free rein for the nearly 24 years I’ve written for him. Brave man. A few weeks back he sent me an idea for a column: “Ten Great Albums to Start Your Record Collection With.” I responded, “By genre?” To be honest, I was hoping to get three columns out of the idea—one for rock, one for jazz, and one for soul/R&B.
Doug came back with, “Let’s say you have some 20-something-year-old—do you recommend a genre or just ‘you have to hear this’?” The second option was clearly a greater challenge. I’ve been listening to and collecting records for more than 50 years. My first ten LPs were all rock, all from the late 1960s and early ’70s.
I soon ventured into other music. First, I bought some soul albums by Wilson Pickett and Aretha Franklin. Then I expanded my taste to take in jazz. Over the years I’ve also accumulated a decent-sized classical-music selection, comprising a few hundred records. My musical tastes are eclectic and often strange.
If that 20-year-old is coming to me for advice, I’m going to lean towards records that are musically significant. Some may be beautifully recorded, but my primary criterion for inclusion here is musical worth. Some of the records I’ve chosen aren’t my favorites by a particular artist. They are, however, part of the cultural landscape and would therefore form an ideal basis for starting a record collection.
I’m going to list three titles each in rock, jazz, and R&B, and end with a classical title to bring us to an even ten.
Rock
1. The Beatles: Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band (1967)
When the Beatles recorded Sgt. Pepper’s in late 1966, they had already helped usher in a new era in pop music, one where musicians could change direction with each album and take bold risks. Revolver had introduced psychedelia when it was released the previous year, stretching the boundaries of what was possible in the recording studio. Sgt. Pepper’s took that sonic experimentation even further.
Song by song, Sgt. Pepper’s is a great album. It embodies the sense of possibility that pop music embraced in 1967 and anticipates a lot of what it would become in the next few years. Even the songs that might have seemed dated by now hold up. “Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds” is a charming piece of psychedelia. “Within You Without You” might take time to appreciate, but it’s worth the effort.
“Getting Better,” “Fixing a Hole,” and “Good Morning Good Morning” are among the Beatles’ best songs, and “Lovely Rita” is among the least appreciated of their very good songs. “When I’m Sixty-Four” is the kind of tune you figured you could play for your parents, but now that I’m past that age, I can relate to it. The string arrangement for “She’s Leaving Home” is heavy-handed, but the story and imagery are strong enough to save it. “A Day in the Life” launched a thousand prog bands. Don’t hold that against it. I don’t.
The version of the album currently available on vinyl is the Giles Martin remix. It’s fine. Actually, it’s very good. But the original album, with its mid-’60s channel separation and panning, is how Sgt. Pepper’s sounded for 50 years. Try to find the 2012 vinyl release, cut by Sean Magee. Discogs has copies listed, and you should be able to get one for US$30 to US$40, including shipping. I have four copies of Sgt. Pepper’s in stereo, and my favorites are a 1969 pressing from Japan and a 1971 pressing from the UK. Both will be costly, especially if they’re being shipped from either country.
If you decide you want the album as it was originally released in good sound, try to find a Parlophone or Apple UK pressing done prior to 1988, when the album was digitally remastered. For American collectors, it might be more affordable from an American dealer because of shipping, but it’s likely to be expensive regardless.
2. The Rolling Stones: Beggars Banquet (1968)
Since Beggars Banquet followed Their Satanic Majesties Request (1967), it’s easy to think of it as an abrupt shift away from the psychedelic pop the Stones were doing in the ’60s. In fact, the Stones only veered into psychedelia for two albums (Between the Buttons from 1966 was the other one). Moreover, those two albums rocked plenty.
Aftermath (1966) was only released two and a half years earlier, so Beggars Banquet was a return to the kind of blues-based rock the Stones had been playing since the beginning. And it was possibly even tougher.
