Record Store Tales

#931: Our Arsenal

A prequel to #796:  Improvisation

RECORD STORE TALES #931: Our Arsenal

One of the greatest joys of youth was improvising.  What continues today with music and tech, started back then with toys.  We made our own games with what we had.  Bored with the toys already sitting in the basement, we simply invented new ones of our own.  Board games using army men as the pieces, or Star Wars playsets made of shoeboxes.  We did it out of boredom and necessity.  Kenner didn’t make a Cloud City playset, and even if they did it would be too large and expensive.  Instead we made one ourselves, complete with sliding carboard pocket doors.  It had multiple levels and was scaled to work with Kenner figures.

At the cottage, the need to improvise was multiplied.  We couldn’t count on TV for entertainment, with only two channels.  We could not bring all our toys and games with us to the lake.  Therefore we had to have fun with what we had.  For the first 10 years or so, the cottage was under constant construction.  Rooms were not finished all at once, but a little bit each year.  Same with exterior elements like porches and sheds.  That meant there was always scrap wood, nails and a hammer available.

I recently dug up some of our cottage improvisations.  They date back 35-40 years.  These haven’t seen the light of day in so long, that there was also an abandoned nest of some kind in the box.  Unsurprisingly, given my early penchant for being a Tony-Stark like arms dealer, all these home-made toys are built for war!

First up are my weapons.  My dad made me a bow and arrow when I was a kid.  The bow broke but he kept it along with one of my arrows.  I can see where I taped a little fin on the arrow.  The arrows were not sharpened; there were no tips.  It was just to see how far I could shoot them.  Not far!  You couldn’t really hurt anyone.

Also in the weapons locker was my old tomahawk.  I found the perfect stone and branch, lashed them together, and voila!  35 years later my tomahawk is still intact.  I can’t believe this stuff wasn’t burned up for firewood ages ago.

Next, and ripe for a tetanus infection, is our little flotilla of battleships.  We always had offcuts hanging around.  These look to be made of tongue-and-groove panelling.  Decent toy boats were always hard to find.  They were either super fragile, or leaked and sank.  Our boats always floated and were armed to the teeth.  Look at the all the guns!  Rotating turrets too.  My sister’s boats weren’t as sophisticated as mine.  She got into the boat making game too, adding her own graphics and designs.  We brought these boats down to the water and had some pretty fun adventures.  And nobody got hurt on the rusty nails.

Finally, we had some plastic beach cars and trucks that we always had a blast with in the sand.  We built roads and bridges.  I found plain old cars a little more boring than my sister did, so I took things into my own hands.  I got my favourite yellow pickup truck, and armor plated it.  My mom gave me hell for using too much tinfoil.  “Expensive!” she would always remind me.   But I had to take my time and get it right.  I had to do it twice.  The idea was to leave no Scotch tape visible on the outside.  At the end I had a shiny silver armored pickup truck.  And amazingly enough, some of that armor plate is still on the truck.   It was combat ready.  I always thought it would be cool if I could find a little helicopter to hang out in the truck bed, but I never did.

I found these old toys sitting in a cardboard box in the shed when I was looking for dry firewood.  Of course there was no way I could burn these up.  The battleship, which I have now dubbed Bismarck, might even float again one day.  They’ll never sink the Bismarck!

#930 Pour Some Sugar On ’88

RECORD STORE TALES #930: Pour Some Sugar On ’88

Ah, 16!  The age you’re supposed to get your driver’s license and go on dates with girls.  Maybe even get a part time job.  Except I did none of that.

The summer of 1988 was much like any summer.  It was marked by new music, trips to the cottage, and another visit from Captain Destructo, my cousin Geoff.  Predator was in the movie theaters and WWF wrestling was hot.  Summer was not going to suck.

Super Mario on the NES

I was well tanned from days at the beach, and when Geoff and family rolled into the cottage that July, Geoff brought his new toy:  a Nintendo Entertainment System (NES).  This was a whole new world for us.  I had never seen Super Mario Brothers or Mike Tyson’s Punch-Out.  I sure saw a lot of them when Geoff came to visit.  Saw.  Not played.  I played a little bit, but Geoff monopolised the game.  I’ll never forget when he was playing Punch-Out and he was down to the second last boxer.  He thought he was going to knock him out and move on to Mike Tyson.  However my dad walked in front of the screen, Geoff started screaming, and lost the game.  You would have thought he lost the invasion at Normandy for all the fuss.  Me, I just would have liked another turn at the game.

Video games were exciting, but nothing was better than playing outside.  With Predator hot in the cinemas, and lots of plastic guns to play with, we scattered into the forest hunting for the stealthy alien.  Geoff insisted he was Dutch (Arnold Schwarzenegger).  That made me Blain (Jesse Ventura).  We forced my sister Kathryn to play Hawkins (Shane Black), the worst character and first one to die in the film.  Eventually we let her play Billy the tracker (Sonny Landham).

I love how this trailer gives away the whole movie.

Leaping, dodging, climbing.  We owned that forest.

