Russia's Medvedev [hearts] Vinyl

I came across this post from the Washington Post's Reliable Source blog today and knew I had to post. How often, on a day the U.S. government raids a Russian spy ring (SERIOUSLY) can you also fit the Kremlin's own Dmitry Medvedev into a blog post about vinyl records?

Answer? Never.

But that's what we're up to here. Apparently, when Medvedev was in Washington for his powwow with President Obama, he sent out a few members of his staff to do some crate digging in the wonderful shops D.C. has to offer.

Why, you ask?

Apparently Medvedev and I have similar (and similarly awesome) taste in music. He's a big fan of Duke Ellington, B.B. King and Jimi Hendrix, among others. In sum, the Medvedev staffers dropped $150 at Washington's own Som Records. I don't know what's more amazing to me about this story though. The fact that Medvedev, who is 44 according to The Post, is into vinyl enough that he'd send staffers out during a diplomatic trip to Washington specifically to a record store. Or, on the other hand, that somewhere between working in the Kremlin and sitting atop the Russian oil monopoly Gazprom that he developed such great taste in music, although Wikipedia says he was a big Black Sabbath (!) and Deep Purple (!!) fan in high school.

Anyway, I don't have much else to say on this, mostly because I can't believe it actually happened. That, and I really wish it would've been Vladimir Putin who was over here crate digging by proxy -- I wonder what kind of vinyl he likes to spin after a long day out riding horses on the Russian countryside.

[Photo cross-posted from Post story.]

On Baltimore's Own Guru Records

I was two sips into an incredibly strong and pungent bloody mary during lunch at Bertha's in Baltimore's Fells Point neighborhood when Emma pointed out a sign on the sidewalk: Own Guru Records. What luck, I thought. Here, we chose to come to Baltimore for a belated birthday adventure, and we pick a lunch spot right next door to some random record store.

As we sat there, I mentioned to Emma that it seems like there sure are a lot of people stopping and gawking at this store. I pictured some ridiculous selection of records in the window, or perhaps any number of other attention-seeking gestures independent shops are wont to employ.

We finished our lunch and head outside. Upon first glance, I saw what intrigued everyone: Above you'll see the front door of Own Guru Records. Yes, it's that little bit in the middle, a skinny black gate that leads to a similarly skinny, wooden-floored hallway past a few apartments and into a backyard. This concerned me. To gain entry, one must ring a buzzer, and an employee comes and unlocks the gate and lets you in. Once you enter, the gate is immediately locked behind you. I remember, only half-jokingly, asking Emma if we were about to be kidnapped or something. The thought did cross my mind.

Eventually, the strange little hallway and backyard environment gave way to what appeared to be a shed. Indeed, it was a shed. A shed full of records, with the owner repeatedly droning, "All records 15 percent off, books 25." There's maybe 10-square-feet of walking space in the entire place. I had to move out of the way for people coming and going multiple times. But it wasn't that big of deal, especially when you remember that that was the case because they had so many records there.

But it took me a solid five minutes to gain my bearings. I still wasn't sure where I was exactly. I felt like there must be something illegal going on, given the strange practices of this business (multiple times, the owner asked newly-entered customers if they locked the door behind them, and a number of them were literally escorted by another employee to the store's other location. I didn't visit). It was all very strange.

Eventually, though, I started looking through the crates and crates of records. Emma immediately found a copy of Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band. It'd been on her list of must-find records for some time. I made my way around the shop, and found a host of great records including The Jimi Hendrix Experience's first effort, Are You Experienced?, which was the only studio Hendrix album I didn't have before today. I also found a copy of Thriller. Those two finds alone would've been exciting enough. But no, there was a bunch more (check out the link.)

But aside from today's success, the store just has a lot of character. It only has vinyl, which I greatly appreciate. As strange as my first five minutes of interaction with it was, the rest of it more than made up for it. I struck up conversation with the man behind the counter. The records were solid. It was a great all-around experience. What more could you ask for?

