The guy left of me
smells kind of funky. Like he’s just stepped out of a closet in which he has
been smoking cigarettes for the past 30 years or so without a shower. He is
currently flipping through the crate labeled “English pub rock” with such a
frenzy that I almost start to worry that he will have a heart attack any
moment. Suddenly his face cracks up in a smile and he pulls up the 1978
compilation album “Don’t Mind Rockin’ Tonight” by Ducks Delux and he pays the
dude whatever it says on the price tag and disappears into the crowded isle.
She has dreads and Doc
Martens. She doesn’t smell strange. Fully concentrated on flipping’ through the
heap of stuff filed under “New wave/punk” she represents the minority of women
in the venue with style. The amount of bags with records in her hand when she
leaves reveals that she is an avid record collector. It’s all vinyl.
“I only want AC/DC albums with red labels”
says the guy dressed in denim vest and an AC/DC bootleg tour t-shirt. He also
smells funny. “You know, Australian or New Zealand pressings” he continues to
explain to the bearded guy behind the table who has a slightly uninterested
look on his face. He has been through all this before. The AC/DC guy babbles on
about all the red label records he has collected over the years. A kid tries to
buy a copy of “Back In Black” and the AC/DC guy gets a superior look on his
face. “That’s a European pressing. It’s not a red label.” The teenaged kid
looks confused but the bearded guy behind the table says to the kid: “Don’t
mind him. It’s a kick ass album. Enjoy.” and puts the record in a plastic bag.
I get a text message
from my old man. “Buy any these if you see them” it says.It’s a list of the few Frank Zappa records
that he still misses from the official discography. He got the rest of them.
They are all original first pressings worth a fortune that he bought when they
were released. It’s just eight of them to go before the collection is complete.
I find one of them: “Absolutely Free” from 1967 in a bad shape and much
overpriced. Sorry dad. No buy.
I never made a list
for stuff to look for when I visit the record fair. Well I have one in my head
I guess. But I have never put it on paper.I am digging my way through table after table of crates hoping to
stumble upon That Record.I always check
the section for Metallica and thrash metal. And I always buy at least one album
with Misfits or Bad Religion from that guy down in the right corner. It’s a
tradition. And I buy the albums that I didn’t get to buy back in the days
trying to create my youth I guess. I think that is what many of us do when we
go to the record fair. We want to find that picture disc that we remember
seeing on the wall in the record store back in 1987. And we want to build that
ultimate record collection with complete discographies with our favorite bands
to illustrate our own lives. But the collection will fortunately never get
complete. There is too much music to discover in the crates and too little time
and money to get it all.
Accidentally ends up
at a guy who sells 1960’s and early 1970’s jazz on vinyl. Miles at his best,
John and Alice Coltrane records in those awesome Impulse! editions with orange
and black backs on the sleeve. Lord, have mercy on my wallet.I could buy these just for the covers. My
friend Johnny Boy passes by with a smile on his face stating that he will be
eating noodles the rest of the month. He only buys obscure ska, early 1980’s
hardcore and strange oi!-punk on 7-inch singles. We all have our vices.
Speaking of vices. I just need to check that crate that says “Swedish kraut rock” before I go home.And maybe check out that dude over there who sells soul records. And maybe the heavy metal vendor over there…
-The Void