There is so much joy running through the woods with plastic guns pretending to hunt a space alien.  And the best part was, in the movie the Predator was invisible for most of the time:  we didn’t need anybody to play the bad guy.  It didn’t take much imagination to pretend to see movement in the forest.  We were a team of three on a quest.  I know that this is one of the happiest summer memories for all three of us.

After a few days at the lake, we returned home to Kitchener, with Geoff still in tow.  We hung out in the basement watching WWF and the Pepsi Power Hour.  Cinderella were hot with “Gypsy Road” and I had to get that album.  Long Cold Winter was an odd title for a summer album, but it was most definitely a summer album.  I could not wait to get it but I had a birthday coming and I wasn’t allowed to buy stuff for myself until after.

For what was probably the last time, we went with Geoff to his grandfather’s huge property for an afternoon in the pool.  One last splash, in the bright figure-8 shaped pool.  That giant pond behind us in the background.  Maintaining that summer tan.

The three big albums for me that summer were Long Cold Winter by Cinderella, Second Sighting by Ace Frehley, and Ram It Down by Judas Priest.  I loved it for all its flaws.  It was heavy and I thought it had five potential single-worthy songs:  “Ram It Down”, “Heavy Metal”, “Hard As Iron”, and “Blood Red Skies”, in addition to the already-released “Johnny B. Goode”.  Only the Chuck Berry cover made it to music video form.  I waited all summer for a music video for “Blood Red Skies” to finally hit.  I could always predict the next single, and I just knew it had to be “Blood Red Skies”.  Week after week, I waited. I dreaded missing it during vacation at the cottage.  I just knew it would be any week now.  I had a dream one night of what it would look like.  There Priest were on the bridge of some kind of spaceship, hovering over the landscape beneath the blood red skies.  It never came.  I thought if Priest released a video for “Blood Red Skies”, it would chart.  Into the fall, Priest never released another single.  A disappointment and a mistake.

Into August, I finally got my copy of Cinderella.  After one listen correctly predicted that “Don’t Know What You Got (‘Til It’s Gone)” would be the second video.  I always looked forward to the new videos by bands, but like Judas Priest, Frehley disappointed me by never releasing a second video for Second Sighting.  I thought there were a number of potential hits, such as “Fallen Angel”, “Time Ain’t Running Out”, “New Kind of Lover” and “Juvenile Delinquent”.

In Stratford, visiting my Aunt and Uncle, I picked up Live + 1, also by Ace Frehley.  The Space Ace had two releases in 1988, with one being a live/studio EP.  This weekend was the first time I experienced strong insomnia.  I remember tossing and turning the entire night, not falling asleep once for even a minute.  Seeing the sun come up.  I was getting more and more upset that I couldn’t sleep, which made it worse.

Another cassette picked up that summer in Stratford was High ‘N’ Dry, which became an immediate favourite.  Def Leppard were the biggest band in the world that summer.  Hysteria was selling like hotcakes.  It didn’t take off in ’87, but when “Pour Some Sugar On Me” hit, that was all it took.  Many nights were spent listening to the radio at the lake, waiting for “Pour Some Sugar On Me”.  Hysteria‘s singles were harder to predict.  I didn’t expect there to be seven of them, but I definitely thought “Love and Affection” would make it before “Rocket” did.

We visited with our friends the Szabos, we played games, and we listened to a lot of music.  I had my heavy metal, my sister had Glass Tiger and was starting to get into Def Leppard.  Our Walkmen came with us everywhere.  As the summer drew to an end we made a trip up to Tobermory to take the S.S. Chi-Cheemaun to Manitoulin island.  I loved boats and islands but the trip was a bit of a bore.  The gift shop didn’t have a lot to keep us entertained.  I bought one of those black and white wrestling magazines, and a wooden postcard to send to nobody.  It took a while for me to get my sea legs.  I felt nauseous and wasn’t sure I could eat.  Eventually the rocking of the boat became fun.  The wind on the top deck was exactly like the “Jack, I’m flying!” scene in Titanic.

There was more, much more, but who can remember it all?  Watching Rob Halford interviewed on the Pepsi Power Hour, recording it, and watching it over and over again.  Seeing new Van Halen (“When It’s Love”) on TV.  Suffering through rumours of Kiss breaking up.  Looking for the latest Def Leppard 7″ singles at Zellers.  So many memories, jumbled and out of order, hard to keep all straight.

The summer ended on a high, but what I didn’t know is that was only a precursor to my happiest school year, grade 11.  Hair metal was peaking but it was about to get even bigger in ’89.  Everything was in sync.  Summer, music, school — all extraordinary in 1988.

#929: “The Neanderthal Flute”

RECORD STORE TALES #929:  “The Neanderthal Flute”

When Beethoven invented music in 334 BC, he had no idea we would owe him a debt of gratitude over two millennia later.   When his friend, Presley of Elvis, heard this wonderful sound, he decided to pin some strings to a piece of wood and created the first guitar.

That’s how it all started right?  Beethoven, Bach, Elvis, the Beatles?