“Sympathy for the Devil” defies description musically. It’s built on a samba rhythm, but it isn’t Latin rock. It rocks fiercely, though. The song recounts Satan’s role in history’s atrocities, as well as our own culpability. “Street Fighting Man” reflects on the political tensions of 1968 and Mick Jagger’s ambivalence about them. Brian Jones plays sitar on the song, but it sounds menacing. “Jigsaw Puzzle” is strongly blues-based, but the sound of the recorder on the song (apparently produced on a Mellotron) gives it a hint of the psychedelia the group was leaving behind.
Brian Jones’s acoustic slide guitar on “No Expectations” was by all accounts his last significant contribution to a Stones recording. It evokes a gentle and moving country-blues feel. “Dear Doctor” is convincing country music with a hint of parody, and “Factory Girl” is folk music done straight. “Prodigal Son,” a gospel-blues song by Robert Wilkins, is a perfect example of the Stones playing the music that inspired them without compromise.
“Parachute Woman” and “Stray Cat Blues” are tough and mean. “Salt of the Earth” manages to avoid condescension in its tribute to the working class. Pianist Nicky Hopkins made significant contributions to Beggars Banquet, and it was Jimmy Miller’s first time in the producer’s chair for the band. The Stones’ run of masterpieces, all produced by Miller, continued for three more LPs, including Exile on Main St.
The vinyl version of Beggars Banquet currently available was cut by Sean Magee at Abbey Road Studios, using Bob Ludwig’s digital masters from 2002. I haven’t heard it, but Magee does good work. I have the 2003 reissue, for which Don Grossinger cut the lacquer. It’s a terrific-sounding LP. Grossinger’s name should show up on LPs more often. I also have a US pressing, bought in the early ’70s, that I really like. You can find copies in VG+ condition for about 20 bucks.
3. Bob Dylan: Highway 61 Revisited
The snare-drum shot that opens “Like a Rolling Stone” is the first thing you hear on Highway 61 Revisited, and it’s justifiably famous. But what really grabs me is the magic of the rhythm guitars. Electric and out in front of the rest of the instruments, they sound full and majestic, a wall of guitars—but it’s just Dylan and Mike Bloomfield.
Columbia released “Like a Rolling Stone” as a single a month before releasing Highway 61 Revisited and was surprised when it became a hit. It runs over six minutes, far longer than the average single. Paul McCartney has said that it expanded the possibilities of what could be done on a single, and two years later, “Hey Jude” exceeded it by nearly a minute.
Every song on Highway 61 Revisited still sounds revolutionary. “Tombstone Blues” gets a charge of electricity from Mike Bloomfield’s guitar riffs, “From a Buick 6” has an exhilarating garage-rock energy, and the slightly out-of-tune guitar on “Queen Jane Approximately” throws things out of whack—creating the feeling that all the other instruments are slightly off. It makes you pay more attention to Dylan’s voice.
“Highway 61 Revisited” brings together the Bible and various strains of Americana against the backdrop of Highway 61, which runs from Duluth, Minnesota, to New Orleans. Dylan blows a siren whistle at the opening of the song and before each verse, and it highlights the song’s surreal humor. The lyrics throughout the album are poetic and literate, but Dylan fits them to his singing. While they read well on the page, you need to hear him singing “Ballad of a Thin Man” and “It Takes a Lot to Laugh, It Takes a Train to Cry” to try to begin understanding them.
The album closes with “Desolation Row,” an 11-and-a-half-minute narrative of urban decay filled with vivid imagery and complex wordplay. Its meaning changes with each listen as images and the narrative shift. I’ve been listening to it for more than 50 years, but the humor or pathos of a line that snuck by me before will still suddenly hit me. The instrumentation is simple: Dylan on acoustic guitar, Charlie McCoy on acoustic lead guitar, and Russ Savakus on bass. Despite being played on acoustic instruments, it feels like a rock song.
Ryan K. Smith cut the vinyl release of Highway 61 Revisited that is currently available. I haven’t heard it, but Smith’s work is excellent. At US$21 it’s reasonably priced. I’ve had several versions on LP, and my favorite is a 1965 pressing from Columbia’s Pitman plant in New Jersey. Copies in VG+ shape or better are expensive.
