It has been a very emotional summer for fans of The Tragically Hip, but it all ends tonight.
A few months ago, nobody ever thought this would be the last summer of the Tragically Hip. Gord Downie’s brain cancer diagnosis came as a surprise to all. We can only imagine what Gord and his family are going through, but fans have been mourning in their own ways. Mostly, they’ve been trying to go and see Gord one last time. As StubHub jacked up ticket prices to ridiculous highs, fans scrambled to win contests or find any way to see the Hip live.
The good news is, everyone can see the Hip live, anywhere.
Locally, there is a lot going on. You can join the gang from DaveRocks at local pup Bobby O’Brien’s for a Hip celebration. They will be showing the last Hip concert on a big screen. Lots of bars are doing the same thing — check your local listings. Some families are having backyard and pool parties with the neighbours, with big outdoor screens. All over Canada, fans will be celebrating separately, but together.
Not in Canada? No problem. There are viewing parties in major US cities such as New York and L.A. They will even be watching the Hip in Rio de Janeiro as the Olympics close. And it will be streamed worldwide. The CBC has all the details.
How are you planning to enjoy the Hip show? Here at LeBrain HQ, we are going to make some food, order in some gourmet chicken wings, and watch the Hip in 5.1 surround sound. It will be a turbulent experience. We don’t know much about Gord’s cancer except that it’s not treatable. We don’t know how he feels. All we know for certain is that we have been told this is the last tour, and that more than likely means this is the last show, forever. The band has not done any press, nor said much to address the many questions. It is like a giant elephant in the room. But tonight, I want to put all that out of my mind and just enjoy the music. I don’t want to think too much about what it all means. There will be plenty of journalists doing that. Tonight is for the fans, so let’s enjoy it, for us.
We only get to do it once a year, so you gotta make it count!
Readers here have been treated to many tales from Sausagefest every year, the annual music countdown that occurs every July at a top secret outdoor location. The parties are epic and the music is never disappointing. You’ve read all about the countdown and activities many times here and even been treated to a few videos. Sausagefest is such a blast every year that even the trip up is worth hearing about.
My two passengers this year were Uncle Meat, and Chris the Lamb Lad. We had to pack a lot of stuff into my little Pontiac G5 including three coolers. The Lamb Lad had packed his cooler full of freshly made pulled pork for everyone. Perhaps even more important than the succulent and delicious pulled pork was the music selection. Uncle Meat commandeers the stereo, but I brought four flash drives loaded to the brim with tunes. I had spent several hours curating the music on these flash drives, much longer than we would actually spend listening to them.
Instead, we spent most of the time listening to the CDs that Uncle Meat brought. As many music fans in Ontario now know, recording artist Paul MacLeod passed away a couple months ago. Paul and Uncle Meat were very close friends, and Paul had set aside a couple CDs of his for me to review. Meat gave them to me, and we listened to Paul in the car, with Meat remembering the good times. I now own his albums Close and Play, and Tell the Band to Go Home. Both are incredible, but we’ll save that for the eventual reviews.
Also given to me were two studio CDs by recording artist and Sausagefester Max the Axe: self-titled, and Overload. There was some pretty heavy metal on those two CDs. Thanks to Uncle Meat, I now own three Max the Axe albums in total. Needless to say, there was plenty of rocking in the car.
“Livin’ the Country” from Overload (2008)
Meat was on his best behaviour. No backseat driving at all this year, which was an awesome change of pace. He also didn’t piss in the middle of the road this time. Up through Salem and into Arthur, we made our first stop at Tim Horton’s for some ice capps. Usually I was the most prepared of us, but this year I neglected to eat a good lunch before we departed. I was starving and ordered a steak wrap. Unfortunately the place was really busy, as it always is, and I should have known it was going to take 20 minutes. While I waited inside for my wrap, Meat and the Lamb Lad went outside for a smoke.
Moments later, Meat came back into the store.
“Kayys?” he said to me.
“Kiss?” I responded. I had a flash drive with every single Kiss album. Gotcha covered.
“Kayys?” he repeated, hand outstretched. People looking at him now. Lots of people waiting in line.
“I don’t know what you’re asking me,” I said uselessly.