Music has likely been with us since the dawn of abstract thought.  Ancient evidence is difficult to find, since most musical instruments would have decayed to nothing over tens of thousands of years.  Without physical remains, an “invention” of music is difficult to date.  Even musical notation came much later.  According to Dr. Kathryn Ladano at Wilfrid Laurier University, those who played ancient music “were improvisers. Improvisation has to be the oldest and first form of music, before anything was written or passed down in the oral tradition.”

The oldest musical artefacts we have are flutes made of bone.   The most ancient of these could be the 45,000 year old Divje Babe flute, discovered in Slovenia in 1995.  It was dated using the Electron Spin Resonance (ESR) technique.  The bone is commonly called the “Neanderthal flute” but there is no consensus on who made it…if anyone.   If indeed it is a flute, it would be the oldest known musical instrument ever found.

There are other, younger known bone flutes, but the Divje Babe femur would be the most ancient found by far.  What we do know with certainty is very little.  It has never appeared on a Jethro Tull album for one thing, which is truly unfortunate.  The Divje Babe flute is a broken juvenile cave bear bone, with two clear holes, and possibly the remains of two more at either broken end.  Bones with holes in them are common.  Rather than a flute, it could just be a fluke – a piece of bear femur, pierced by the teeth of a predator.

We have theories.  Was the bone just left as-is by an animal?  Both ends are damaged, probably by a predator looking for the tasty marrow inside.  Tests were made with metal castings of various predator teeth.  The hole alignment does not match any known animal’s teeth, but the holes could have been made at different times rather than simultaneously.  Canadian musicologist Bob Fink thinks it unlikely that such a situation would result in four holes in a straight line.  Tests also showed that bones often broke when trying to duplicate an animal bite.  Finally, we can’t rule out that the holes could be a modern hoax, nor can we rule out Ian Anderson as a suspect.

As humans, we hope the bone is the first known musical instrument and there is some evidence to support that.  For one, the bone appears to be cleaned of marrow, since the inner and outer surfaces are the same colour.  This would be necessary if it were a flute.  The holes are also quite circular, which is unlike most oval-shaped bite holes.  There are no marks on the bottom of the bone, which you would expect if it was between an animal’s jaws.  It takes a lot of pressure to bite a hole in a bear femur.  However there are also no tool marks, which are common on actual man-made bone flutes.

Here’s the most interesting evidence, if not the most compelling.  According to Fink, the four holes line up with the “do, re, mi, fa” of the diatonic scale.  Can you imagine?  45,000 years ago, somebody playing “do re mi” on a bone flute.  Perhaps for ceremonial, religious reasons.  Maybe just to entertain the tribe with a hit song.  Binding communities together, person by person.  Expanding the capabilities of the human brain one note at a time.  The same scale we play today.*

Before you get too excited about the possibilities, the bone is a juvenile cave bear and would not have been very long even before it was broken.  One study (by Nowell and Chase) indicates that the bone would have had to be twice its natural length to play the diatonic scale.  Fink countered this with the possibility of an added mouthpiece that extended its length.

Why not use modern technology to create a replica flute and try to play it?  In 2011, Matija Turk and  Ljuben Dimkaroski did just that.   Their study showed “it was possible to perform a series of musical articulations and ornamentations such as legato, staccato, double and triple tonguing, flutter-tonguing, glissando, chromatic scales, trills, broken chords, interval leaps, and melodic successions from the lowest to the highest tones.”  Furthermore Dimkaroski found that a longer bone was not necessary to play music.  The reconstructed instrument had a three and a half octave range and was less like a flute and more akin to modern woodwinds.

One of the most fascinating aspects of the flute is that it could have been made by our Neanderthal cousins, which would prove that music is a trait shared by two species and not just ours.  Even if the bone really was carved by Neanderthals, there is no way for us to know for certain.  It could have been left in the cave much later on by a wandering human.

We do not have all the answers yet, but the possibility of the same musical scale that we use today being at least 45,000 years old is an enticing one.  It sets the imagination on fire with possibilities.  You could go back in time and play “Heartbreak Hotel” on this ancient flute in that dark cave, if the theories hold true.  What an incredible thought that is.

 

* Dr. Ladano notes, “Even if it didn’t match with the western major or minor tonal system, it isn’t any less valid. Other cultures use different scales and maybe the maker of this flute used a different scale system as well.”

#927: Red Sun, Red Meat, Ready to Rock

RECORD STORE TALES #927: Red Sun, Red Meat, Ready to Rock

When the city traffic finally abated and we were on our way, only then did we begin to enjoy the music.

We had an historic soundtrack for both the trips to and from the lake.  On Thursday night for the drive up we enjoyed:

2021’s musical selections are strong.  Lee Aaron proved she has the album necessary for a good-time summer, and Polychuck played well in the car.  ZZ Top was obviously spun in tribute to the late great Dusty Hill.  When Afterburner concluded, we played “I Got the Six”, and “Sharp Dressed Man”.

On the Sunday drive home, Jen slept while I got nostalgic for the year 1989 with:

  • Aerosmith – Pump
  • Motley Crue – Dr. Feelgood

My feelings this time out were that Dr. Feelgood is tremendously overrated while Pump is not.  Pump is solid and probably the last time Aerosmith nailed it front to back.

