Nick was key.

No indie label can survive without the love and support of friends and family. In my case, that first line of sustenance came from my friend Nick Moy.

A classical music announcer at WKCR and a couple of years older than me, Nick had a razor sharp intellect, a dry martini wit, and a musical breadth that included everyone from Wolfgang Mozart to Art Blakey to Parliment. He watched at a distance while I futzed around with Oblivion’s first two records and sat patiently with great advice while I prepared the third in his apartment. Things really kicked in when we became roomates in the middle of 1973.

Nick became one of the key Oblivion conseillers. From music to graphics to our stupid business ‘decisions’ Nick was a foil for all sorts of moments in our short history. He attended every session he could, always with words of encouragement. As a mainstream, hard bop fan he was a particularly enthusiastic champion of Joe Lee Wilson, and I’ve got to say we really released that session on the heels his ardor for that superior set.

We went out scouting acts together with thoughtful discussion afterward with Tom and I worrying over whether or not someone met our standards. Nick was an audiophile, and needless to say, his sonic standards influenced the ways we struggled (pretty unsuccessfully) to capture sound in a way that would satisfy his discerning ears.

And all that’s to say nothing of the meals and cash he spotted me for all those years.

An independent record label recording blues and jazz wasn’t as common in the 1970s as it is today. It was more expensive, technologically more primitive and complicated, and more of a passion play. And, at least the way we did, you lost money. Without a great pal like Nick Moy, Oblivion never would have gotten out of the gate. Thanks bud.