“Kayss?” again.
I stood there like a doorknob; lots of people there looking at us trying to see what this weirdo was doing. “Kayss?” he kept repeating. It was clear I had no idea what he was asking, so he finally broke character.
“Keys? Can I get your car keys? I left my smokes in the car.”
“Why didn’t you just say that, you friggin’ goof?” I said as I dug for my keys.
“I did!” he retorted. “Kayss?”
OK, I heard it now. In the meantime, me and everybody else in Tim Horton’s in Arthur assumed he wanted a kiss.
We made our way up the windy country roads, listening to more Paul, more Max, but no Kiss. Next stop was Flesherton. There used to be a killer chip wagon there, but it has been gone for the last two years. Instead, Lamb Lad went into a sandwich place and ordered what looked to be some pretty amazing food. Outside, an elderly couple in the late 70’s or early 80’s seemed to be having an argument.
We waited for Lamb Lad to order, and then stepped outside again so the guys could smoke. As we walked out, a cop car pulled up and blocked in the elderly couple! It seems somebody had taken notice of their discussion and called the cops. The couple looked like they had figured out whatever it was just as the cops arrived. It was weird to see this happening in Flesherton Ontario with a couple who looked older than Moses. We shook our heads and marvelled at how weird the day was getting before we even arrived at Sausagefest.
But the farm wasn’t far, and before we knew it, our destination was at hand. Familiar faces were greeted, and help was offered in setting up tents. It’s a magical place. There are friends here that we only see once a year, but have bonded with like brothers. It’s a remarkable experience to have. And the music ain’t bad either.
Journaling is a gift that keeps on giving. I’m so glad that I decided to document my years at the Record Store. Even when I think the well is dry, I keep finding little tiny flakes of gold. I’ve collected four retail rants from back in the day for your edification.
Date: 2004/05/03
Manners? This guy was just standing in front of me, burped three times, and smelled of pepperoni when he did. It was so gross I felt like I had to puke.
Date: 2004/05/18
I have decided that I want to work at the Money Mart next door. All they ever seem to do is take breaks! The one girl, she’s on her second smoke break in one hour!**
Date: 2004/06/02
You know you’re stupid when…
You pay for a neon sign to be made that is grammatically incorrect!
I was just walking past Angel’s Diner, who advertize that they have “The best rib’s in town!” Yikes!
Date: 2004/06/21
The last thing I needed to see today was an older couple purchasing a CD about tantric sex.
* Title inspired by XM radio DJ Grant Random
** I noticed this because I had a bit of a crush on her, as noted inRecord Store Tales Part 170. Not a creepy crush though I swear.
GETTING MORE TALE #508: The Weirdest CD that I Own
The size of my personal CD collection now has exceeded my ability to store it properly. I count it not in the hundreds but the thousands, my best guess right now being about 3500 titles on CD. As one would expect, with that many titles here, you’re going to find some odd ones. In fact, for the second-last chapter of the original Record Store Tales, Mrs. LeBrain brought out 10 of her favourite weird finds in my collection. She missed the strangest one of all.
Promos Volume 6 – Don Buchwald & Associates Inc.
This CD was given to me by a short-lived employee named Damien. Damien will forever be scorned in the annals of Record Store History, for he quit (to become a roadie for the summer) with zero days notice, on the day before my vacation. And boy, did I get in shit for going on vacation anyway. This was one more incident that caused my direct supervisor, the one I call the “office bully”, to stop speaking to me for three weeks straight.* The punishment far outweighed (and outlasted) the crime. Cut that shit out, act like a damned professional.
So I will always have memories surrounding this strange 2 CD set, Promos Volume 6 put out by a New York talent agency in the late 1990’s. It’s a free promo that has 87 samples of various performers such as Joy Behar and Stockard Channing showing off their voice talents. “Chevy Chase stars in Modern Problems, tonight on HBO!” says Behar. “Jack Lemmon starring in five movies, all day on Cinemax.” She has a bit for Comedy Central, and so on. Each voice talent name on these discs (the majority of which you’ve never heard of) has roughly a minute of samples to show off their skills.
None, not even Joy Behar, have anything on Dee Snider of Twisted Sister.