On the front deck this weekend, I spun a lot of music.  Most notably Guns N’ Roses’ new song “Absurd” about six times in a row.  I also listened to a new album by group out of Halifax called War & Sin that you will be hearing about.  The album is called The War Within and it hits all the bases, like good heavy metal with diverse influences.  The singer reminds me of Blaze Bayley, but in a good way.  You can check out the album on iTunes.

I had a couple good fires this weekend, and the soundtrack of Kiss went well in that setting.  A cottage weekend without Kiss just isn’t right for my soul.  This weekend I chose Dressed to Kill and Destroyer.  I brought the laptop over to the fireplace and let Kiss do the rest.

It was a solid three day weekend anchored by music, fire, food and swimming.  On Saturday I believe I went for five swims total.  The last was a sunset swim and we got some pretty cool video footage that you can now enjoy with me.

#926: The Things We Took For Granted

RECORD STORE TALES #926 The Things We Took For Granted

The regular car trip to the lake was either tremendous fun or terrible torture.  It all depended on what kind of mood I was in, I guess.  I’d pester my sister and my dad would threaten to pull over.  Or, I’d be occupied reading a novel or comic.

If we were lucky, the trip would start at McDonalds.  I would always get two cheeseburgers.  Those slippery little burgers were always so good.  I could eat about 10 in a row right about now.

Keeping two kids entertained on a two hour drive isn’t easy but my parents did a good job.  First there was the radio. When Mom wasn’t listening to the ball game, my dad would put on something more entertaining.  In the 70s, it was the Star Wars radio drama.  Later on it was CBC and the pre-TV Royal Canadian Air Farce, or the science show Quirks & Quarks hosted first by David Suzuki, and later by Jay Ingram.

My dad took advantage of my early fascination with maps to keep me occupied.  He would pull out the road map, show our route, and have me track our progress.  He helped me memorize the way to the lake:  Dorking, Listowel, Molesworth, left turn at Bluevale, then Wingham, Whitechurch, Lucknow, a right at Amberley and finally Kincardine.  Thirst would kick in mid-way (probably from all that McDonalds) so a regular stop was made at this lonely pop machine in the middle of Lucknow.  Lucknow used to be the deadest of towns, not that it is very happening now, but it used to be you’d never see a soul there.  But they had this one pop machine in the middle of town.  Just as it was starting to get dark, Dad would pull over in Lucknow and get me a pop to tide me over.  Eventually that road map became too tattered and torn, but that’s how I learned to get to the lake from home.

Upon the advent of the Walkman, my sister and I were better able to entertain ourselves.  Two and a half tapes were what it took to get you from home to the lake.  We had to remember fresh batteries.  Remember those awful Walkman earphones?  It seemed all you could get were those terrible foam-padded rinky-dink things that came free with every player.  The wires were always shorting out to mono and you couldn’t keep those things secure on your head.  Not to mention the quality of the tapes and players could afford.  But it kept us entertained.  We didn’t know any better.

Those crap kind of earphones!

Every time we went to the lake as kids, I felt a certain pang for home.  When we were there for any significant time, there were things I hated about being away.  I missed my friends, my Atari games, my GI Joes, my comics.  I missed well-kept green city grass to lie down on, not the stony sandy lawns at the lake.  I missed cable TV and the good stores with all the cool stuff you couldn’t get in the country.  We didn’t appreciate what we did have in the country.  So it was no surprise, when I got old enough, that I stayed home more and more often.  There was a trial run in grade 10 when they left me home one Sunday, while they went up for a day and back in the evening.  I think I spent it working on my cardboard air guitar.

In August of 1991 my parents let me stay home for two weeks alone while they went to the lake.   And it was actually pretty awesome.

I had all kinds of plans.  Movie nights every night, with snacks.  I went to my friend Peter’s house, who had a massive VHS collection from working at Steve’s TV, and I borrowed at least a dozen films.  I remember two impactful flicks: Tremors and The Abyss.  Tremors was an enjoyable popcorn movie, but I was blown away by The Abyss.  I couldn’t wait to tell my sister about this cool science fiction movie I discovered.  It had a reputation as a flop.  It defied expectations  A surprisingly excellent movie.

I had enough food to eat like a king for a week, plus pop and chips.  I checked out late night television.  I discovered the Metal Mike show.  I listened to music in the living room, not just my bedroom.  My dad usually monopolised entertainment in the house.  The TV remote was his.  The VCR was under his jurisdiction.  To have all this time to myself, and have movie nights and watch TV shows I’d never seen before, was exciting.  Plus I’d get to tape stuff from Pepsi Power Hour that week while it was still on the air.