Jazz
1. Miles Davis: Kind of Blue (1959)
Kind of Blue has sold around 7 million copies worldwide, an unheard-of number for a jazz recording. It’s the kind of record that people who own few jazz LPs still have in their collections. It’s accessible and melodic and calming.
It’s also utterly brilliant, a high point in a career filled with them. There are deeper emotions and tensions in the music than the calm exterior suggests, and the musicians reached into an endless well of inspiration.
“So What” sets the tone for the LP. Pianist Bill Evans establishes the opening chords, with bassist Paul Chambers playing softly behind him. Chambers then plays a firm bass line that begins to shape the song, with the horn players vamping until drummer Jimmy Cobb plays a roll to bring in Davis’s solo. The song feels leisurely, but it’s a slow simmer.
Davis asked pianist Wynton Kelly to play on “Freddie Freeloader” because he was confident in his handling of the blues, but Evans does fine himself on “All Blues.” Throughout the album, Cannonball Adderley’s earthy, blues-based solos provide a contrast to John Coltrane’s edgier, more questing statements.
The album’s power comes from the inspiration and cues the players give to each other. Evans’s delicate chords offer Davis a chance to play clear, beautifully developed melodies, and Evans’s own solos have a gentler romantic allure. Adderley and Coltrane have different styles, with Coltrane leaning into an intellectual, sometimes harsh, but highly effective approach. Bassist Paul Chambers and drummer Jimmy Cobb are alert accompanists, reacting to the other players and aiding them as their ideas develop.
The currently available mono and stereo pressings of Kind of Blue from Legacy Records are very good. The Acoustic Sounds UHQR Clarity Vinyl pressings are even better. They’re available as a single LP cut at 33⅓ rpm and as a double-LP set cut at 45 rpm. I’ve rarely heard a dramatic difference between LPs cut at those differing speeds unless the original exceeded 40 minutes in length.
I have a Classic Records pressing of Kind of Blue from 2002 and compared it to a friend’s UHQR single-LP copy. Bernie Grundman’s cut for the Classic reissue was the source for the UHQR releases, and I heard no discernable difference, but I give the UHQR a slight edge for its quiet background. Used copies of the Classic pressing are in the US$50-to-$60 range. The single-LP UHQR is US$100, while the double-LP 45-rpm set is US$150.
2. The Dave Brubeck Quartet: Time Out (1959)
Nearly as popular as Kind of Blue and released just a few months later, Time Out was for years a source of controversy and a favorite target for jazz critics. Ira Gitler rated it two out of five stars in his review for Downbeat, but jazz fans responded to it immediately. The single from the album, “Take Five,” reached the Top 40.
Brubeck and saxophonist Paul Desmond had been the core of the quartet since its inception in 1951. Drummer Joe Morello joined in 1957, and bassist Eugene Wright came on board a year later. That lineup recorded Time Out and remained together until 1967.
Brubeck’s conception for Time Out was that its compositions would use time signatures not typical for jazz. “Blue Rondo à la Turk” uses an unusual rhythm that Brubeck heard musicians play when he was touring with the quartet in Turkey. The solo sections switch to 4/4. “Take Five” is Desmond’s composition—the rest are Brubeck’s—and the group glides through the 5/4 time. Morello’s drum solo is a high point of the album. He thinks melodically and dynamically, never losing sight of the song’s rhythm.
“Three to Get Ready” shifts time signatures deftly, and “Kathy’s Waltz” moves between 4/4 and double-waltz time. “Everybody’s Jumpin’” and “Pick Up Sticks” are both in 6/4. All this playing around with time signatures would be academic if not for the fact that Desmond and Brubeck wrote such pleasing and unique melodic themes. Wright brings a sense of rhythmic ease to the performances, and Morello swings solidly throughout.