“From a frenzy of emotion, to a frenzy of violence. What happens when fans become fanatics? It’s an athlete’s worst nightmare: Being stalked by a fan whose devotion becomes obsession. [gunshot sounds] CNN presents: Fans who turn the field of sports, into a field of screams.”
Wow. Who writes this stuff? I can all but guarantee that any one of my readers can come up with a better tagline than that paid CNN employee! Snider delivers his lines with the sobriety necessary. But that’s nothing. Nothing at all, compared to Sexy Snider.
The scene is set with sweltering sax, to go with the velvet voice of Snider’s sultry seduction.
“Lifetime has what you’ve been waiting for. Spend every night of the week with a different man. We’re not talking boys here. We’re talking men, who leave you breathless. Richard Gere. Tom Cruise. Kevin Costner. Sean Penn. All this week, only on Lifetime.”
It’s great stuff and I’ve used it for filler at the end of mix CDs before, when I needed something less than a minute long to max it out. What I really love is how Snider’s New York accent really comes out when he says “Sean Penn”. Damien may have been a dick, but this one track 51 second in length has given me…many minutes…of enjoyment over the years.
The 2 CD set comes in a “fat style” case, taking up far too much room for its 51 seconds of dubious value. I wouldn’t trade it away for all the specials on HBO and Lifetime combined…but I also don’t need Volumes 1-5!
What’s the weirdest CD that you own?
* Three weeks was the standard waiting period for her to get around to speaking to me again. Pretty awkward when you work together every almost single day. This happened on multiple occasions.
One of my (many, many) jobs at the Record Store was running our “buying classes”.
The problem was this: teaching new employees how to buy used CDs was a very intensive process. It made sense for us to train multiple people at once in one session. We wouldn’t even try to teach an employee how to buy until they’d been with us for two months. Once they had a little bit of experience under their belts, we’d start training them on being a buyer. One of the best features of the stores was that everybody was a buyer. You didn’t have to wait for a specific person. Anyone behind the counter could buy. We had to make sure that every single person was 1) fair, 2) competent, and 3) ready for the responsibility.
The first two buying classes were done with two instructors – myself and one of the bosses. (The first one was memorable — one guy came in with a cocaine hangover after spending the night partying too hard with the Dandy Warhols.) Subsequently, I handled the classes solo. We would generally have three to four new employees in each class, all from different stores.
We had a dedicated computer just for these classes, and of course it was an old outdated one. We couldn’t afford to buy a computer just for these training classes, obviously. Do you remember how huge an old computer was? I’d check in early and begin setting up the monstrous hardware which consisted of a PC, a titanic heavy monitor, keyboard, mouse and receipt printer. Or, if the class was being held in another city, I’d pick up the equipment at our home office and drive it (and sometimes employees too) to the class. If I was lucky, about two months later I’d see a mileage cheque.
We also had several large boxes of “training CDs” to help with learning scenarios.
For example:
CDs that were scratched, but repairable.
Discs that were top-scratched or pinholed, and not repairable.
CDs that were in mint condition.
CDs that were missing a component, such as a back cover, or one of multiple discs.
CDs that were so common that we always had them in stock.
Box sets.
Promo discs.
Classical music (we used a different buying structure for classical albums, based more on record label and series than artist and title).
Discs from every section of the store.
DVDs and video games too.
example of pinholes
There was a lot to teach, and I tried to make it fun, even though much of it was very tedious. A lot of repeat, a lot of doing the same thing over again, and a lot of waiting around as people took their turns going through buying scenarios. The classes were a chance for me to unbutton a bit and step out of the box. I had fun with the scenarios. I would play different characters. The white trash dude who watches everything you do and won’t shut up and let you think. The crackhead looking for a their next rock. The down-on-my-luck guy with a sob story that may or may not be true, who just needs enough money for the bus. And of course regular, every day, normal polite people. Because those are the exact situations they were going to experience in the front lines of the Record Store.
