This card arrived via snail mail a few days after its announced start date (no fault of the USPS; that was the Jazz Record Mart’s long-standing M. O.).


Alas, the business closed fifteen days before the sale was to have ended.


No more

  • free “brunches” on Sunday mornings during free festivals
  • suburban teen musicians commuting in to work at the store
  • impromptu film festivals
  • visits by gods of the music, in town for gigs
  • massive moves to a new address a block away every few years
  • beat-up vintage posters
  • newsletters in desperate need of proofreading (Lord knows, we tried)
  • (got another one? Send it in!)

Update: we were on the Left Coast when JRM went to heaven, and repeated e-mails did not get a rise out of the ghost, so we contacted the family’s record company. They sent the CD of our choice and the difference. Everybody else goes to heaven as well.




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