I did have one ulterior motive.  There was a girl I like named Tracey.  I was introduced to Tracey by a school friend.  I had a limited amount of summer left to try and hang out with her.  She was playing hard to get.  I was determined to get some time with her while I was home.  Finally she committed to a date.  We met up at Stanley Park Mall and walked from there to my place to watch music videos.  And that was about it.  I remember she liked the looks of Mike Howe from Metal Church.  That was the most memorable thing about that day with Tracey.  Watching the Pepsi Power Hour, and her liking Mike Howe.  I distinctly remember they were covering the Operation Rock & Roll tour with Alice Cooper, Judas Priest, Motorhead, Metal Church and Dangerous Toys.  That would have made it the week of August 19, 1991.  Toronto was the final date on the tour, and infamously the last Judas Priest show before Rob Halford quit to go solo.  MuchMusic had an interview by Michael Williams with Rob, pre-accident.  Yes, pre-accident:  Rob hit his head on a lighting truss, riding his motorcycle out on stage during the opening number “Hell Bent For Leather”.

Mike Howe

The chance to hang out with Tracey was the main reason I stayed home that August, but regardless of the obsession with Mike Howe, not Ladano, I had an amazing time.  School was starting soon, and I’d be entering a new world at Wilfrid Laurier University, where I knew nobody and had no idea what to expect.  The remaining days of summer were a cherished time.  Every last moment was savoured.

I spent the balance of my time alone walking to the mall, checking out music, and just enjoying having the house.  I relished being able to play my music as loudly as I wanted, and stay up late every night, checking out whatever happened on TV after that hour.  The barbecue made many, many hot dogs.  I’m sure they made me do stuff like mow the lawn while they were gone.  I did all the dishes by hand because I didn’t know how to use the dishwasher!  I might even have done laundry.  I wasn’t bored!  But I missed them and was glad when they got home.

After all I had to tell them all about The Abyss!

#925: A Tribute to Gozer the Gozerian

RECORD STORE TALES #925: A Tribute to Gozer the Gozerian

Our first dog was Crystal.  Somehow, because my dad is who he is, that name eventually metamorphosed into “Gozer”.  My dad just does that and you have to hope to understand what he’s really talking about.  But Crystal was called Gozer in the end, which of course is the name of the evil demon at the end of Ghostbusters.  Gozer the Gozerian.  Named after a Class 7 apparition.  The way she goes.

I have some good footage of Gozer with a rockin’ soundtrack that I took in June 1990.  I was home alone on summer holidays and my sister was about to graduate.  So, we rented a video camera.  We had it for 24 hours, and I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity, being on holidays.  This is my earliest solo filmmaking!  And you can hear what I was listening to on the tape deck that beautiful June day.

Summer holidays, man. Listening to rock music on a ghetto blaster on the front porch. Hanging out with my dog in the sun. Being creative, making movies. Trying to do a shot like John Fogerty’s “The Old Man Down the Road”.  Doing fades.  Crash-zooms and close-ups.  Animating a pair of scissors.

Gozer didn’t like that many people besides Mom.  I’m not even sure if Gozer liked me all that much. You can kind of tell from the video that she’d rather just be left to lounge in the sun. But we had good times and I’m lucky we have video footage of Gozer the Gozerian.  The only reason we do is because my sister was graduating, we wanted to rent a camera, and I was on summer holidays with the dog.  My mom used to think I wasted a lot of batteries and tape with that camera.  I beg to differ.

Rest in peace Gozer!

 

#924.5: Rippin’

RECORD STORE TALES #924.5:  Rippin’ 

It’s a long weekend here in Canada, and since we’re stuck in Kitchener instead of the lake this time, I spent my Saturday ripping music to hard drive.  And then backing up that hard drive to about five other devices.  I’ve been slowly but surely putting my collection on the ol’ PC for years now, in spurts.  Huge catalogues of bands have gone un-ripped due to negligence.  It’s fun to do when I’m looking for something to listen to that I haven’t heard in a while.

Right now I’m working on my Soundgarden.  Most of my Soundgarden was sitting there on the  shelves unloved until now.  Before that, I updated my Nine Inch Nails folder with all my CDs.  Apparently I was collecting NIN right up to The Slip (2008), although I missed a few albums like The Fragile and Ghosts.

I enjoy doing pretty mechanical tasks, like combining “part 1” and “part 2” of a CD single into one folder.  Adjusting the id3 tags.  For my “March of the Pigs” double CD, I added in an mp3 of the live music video as a bonus track.  All the while, listening to this music I haven’t played in over a decade.

Remixes are not something I’ve derived a lot of enjoyment from over the years, but bands like Nine Inch Nails flood their singles with them.   And I found myself enjoying quite a few of them.  The nine minute version of “Wish” from the Fixed EP is awesome.  Might even be my go-to version!  The “Clay” mix of “Head Like a Hole” (which is on both the “black” and “pink” versions of the single) was quite enjoyable.  And I have a lot of Nine Inch Nails it seems.  Three bootlegs too, including Purest Feeling (early versions and unreleased songs), Demos & Remixes (which includes “Supernaut”) and Woodstock ’94.  Diving back in is an adventure, listening to Trent Reznor evolve.