Not to mention (and we’ve been through this in more detail before, in Part 92: Staffing) there are many different versions of CDs. They can be similar, but have different tracks. It was crucially important to buy and enter these things accurately. If you didn’t, a customer would say, “I was looking on the internet and I saw you had the 1995 remastered version of Diary of a Madman,” and find that you just entered it wrong. It’s not the 1995; it’s the remixed 2002 one that nobody wants! Somebody made a trip in to get that CD, and you fucked it up. We tried to avoid that! But there’s only so much you can teach.
Then, to finish the buying procedures, I had to teach them about the bi-laws regarding buying used goods in the province, and how to take ID from customers. They had to know what ID’s were accepted, how to properly enter the info into the computer, and also how to deal with difficult customers who didn’t want to show their ID at all.
It was actually a pretty good system. Whoever came up with it (probably the same higher-up that sat in the first two classes) did a good job setting it up. Giving credit where credit is due, it worked. But also giving credit where credit is due, I worked my ass off in these classes, and made them my thing, while it lasted.
Training can be made fun. I think playing out scenarios is a great way to learn. Let’s face it, there is a lot of pressure on new employees during training. Doing my best to make it fresh and enjoyable was my strategy, and I think the results speak for themselves. A few people I trained ended up lasting over a decade, and that’s something to be proud of.
This summer is just burning by. This week, we’re burning through five more chapters of Record Store Tales MkII: Getting More Tale!
GETTING MORE TALE #506: I’m Eighteen
The old Record Store was 95% used CDs, bought from the general public. Like any store selling second hand goods bought pawn-style from walk-ins, we were regulated. As discussed in Record Store Tales Part 254: You Don’t Need to See My Identification, if you wanted to sell your shit to me, you had to present to me a government issued photo ID. That’s the law, and I was the sheriff, so show me your damned ID or you don’t get to sell your stolen CDs for weed money, got it!? It’s not like we were taking IDs just for fun. The cops really did go over our records (Record Store Tales Part 309: Penmanship), and every once in a while this would result in them catching a thief (Record Store Tales Part 307: Court). It was tedious but necessary work.
Part of the law regulating how we went about our business stated that you had to be 18 years or older in order to pawn stuff. People would complain. “But they’re just CDs, it’s not like I’m selling you a stolen television.” Yeah, but the laws don’t differentiate between you selling a TV, a Garth Brooks CD with a cracked case, or an X-Box. Some customers had a hard time grasping this concept.
To save yourself work, it was always advisable to ask a young-looking customer if they were 18 or older before you started going over their CDs. If they weren’t 18, you’d ask them to come back with a parent.
Here are some responses from customers who were asked if they were 18:
1. “But I’ll be 18 next week!” OK, then come back next week. You can’t vote if you turn 18 “next week”.
2. “Can you call my mom? She’ll tell you I can sell these.” No, you call your mom, and get her in here with her ID.
3. “Did you know it’s illegal to ask someone their age?” Uhh.
4. Several kids just went outside and asked strangers to sell their stuff for them, just like kids trying to get an adult to buy them liquor. Sometimes people would do it. Not exactly the wisest choice. If those CDs were stolen, guess who’s name is attached to them now?
5. You’d get the inevitable people who are flattered that you thought they were that young. “Thanks for the compliment!” Well, you’re very welcome!
The kid that really pissed me off (and this only happened once) was the kid who lied to me about his age before I went ahead and priced all his CDs. He had a lot of stuff, DVDs too, and it took a lot of time and work to go through and price them all. I checked each and every one for quality, I looked them all up in inventory, and I organised them according to value. I made the offer, the kid accepted it, and then I asked him for a piece of his ID.
And then I saw he was only 17.
I was pissed and I didn’t try to hide that. I had wasted all that time going through his shit that he couldn’t even sell, because he lied about his age.
That kid would be in his early 30’s today. I hope he learned to stop being a lying ass!
Note: This tale is from 1996 and does not reflect current tech.
GETTING MORE TALE #504: Waiting
The store that I managed for the longest period of time was opened in April of 1996. The format was 95% used stock, about 5% new. It was fun being a part of the cutting edge in retail.
When we opened that store, we were inundated by customers who had never heard of us before. Every day for months, somebody would wander in who had never been in one of our stores before. It was cool. We were different, and we wanted people to know it. We were eager to promote our special features and strengths, such as our listening stations and reservation lists.
The reservation list caused a lot of confusion among new customers.