Brubeck had a reputation for heavy-handed solos, but his playing was frequently lyrical, especially on Time Out. Even critics of Brubeck often admired Desmond’s light touch, Morello’s steady and imaginative drumming, and Eugene Wright’s nimble, rhythmically solid bass work. All are on ample display on Time Out.
Sony Legacy currently offers a vinyl release of Time Out for US$22. I haven’t heard it, but those releases are generally good—and they’re affordable. Analogue Productions offers a single-LP version for US$40 and a two-LP, 45-rpm one for US$60. Both are housed in heavy gatefold covers with tipped-on artwork. Bernie Grundman cut the lacquers for them.
If you’re looking at the Sony Legacy reissue, do yourself a favor and spend the extra US$18 for the Analogue Productions LP. I have the Classic Records reissue from 2002, for which Grundman did the mastering. It’s stunningly detailed and alive, and customer reviews on Discogs and elsewhere indicate that the same is true for the Analogue Productions release.
Please note: Time Out and Kind of Blue are available in releases by various European labels, such as WaxTime, Jazz Wax, Not Now Music, and others. Give them a pass.
3. John Coltrane: A Love Supreme (1964)
John Coltrane had a spiritual awakening in 1957 that helped him kick his addictions to heroin and alcohol. A Love Supreme was his thanks for that gift. It was, as he wrote in the liner notes to the album, “by the grace of God, a spiritual awakening which was to lead me to a richer, fuller, more productive life. At that time, in gratitude, I humbly asked to be given the means and privilege to make others happy through music.”
A Love Supreme is a suite in four sections. “Acknowledgement” is, in effect, a prayer. At one point Coltrane plays a four-note theme in different registers, followed by him singing the words “a love supreme” several times using those same notes. Bassist Jimmy Garrison played that theme at the beginning of the song, and Coltrane’s improvisation expands on it. His conversation with God contains everything from joy to anguish. McCoy Tyner’s chord changes give the music a harmonic foundation, and drummer Elvin Jones maintains a steady rhythm but helps drive Coltrane along with his accents and cymbal work.
The swinging, rollicking “Resolution” is an expression of joy, with Coltrane playing exuberantly as Jones and Garrison push him along. Tyner’s solo is upbeat and exciting. “Pursuance” begins with a muscular solo from Jones. A fast-paced section follows, beginning with a brief statement from Coltrane. Tyner plays a lengthy, elegant solo, maintaining his equilibrium despite the rushed tempo. Coltrane returns with a solo filled with anguished cries that evoke the pain he must have been feeling before his spiritual awakening.
A calm section at the close of “Pursuance” clears space for a meditative solo by Garrison that evokes a feeling of spiritual peace. That calmness remains through the final section of the suite, “Psalm,” which reaches heights of exaltation and ecstasy. The music Coltrane recorded for the remaining two and a half years of his life would contain pronounced spiritual elements.
Buy the Verve Acoustic Sounds reissue. Nothing else will come close to the sound on that pressing.
R&B
1. James Brown: Live at the Apollo (1963)
James Brown’s label, King Records, didn’t want to release Live at the Apollo, which Brown recorded at his own expense. He pressed King, and the label relented. The album ultimately reached #2 on the Billboard pop chart and brought Brown to a wider audience.
Brown’s band and his backup singers, the Famous Flames, were in peak form when they recorded at the Apollo Theater in Harlem in late 1962. Fats Gonder, the organist in Brown’s band and the master of ceremonies for his shows, introduces Brown in the opening moments of the LP. The intro is as iconic as anything on the record.
After a quick instrumental flourish, Brown and the band take the stage and Brown begins the first of several exhortations to the audience. He works them like a Pentecostal preacher. He and the group kick into “I’ll Go Crazy,” the first in a series of Brown’s hits they perform over the next ten minutes. Things slow down a bit with the ballad “Try Me” and pick up again with “Think” before the group settles into the mid-tempo “I Don’t Mind.” The songs are held together with brief instrumental interludes, scarcely giving the audience time to catch its breath.
