It seems at this point pointless to declare oneself in the matter of analog vs. digital culture. Compact discs, whose sole salutary aspect is their compactness, provide an efficient, durable information-delivery system. But as recording media go, they're about as cool as dictation cassettes. Long-playing record albums, on the other hand, are pretty boss. In the basement of Euclid Records Vinyl Shack is the Jazz Hole, in which are records, a lot of records. In fact, the place is that rarest of spaces: a site of commerce so suffused with the goodness of its product that capital flows overhead without disturbing the vibe below. And what grooves. For all the Leonard Feather Presents ... and Jazz Goes to University, there are, within reach, records of a revolutionary character. A recent visit turned up a promo copy of the Arista Freedom Sampler, containing radio-friendly (sure) cuts from Charles Tolliver and Marion Brown; some Nat Hentoff-produced Cecil Taylor sessions; scads of Base Record reissues of ESP-Disk sides and a few Get Back editions of same; and an inexplicable three copies of the second volume of Sam Rivers' Wildflower compilations. Or you could just download your music. How cool.