Here’s how it worked. Let’s say you’re looking for a CD that is hard to find used – Pink Floyd’s The Wall. That one was expensive brand new. Usually it ran for about $33.99. Customers would much rather pay less, so they put themselves on our waiting list. At the time we opened, the waiting lists were for that store only. We didn’t have the ability to share our waiting lists with other branches yet. This was still a massive improvement over the old system: a notebook with phone numbers and titles written in it. (There were lots of names and numbers with the title “any Beatles”.)
The list operated on a first-come, first-served basis. If you were the very first customer to put their name in for The Wall back in April ’96, then you would get dibs on the very first used copy that came in. If you were second, you’d get the next shot at it, and so on and so forth. What seemed to confuse my early customers the most was “Where do these used CDs actually come from?”
There was no magical land of used CDs. There was no massive warehouse from which to pick and choose copies of The Wall in various conditions. There was no place from which to order used CD stock like you could with new. If there was a Used CD Magic Wonderland, then it was in your basement, because the only way we received our stock in those days was via the customer. If a customer came in and traded a great condition copy of The Wall, then congratulations – the first person on the waiting list received the first call.
On down the list we went. If the first person no longer wanted The Wall (a frequent occurrence) then we’d go down the list to the second person. We would phone each customer and give them a week to pick up their CD. Unfortunately most customers who no longer wanted the CD never bothered to tell us, so it would sit there for a whole week before we could put it back in the hopper. We wiped out our entire waiting list for Last of the Mohicans (Soundtrack) with just one copy, because none of the reserved customers wanted it anymore. There were five names on that list, and then suddenly none!
So: reserve a CD, and we would let you know when one was traded in. This doesn’t seem like it should be hard to understand, but apparently for some it was.
One upset customer came in about two weeks after reserving a rare CD. “Is it in yet?”
I checked. “No, it’s not in stock, but since you have a reserve for it, we’ll call you when it does show up.”
“When’s that going to be?” he asked.
“Hard to say,” I responded, trying to answer his question. “Whenever someone trades one in, which could be tomorrow or it could be next year.”
Then he bellowed, “What do I have to do to get this thing to come in?!”
Sometimes, I just didn’t know what else to say.
“You don’t have to do anything,” I said, not sure how to explain this further. “Somebody will get tired of their copy, or just need the money. If they sell it to me, you’ll get a phone call right away.” Then, feeling a little snarky, I added, “Unless you know somebody with a copy that you can talk into trading it in to us.”
There was actually one nearly-surefire way to guarantee a used CD would come into stock. T-Rev discovered this, inadvertently. Somehow, any time either of us bought a new CD that we’d been hunting for, suddenly a used copy would show up in store. Sometimes on the same day. This happened more than once! I was there when it happened with a Primus CD he was looking for. (Wish I could remember which one.) It was eerie.
Everything has changed today, obviously, and now you have access to the world’s inventory from your PC. It’s hard to imagine there was once a time when you (gasp!) had to actually wait to find a used copy of The Wall!
There are a few rituals that I look forward to every day. I love waking up in the morning and checking to see if there are any new comments here. I look forward to coming home from work and spending time with Mrs. LeBrain. I also enjoy checking the mail box. I never know what surprises I might find each day. Sometimes it’s bills, or flyers from the local Church of Scientology. Today, it was a present from a reader!
You may have seen Wardy around in the comments section, and you also may have read some reviews that wererequestedbyhim. Wardy likes The Cult, among many bands, and requested a review for their Ceremony album. Problem: I didn’t have Ceremony. I had all the singles, but not the album. In fact I think it is (somehow) the only Cult album I never bought.
Not any more! All the way from Australia, here is Ceremony! (And not just Australia, but Tasmania, which to me makes it that much cooler!) I guess I could say I got it on Australian import. Now I don’t have a choice; I have to review it! How could I say no, now?
As I press “play” for the first time, I leave you with this.
When you eventually see a review for the Cult’s Ceremony up here, thank Wardy. THANK YOU WARDY!