Brown reaches out once more to the crowd in the opening moments of “Lost Someone,” a ten-minute epic ballad that he and his band keep at a slow boil, using dynamics and emphasis to work the audience into squeals of delight—and I don’t think it’s just the women. A medley of more Brown hits follows, and the album closes with the swift, cooking “Night Train,” with Brown shouting out city names and other electrifying bits of info, unable to contain his excitement.
Any number of performers learned from Live at the Apollo. Van Morrison’s dynamic live version of “Cyprus Avenue” on his 1974 live album It’s Too Late to Stop Now takes its cue from Brown. Prince, Michael Jackson, and many other performers patterned their stage shows on Brown’s as well.
Live at the Apollo has been reissued many times on many labels. The currently available version by Polydor / Universal Music gets mixed reviews. Pick up the Solid Smoke reissue from 1980. It doesn’t use the original cover, but it sounds good. Chances of finding a clean King Records original are slim, and you’ll shell out for it.
2. Otis Redding: Otis Blue / Otis Redding Sings Soul
Otis Redding’s recording career spanned a brief five years, but his consistency over that time was such that picking a single album is tough. Still, Otis Blue is a good place to start. His voice was strong, his songwriting was maturing, and his interpretive skills were so impressive he could tackle well-known songs and make them his own.
“Ole Man Trouble” is a gut-bucket blues scorcher that Redding sings with passion without overdoing it. Steve Cropper’s snarling, razor-sharp guitar provides the song with its blues pedigree, but it’s Redding’s expert delivery that gives the song its power. “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” is a stirring, dynamic ballad, and “Respect” is hard-pounding soul.
Redding had covered Sam Cooke songs on earlier albums. He offers fresh takes on three Cooke tunes on Otis Blue. Cooke was one of his inspirations, and sometimes Redding hewed close to the originals in his interpretations of Cooke’s songs. His performance of “Change Gonna Come” is even more emotionally naked than Cooke’s, “Shake” kicks harder, and “Wonderful World” is rougher and has a more pronounced blues feel. Another cover, “Satisfaction,” is a reminder that Stax / Volt Records, Redding’s label, created music that inspired the song’s writers, Mick Jagger and Keith Richards.
Aside from Redding’s consistently emotional and forceful singing, the key to Otis Blue and to all of Redding’s records is the Stax session band, which included Steve Cropper, Booker T. Jones, and Al Jackson Jr. Every note is perfect, and the band gives Redding room to shine, never calling attention to itself.
There are several reissues of Otis Blue currently available on vinyl. Two are from Rhino Records, and one is from Sundazed Music. They’re all mono and they all should sound fine, but I’d lean towards the 2025 Rhino reissue cut by Chris Bellman.
3. Marvin Gaye: What’s Going On (1971)
When Motown’s president, Berry Gordy, heard the Marvin Gaye song “What’s Going On” for the first time, he hated it. “That’s the worst thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” he told Gaye. Other executives at Motown liked it, but Gordy wouldn’t budge. One of the label’s executive vice-presidents decided to release “What’s Going On” as a single when Gordy was in California on business. Gordy was initially furious, but when it sold 100,000 copies the day it was released, he decided that Gaye should record an entire album.
Gaye was already popular, but What’s Going On solidified his fame and helped Motown move away from singles and into the more lucrative album market. Gaye had been feeling creatively stifled, and What’s Going On established him as one of the most important songwriters and performers in pop music.
The title track is a plea for an end to war and includes references to protestors who were opposing the war in Vietnam. “What’s Happening Brother” describes the impact the war had on soldiers returning home. Gaye’s reaction to Vietnam was personal. His brother had been stationed there and later told him stories about his experiences and his tough adjustment to civilian life.
Gaye sang about the pain of drug addiction on “Flyin’ High (In the Friendly Sky)” and the horrors of the ghetto on “Inner City Blues (Make Me Wanna Holler).” “Mercy Mercy Me (The Ecology)” is one of the earliest and most effective songs about environmental concerns. “God Is Love” and “Wholy Holy” are sincere expressions of faith and brought Gaye back to his gospel roots.
