The 8th track on "Fabulous Twilight" is my ode to the (in)famous Columbia House Record Club, and to generations of kids like me who, for a single penny, received 10 albums — and became rabid LP collectors for life. When I first played the song for Pete Thomas, who is not only a marvelous drummer but a man with an uncanny ability to detect musical influences, he exclaimed, “Martin Mull and His Fabulous Furniture in Your Living Room,” an album I wore out as a teen but did not name-check in the song. Kids, remember to read the fine print, and vinyl maniacs unite!

God Bless the Columbia House Record Club

One particularly sticky N.Y. summer, I worked at 1133 Ave. of the Americas in the offices of Project 3, the record label owned by my grandfather, Enoch Light. Every day, I would grab as many packaged LPs as my scrawny teenaged arms could carry and head to the post office on 42nd Street between 8th and 9th Avenues, past the hustlers and streetwalkers and movie theaters with double bills like “Three the Hard Way” and “Mr. Majestyk” while a sweet cacophony of taxi horns and transistor radios tuned to Top 40 stations rang in my ears.  Paradise!  

In “1133,” I can hear echoes of the vocal groups my grandfather produced (with a musical nod to the amazing Free Design), my admiration for Gary McFarland's vocalese, and a longing for a faraway time.

1133 Ave. Of The Americas (For Enoch Light)

I was listening to a collection of doo-wop groups when I heard “Village of Love,” a 1962 hit by Nathaniel Mayer and the Fabulous Twilights. Not only was I struck by the song and sentiment, but by the notion of a person’s golden years as a fabulous twilight. On the day of recording, I shared some vocal ideas with Arnold McCuller, who transformed them into the glorious backgrounds you are about to hear, layering harmony upon harmony until he created his own doo-wop group — The Fabulous Arnolds!

Jon Klages