Everything started with Iron Maiden. At least for me. Way way waaaay back in Record Store Tales Part 1: Run to the Hills, we revealed that pivotal moment when everything changed. The album was Masters of Metal Volume 2, and regarding hearing “Run to the Hills” for the first time I wrote, “Some people speak of moments of clarity: That was my moment.” Everything I was focused on and passionate about now took a back seat to rock and roll. The year was 1984.
I taped some Iron Maiden albums off friends, and bought the double Live After Death as my first Maiden LP. I memorised the names of the members, and made sure to include Martin “Black Knight” Birch and Derek “Dr. Death” Riggs in my memory banks. Maiden had the best album covers, the best videos, and the best lyrics. They had songs about World War II and the Crimea. It was more intelligent music than the other heavy metal bands I’d heard. I stared for hours at my Live After Death LP, so loaded was it with photos and facts. In grade 8, I was the only kid in my school who liked Iron Maiden, and that was fine by me.
Figuring out exactly what Maiden were saying, that was another story. Live After Death had a lyric sheet, but before that we were just guessing. In a case of mis-heard lyrics, I assumed that the lyrics to “Number of the Beast” went, “Hell and fire are born to be the least”. Bruce was actually singing “Hell and fire are spawned to be released.” “To be the least” went over better with teachers and parents, but when I got Live After Death, I kept the real lyrics for myself. I did learn a new word from that song, “spawned”.
Maybe it was Bruce’s accent, but I really struggled to hear what he was saying, even just when he was speaking on stage. “Scream for me, Long Beach!”, he repeated throughout the album. I could not figure out at all what he was saying, and neither could my best buddy Bob. It sounded like “Scream for me, lambiens!” So we assumed “lambiens” was British slang for “my friends”. That made sense to us. Bob had Live After Death on cassette and there were no liner notes. Not until I got it on LP many months later did I see that the album was recorded at Long Beach Arena, and put two and two together. Until then, it was “lambiens”! “Speak to me, Hammersmith!” was another Bruce phrase that we couldn’t decipher. Until I noticed that side four of the LP was recorded at Hammersmith Odeon did it click. Until then, I thought Bruce was talking to his bandmates on stage. “Speak to me, Harris Smith!”
Both of us played that live album plenty. Thanks to “Powerslave”, I was way ahead on my Egyptology. By the time we started taking Egyptian history in grade 11, I was already well familiar with the eye of Horus. All knew all about Alexander the Great and the Gordian Knot. Iron Maiden brought all that stuff right to our stereos, but I don’t think they got enough credit for it.
Maiden had other subject matter as well. Though seldom, they would sometimes write songs regarding the “fairer sex” such as “Charlotte the Harlot”. As a young kid first getting into the band, I had no idea what that was about. Even foggier to me was “22 Acacia Avenue”. It was a great tune, but the lyrics were a total mystery to me. It’s not complicated: Charlotte sells herself for money in both tunes. In the second, someone is trying to talk her out of this lifestyle. “You’re packing your bags, you’re coming with me.” Right over my head.
In art class at school, we had to draw a scary scene for Halloween. I chose a bunch of imagery I lifted from Maiden covers: streetlamps, grave stones, fire, dark alleys, a grim reaper and…a house with the address “22 Acacia Avenue”. I liked how Maiden’s artist Derek Riggs hid symbols and clues in his covers, so I was trying to do the same, but just randomly. The teacher walked up and observed my artwork, and asked me a couple questions. “22 Acacia Avenue, is that where you live?” No, but how the hell do I explain this to the Catholic teacher at a very Catholic school? Scrambling for an answer I said, “No, that’s the address of an actual real haunted house.” The teacher “Oooh’ed” excitedly and went to the next student. An actual haunted house? Boy did I have that wrong. Not that I could have given the real answer!
Playing Live After Death again today as I’m writing this is very much a time capsule. It’s 1985 again, and Bob and I are playing air guitars to “22 Acacia Avenue” in my basement. How badly we so wanted to BE Iron Maiden. Hell I made a birthday card for Bob one year that had his face in Iron Maiden over Dave Murray’s! Of 22 Acacia Avenue, Bruce sang “That’s the place where we all go.” Good enough for us, so we wanted to go too. If we knew what Bruce was actually singing about, I think we would have (wait for it) run to the hills instead!
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