What’s Going On is a sophisticated blend of jazz, R&B, and pop, and Gaye brought in players to help him realize his musical vision. He also used members of the legendary Motown session band, the Funk Brothers. For the first time in the label’s history, a Motown album listed the musicians who contributed to it.
Kevin Gray cut the lacquer for the two-LP anniversary edition of What’s Going On from 2022. That’s the way to go. It costs US$39, and Gray knows how to cut a good LP. The other version that’s still in print is US$30, but it’s a single LP and gets mixed reviews for sound. I have an original pressing and the out-of-print Mobile Fidelity Lab reissue from 2009. The MoFi is outstanding, but copies now fetch US$150 and up. Clean originals are also costly.
Classical
Glenn Gould: Bach: The Goldberg Variations (1956)
I don’t write about classical music because I don’t feel I have the qualifications to evaluate it properly. I know what I like, though. Jonathan Cott interviewed pianist Glenn Gould in 1974 for Rolling Stone. This seemed like an unusual choice for a rock magazine, but it sparked my curiosity about Gould, and over the years I picked up a handful of LPs and two volumes of the multi-LP Glenn Gould Legacy set.
Bach: The Goldberg Variations was Gould’s debut for Columbia records in 1956. He recorded the piece in June 1955, three months before he turned 23. The label had some concerns about Gould recording it as a debut. It was not widely played and was rarely recorded. But Gould’s performance led to its popularity with other classical pianists and established him as a star in classical music. Bach: The Goldberg Variations became Columbia’s biggest-selling classical release.
Gould, a child prodigy, was able to handle the demands of the composition. In fact, he played it at a quick tempo and edited it to avoid some repeated sections. The music never feels rushed, however, and it’s in the hands and mind of a musician who has absorbed and internalized it. Gould’s technique is so sure that every note flows easily, ringing out clearly and sustaining into the next note, even in the quickest passages.
Other pianists have recorded the Goldberg Variations, including Angela Hewitt (1999), David Fray (2021), and Víkingur Ólafsson (2023). All are skilled pianists and bring something to each of their interpretations, but Gould’s has an emotional depth that reaches out to me. Gould himself returned to the piece in the studio the year before he died. He plays it at a slower tempo and includes the repeat passages he had skipped earlier.
One of Gould’s eccentricities was to hum the melodies as he played, and you can hear them faintly in his recordings. When I hear them, I think of Keith Jarrett’s solo improvisations on piano, where he also hums and lets out shouts of glee. Another Gould trait was to lean over the keyboard in much the same way as Bill Evans. Gould admired Evans, who began recording about the same time he did. I can’t find any comments about Gould by Jarrett, but some of his phrasing and his confidence in the swift passages in his improvisations suggest to me that he listened to Gould, especially the earlier Goldberg Variations.
The LP of this recording that has been available since 2015 gets mixed but mostly poor reviews. Most of the complaints seem to be about the quality of the pressing, but that’s especially important for a solo-piano recording. Original copies are expensive, and even re-pressings done through the mid-’60s are salty. Avoid the late-’60s remastered-for-stereo copies. Pressings from the ’70s and ’80s should be good, and they’ll be affordable, even in M-condition.
Next steps
The recordings I’ve listed are the foundation for an LP library—just a start. Any serious collection will want to take in the history of a particular genre. Chuck Berry’s The Great Twenty-Eight and Elvis Presley’s A Boy from Tupelo: The Sun Masters should be a part of any rock collection. Louis Armstrong’s Hot Five and Hot Seven recordings form the basis for any jazz library, along with any number of Duke Ellington releases. Soul-music lovers will want Sam Cooke’s releases, and I haven’t even touched on the blues, which influenced rock, jazz, and soul.
You’re just at the beginning. Happy collecting!
. . . Joseph Taylor
josepht@soundstagenetwork.com