While I was grabbing my Prodigy Fat of the Land and “Firestarter” single, I lingered in the “P” section and pulled Elvis Presley, Praying Mantis, and Gord Prior.  Praying Mantis with Paul Di’Anno and Dennis Stratton, in fact.  A lot of Maiden covers that just remind me that nobody sounds like Iron Maiden.  Nobody.  I’ll probably get more enjoyment from the Elvis 30 #1 Hits.  “Suspicious Minds” and “In the Ghetto”, oh yeah!  I know the saying goes “There are only two kinds of people, Beatles people and Elvis people”.  I’m a Beatles guy.  That’s all the Elvis I need, I’m good with it.

Moving up into the “O” section, I realized I hadn’t touched any of my Our Lady Peace.  I don’t have a lot.  A couple singles, Naveed, Spiritual Machines, Gravity and Burn Burn Burn.  Raine Maida is admittedly an acquired taste vocally and I won’t spend any time trying to convince you, or Kevin.  Spiritual Machines is interesting for two reasons.  One, it’s a concept album about artificial intelligence, and two, I have an early copy in the rare black jewel case in perfect condition.

One thing for sure I’m noticing about these pockets of my collection.  I went big or I went home.  I have the DualDisc versions of Nine Inch Nails albums, or the CD/DVD combo sets.  I have the double CD of Badmotorfinger.  I didn’t buy the basic version of anything.  It looks like I also bought just about every single I could get my hands on.  Most of this stuff was acquired back in the Record Store days, so I had access to the rare stuff in the best condition.

Soundgarden seem to be hit or miss as far as B-sides go.  For every “Cold Bitch” there’s a “Jerry’s Garcia’s Finger”.  I see there is a super deluxe of Superunknown out there with four discs of extras.  I think I’d better just listen to what I’ve neglected before I worry about any upgrades.

Tangent:  Speaking of super deluxes, this week we were given previews for new ones from Whitesnake (Restless Heart) and Black Sabbath (Technical Ecstacy).  We have a 42 CD Judas Priest box set coming with oddles of unreleased live albums.  A Metallica “Black” album box with 14 CDs, six LPs and 6 DVDs.  There. Is. A. Lot.  It’s getting harder to pick and choose.  It’s also getting harder to find time to listen to it all.  In particular, all that DVD content.  There are not that many long weekends.

I know what my dad would say.  “Don’t you have enough music?”  Evidently!

A music collection is the kind of thing we justify by saying “It’s there for me to listen to on a rainy day.”  A long weekend home from the lake is kind of like a rainy day, so here I am enjoying the very dusty corners of my music collection.  Let’s see if these Soundgarden B-sides get any better!

 

 

#924: FU!

RECORD STORE TALES #924: FU!

What is anger?  One of the most powerful of the human emotions.  It can take over your rational mind, but it is just a mask for what is really going on in your head.  Grief, frustration, loss of control…these can all manifest as anger.

Right now, I am angry.

I’m processing a lot of information.  Earlier this week, we lost Joey Jordison of Slipknot, younger than me at age 46.  Before that it was Mike Howe of Metal Church at age 55, not much older than I am.  I didn’t let these deaths affect me.  I didn’t let the losses in.  Ignored and plowed forward.  Sometimes you can handle the shit, sometimes you can’t.  A little bit of denial got me through the days.

Then we lost Don Simmons of Helix.  This one stung because Don’s sister is a long time family friend.  We’ve known her…what, 35 years?  40?  In fact she was going to hook me up with Don for an interview.   Don was 64 and now things were hitting close to home.

Then it was ZZ Top’s Dusty Hill.  Just as long as we’ve known Don’s sister, Dusty Hill has been singing me the blues.  Rocking blues actually, but Dusty and ZZ Top have been a part of my life for so long.  Most of my life.  ZZ Top have been a standby.  Great tunes when I needed them, on demand, when I had the blues or needed a kick.  Dusty’s gone.

And then, mere hours after Dusty, as if the world needed another kick in the balls, an old friend of mine lost his wife.  Age 40.  Multiple sclerosis.  And they are good people.  They did nothing to deserve this.  I worked with him several years ago, but we kept in touch.  Good by, from Newfoundland, who loves AC/DC and Sloan.  And his wife.  She was inspiring.  Those of us touched by neurological disorders tend to feel a bond.  Whether it’s epilepsy or MS, there are many shared experiences.  I always felt like we had this in common; that we were the loving supporters of our sick wives.  So stuff like this, it hits home.  Hard.  I was sad when he moved out to Fort McMurray.  I can’t imagine what he’s going through now.  I don’t want to.

What is my anger masking?  Fear.  Grief.  Confusion.  And I’m going to have to deal with them eventually.

For my friend, in indescribably pain, a song by his favourite band.  No grief here, just rock.  I’m thinking of you.  This one’s for you man.

 

#922: Running Through Alberta (1990)

RECORD STORE TALES #922: Running Through Alberta (1990)

A long time ago, in a constitutional monarchy not far away, prices were lower.  The despised goods and services tax (GST) kicked in January 1, 1991.  This federal tax added a 7% levy to your average purchase.  In the before-fore times, in the Canadian province known as Alberta, there was no such thing as a “sales tax”.  What you saw on the sticker was what you paid.  It was an exhilarating time and place to be.  The GST wrecked that, but our last trek out west before the hated tax kicked in was nothing short of glorious.

