Excavated Shellac

This is a gallery of photos featuring the broken records I have received over the past two years - a small percentage of the music that has arrived safe and sound. But still. Some aren’t that rare, some are quite possibly irreplaceable. There’s no point ranting about it again. The winner this year: the record that turned up in the mailbox wrapped once with a paper towel. This visual display should suffice in lieu of outward rage:

First row (l-r):
1. Auvergne cabrette solo, ca. early 1930s, hairline crack
2. Early West African high life, ca. mid-1930s, split in half
3. Spanish folk song from Navarro, ca. 1940s, cracked in half

Second row (l-r):
1. Asturian folk with gaita, ca. early 1930s, shattered
2. Several Brazilian folk records, ca. late 1940s, in pieces
3. Moroccan music, ca. mid-1940s, broken in half

Third row (l-r):
1. Lidya Mendoza record, ca. late 1930s, hairline crack
2. Cousin Emmy country record, late 40s, shattered
3. Canary Islands folk song, ca. 1940s, multiple cracks

Fourth row (l-r):
1. Nyanja music from Malawi, ca. 1940s, hairline crack
2. Flamenco by La Nina, ca. 1915-1920, cracked in half
3. Turkish female song, ca. 1928, hairline crack

Fifth row (l-r):
1. North Iranian/Central Asian music, ca. 1930s, in pieces
2. Galician bagpipe record, 1900s, multiple cracks
3. Tahitian music on Mareva label ca. 1940s, hairline crack

And last:
1. Galician bagpipe music, ca. 1910s, multiple cracks

If you’ve encountered 78 rpm records from across North Africa including Egypt, you’ve probably run across the phenomena of the spoken introduction. A voice - not the voice of the performer, generally - states the name of the record company and the artist, and then the music begins. The announcement always begins with the Arabic word for Gramophone record, or disc, which I have seen transliterated in CDs as “istwanat” (or ”astwanat,” and also “estwanat” depending on the accent), which is then followed by the name of the record company. These brief, sonically beautiful little announcements appear on many - but not all - 78s from the region, and even on mid-century Arab-American 78 recordings on labels such as Alamphon.

Why? Most likely because of the strong oral tradition in North African and Arab culture. I’ve edited a very brief collage of them for download, where you’ll hear announcements for Pathé, Polyphon, Pacific, and others. Loop this, and listen to it repeatedly before sleeping, like The Conet Project. Like voices from outer space, they have traveled long distances especially for your ears.

Istwanat

Some stickers and stamps from ancient 78rpm record shops, found on records and sleeves…