School was out for summer, and I quit my part-time job packing groceries to hang out at the cottage and take a special trip to Calgary.  It was time for a visit with cousin Geoff, formerly known as “Captain Destructo”.  The most important things to do on any trip were two-fold:

  1. Pack appropriate music for the journey.
  2. Buy music on aforementioned journey.

I had just received two albums that were brand new to me from the Columbia House music club:  School’s Out, by Alice Cooper, and Come An’ Get It by Whitesnake.  As my newest acquisitions, they had to come along.  I also brought Steve Vai’s Passion & Warfare which I was recently obsessed with.  Finally, I carried enough cash from my job that I had just quit, to buy as much music as I could find.  Stuff that none of the stores in Kitchener had in stock.

The clear memory of driving through the mountains with School’s Out blasting in my ears brings a smile to my face.  While some moments were undeniably weird (“Gutter Cat vs. The Jets”), I couldn’t believe how catchy the album was.  I still can’t.  Alice Cooper records were not necessarily designed to deliver catchy songs.  They were twisted, and School’s Out was like a Twizzler.  Regardless, “Gutter Cat” was entertaining while being unforgettable.  I couldn’t wait to share it with my best friend Bob.  He loved cats!  Another track that took me by surprise was “Alma Mater”, but I couldn’t get it out of my head.  The fact that I’d be graduating in a year was scary.  But the roaring “Public Animal #9” just made me sing along.  I also dug “Blue Turk” although I had no idea how to categorize it.  To me it sounded like something from an old musical from days gone by.  Here I was discovering this ancient music for the first time while the Rocky Mountains zipped past me in the back seat of a minivan.  I like to appreciate moments like that.  I just stared out the window while Dennis Dunaway buzzed my ears with bass.

Next up was Whitesnake.  I still love Come An’ Get It; it’s probably my overall favourite Whitesnake.  A few songs don’t click, such as “Girl”, but lemme tell you folks — “Child of Babylon” is another one of those songs that you just have to  experience while driving through the Rockies.  Bob and I were slowly discovering old Whitesnake.  He was the first to have Saints & Sinners, but I was the first to have Come An’ Get It.  It was something of a “blind buy” for me, since I didn’t know any of the songs.  By the end of the trip, I’d already love “Wine, Women An’ Song”, “Come An’ Get It”, and “Lonely Days, Lonely Nights”.

Two favourites in the making, it was already turning into a memorable vacation.  I enjoyed shopping at corny gift shops.  I bought some goofy round sunglasses with flip-open lenses.  Alberta is dinosaur country, and so I bought a casting of a Tyrannosaurus tooth.  At another gift shop I bought a totem knick-knack.  I remember Geoffrey and I climbing the modest mountains around the hoodoos at Drumheller, and finding a cave near the top where we paused and caught some shade.

When we hit the Calgary Zoo, Geoff showed us how to put coins on the train tracks to be crushed into minature copper and nickle pancakes.  They had a little train that took tours of the park.  It ran on a regular schedule so we always knew about when we should put the coins on the track.  I had heard that copper guitar picks were the best, but they were hard to find, so I crushed a couple pennies.  I turned them into guitar picks once we got home.  We didn’t crush anything more valuable than a dime, but sometimes you’d lose the coin if it went flying off the track.  (Incidentally, you can’t derail a train with a penny, that is a myth.)  We could tell the conductor knew what we were doing and was getting annoyed, so we cut it out.

When we finally hit a music store in a Calgary mall, I was elated.  I was always on the lookout for singles, and here I found a few notable ones.  Aerosmith’s The Other Side EP was an easy “yes”.  It had a number of remixes that, while not great, were exclusives.  It also had something called the “Wayne’s World Theme” live.  What was this “Wayne’s World”?  I knew not, but it wasn’t on the album, so I was happy enough.

Poison were hot on the charts with their brand-new album Flesh & Blood.  Bob was already raving about the album, and one song he pointed out was “Valley of Lost Souls”.  I found the cassette single for “Unskinny Bop” which included this song and an instrumental pretentiously called “Swamp Juice (Soul-O)”.  I never particularly cared for “Unskinny Bop”, but it was the current Poison hit, and “Valley of Lost Souls” was as good as advertised.  I also located Jon Bon Jovi’s solo single “Blaze of Glory”.  I didn’t know it yet but this single had some slightly edited versions of the album cuts — another exclusive.

The purchase I might have been happiest with was a re-buy.  Although it seems ridiculous that at age 18 I was already re-buying albums, it had begun.  My cassette of Judas Priest’s Sad Wings of Destiny was shite.  For all intents and purposes, it only had one channel.  I owned Rocka Rolla on vinyl, but didn’t really have a good way of playing it and making it sound decent back then.  I knew there was a cassette on Attic records with both albums on one tape, and I found it in Calgary.  I was glad to finally have a copy of Sad Wings that I could properly listen to.  I even gained new appreciation for Rocka Rolla on those mountain drives.  “Caviar and Meths” sounds amazing drifting through the mountains.

Not only did we find some cool stuff we couldn’t easily locate in Ontario, but we paid no tax.  Since Alberta had no provincial sales tax, everything we were buying, we were buying cheaper!

I wanted a cowboy hat.  We went shopping for them, but I was having a hard time deciding and then Geoffrey told me about an Alberta saying.  Something about “everybody in Alberta has an asshole and a cowboy hat.”  Either that or “every asshole in Alberta has a cowboy hat.”  Same difference.  Either way, I was dissuaded.

Geoffrey could be exhausting and I really wanted nothing more than to lie down and listen to some new tunes, so I was granted a couple hours of privacy.  We traded tapes back and forth for listening.  My sister Kathryn had the new single for “Can’t Stop Falling Into Love” by Cheap Trick so I listened to that while she borrowed my Poison.

Here’s a funny detail.   For the car trip with Whitesnake and Alice Cooper, I can remember being on the left side of the vehicle.  For Rocka Rolla, I seem to remember sitting on the right.  The view was always great.  Nothing like Ontario.  The air was different, and even the weather was unusual to us.  People left their doors unlocked, we were told by Uncle Phil.

Auntie Lynda spoiled us and took us on all these day trips; it was fantastic.  It was the last great summer holiday.  I know I kept a journal of the trip, which seems to be unfortunately lost.  Great trip though it was, I looked forward to coming home and seeing my friends.  Showing off my new purchases and sharing my new music.  The flight home was uneventful and we arrived late at night and exhausted.  I didn’t sleep much that night — I had recordings of WWF wrestling matches to catch up on.  The last great summer holiday was over, but never forgotten.

#909.5: Visual Supplemental – It Was Back in the Summer of ’83, There’s a Reason I Remember It Well

RECORD STORE TALES #909.5:
Visual Supplemental
It Was Back in the Summer of ’83, There’s a Reason I Remember It Well

AUTHOR’S NOTE: To enjoy this supplemental chapter, please be sure to have first finished reading Record Store Tales #909: It Was Back in the Summer of ’83, There’s a Reason I Remember It Well!

We both loved and feared when cousin Geoff came to visit.  So full of energy.  Much more than me.  We had great times, but usually tinged with a hint of destruction.  This is a kid who gave himself the nickname ‘Alligator’.

Geoff’s visit in the summer of ’83 launched with a trip to the lake.  My Aunt Lynda loves the cottage and so it was a special place for her too.  The photos tell the stories.  As a kid (and adult) I was obsessed with lighthouses, and my Grandfather made this amazing example.  It had lights inside and opening doors.  But you can see, we kids just treated it as another toy!  It appears that Geoff knocked out one of the windows, which is hanging from the edge.

You can see us playing Star Wars at the lighthouse.  I can identify my Bossk figure dangling from the top.  Kathryn and Geoff were right there with me, with their figures.  I look like I’m just immersed in that world.  A galaxy far, far away yet in our back yard.  You couldn’t have found three happier kids.

After returning from the lake, the main part of our adventure began.

Geoff’s grandparents on his dad’s side owned a huge piece of property in the country with a swimming pool, and the most amazing landscape to explore.  Grassy fields gave way to trees, and I don’t think we ever hit the end of the property when we went walking.  It simply went on forever.  Any time we went there, it was a treat.  We spent a few days at the property that summer, swimming and running pretending we were Jedi or superheroes.

I’m glad that we have some pics of that place.  Not a lot.  Mostly the pool.  None of the sprawling real estate and endless fields behind.  None of that cool organ they had in the living room.  None of the steep cliff, with stairway and landings, that that went from the house down to the pool.  But we have lots of the pool.  Imagine “Sister Christian” playing behind as you swim.

It always came back to Star Wars.  Return of the Jedi was brand new.  When Geoff was visiting, we wanted to see it again in the theatre, but as explained in the story, we were vetoed by the adults.  We saw Superman III instead.  (Be sure to read the full story.)   And, as described in many previous chapters, you couldn’t just watch a Star Wars at home like today.  So we had to use our imaginations.  I can easily see what we are reading in this picture.

The lightning from the Emperor’s fingers gives it away.  That is the read-along record/book set for Return of the Jedi.  It was the best way to enjoy the story at home.  Look at the three of us reading along, lost in that world, oblivious to the camera.

The record itself is spinning on my parents’ system behind us, the very system that I later made my own.  It seemed so huge then; not so big in the pictures.  All of our records — mine and my parents too — would have been in that cabinet behind us!  Also barely visible just behind me is my beige Fisher-Price mono tape recorder.  That thing was indestructible.

The three of us sat there, listening and reading as Darth Vader turned back to the light.  In a few short years, everything would have changed.  The decor, the media we listened to, and the entertainment we consumed.  Star Wars was on its last legs and the next record to enter that cabinet was not Star Wars.  It was not from a movie at all, although it certainly tried to be.  A band called Styx would soon be replacing John Williams on the platter.  Who could have guessed that this picture of us enjoying a Star Wars record together would the last time?