Baltimore's Own Guru Records greatness, part 1

Just back from a birthday-ish trip to Baltimore, and while we were there we stumbled across this little shop: Own Guru Records. I plan a full post about this fascinating (and great) place, but more pressing matters (like listening to all these great new records) must be taken care of first.

Here's today's pick ups:

The Beatles -- Hey Jude
The Beatles -- Sgt. Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band
Gil Scott-Heron -- The Revolution Will Not Be Televised
Arlo Guthrie -- Alice's Restaurant
Toots and the Maytals -- Reggae Greats
Michael Jackson -- Thriller
The Jimi Hendrix Experience -- Are You Experienced?
Bob Dylan -- Another Side of Bob Dylan

That's pretty good for one shop and 20 minutes' worth of crate diggin' if you ask me.

Beatles: 'You say it's your birthday...'

"...Well it's my birthday too, yeah."

It's my birthday today, this fine May 28th. I'm putting out a call to anyone reading this for two things: suggestions of records (new or old!) to watch out for, and any suggestions or ideas about the hot crate-digging spots in Baltimore, which I'll be visiting tomorrow.

Let me know, yo!

On record fairs... and D.C.'s Black Cat says next one here is May 23 (!!)

Just days (DAYS) after Record Store Day comes word that the Black Cat in Washington, D.C. is going to be hosting the city's next record fair May 23rd, just a little over a month away. Looking ahead to this, rather than back at Record Store Day (just for a moment) got my thinking about record fairs in general.

I've only been to one proper record fair, and that was earlier this year in D.C. but I had always heard about them and wanted to check them out. Between reading stuff like this story from Montreal about people finding super-rare and super-expensive records at various places and the stories you always hear about a unassuming trip somewhere only to find something so amazing you can hardly believe it, I decided I had to check these things out.

So, in mid-February, we headed to the D.C. record fair. It was the first weekend after the Washington area got hammered with a week's worth of blizzard conditions, so just being out of the house and on the move somewhere was worth it. We got downtown to the Black Cat, a club in the area, and made it inside. What I saw was a sight was a sight to be seen -- to use a, come to think of it, incredibly redundant, meaningless and useless cliche. It was crazy.

There were more records than I had ever seen in one place. Ever. There were dealers stationed along every wall, packed in the middle of the dance floor, people waiting in lines three, four, five deep just to get to certain table so they could begin to look at the offerings. On the stage, there were DJs doing sets throughout. When I first got inside, Geologist from Animal Collective was on the stage. Not a bad start.

But it wasn't all good. For one, it was far too crowded for me. Waiting in line just to wait in line just to be able to look through records isn't my idea of a good time. Also, being cramped next to other people and having a line of people breathing down your neck when you finally do get to look through the records isn't any fun either. It limited the kind of casual perusing I enjoy, and instead meant you had to be very deliberate about it. Also, on a less-important, but no inconsequential note, it was too dark. I could hardly see what I was looking at and a number of people were using cell phones just so they could see.

Still, these problems aside, a room full of records -- with a full-service bar -- and a gathering of vinyl heads couldn't be all bad. And we landed some great finds: Duke Ellington and John Coltrane album, The Who's 'Tommy,' Pink Floyd's 'The Wall,' The Ramones self-titled first issue and The Doors' 'Strange Days,' all in decent shape and not too expensive. I call that a reasonable success.

So I'd give the experience a B+. I found some great records, had a decent time and didn't spend too much money. I found all of those records between two of the vendors, so who knows what I might have found if I was able to freely look around without having wait in long lines to do so. But that probably would've extracted too much money from my pocket anyway. So, for what it was, my first record fair was a worthwhile experience. Looking forward to the next one.

On Record Store Day - The Day Before

I've been thinking a lot about Record Store Day lately, for more reasons than one. Obviously, it's a great day in its own right. In Minneapolis there were always in-store concerts, sales on most everything and so on. In D.C., there are sales, giveaways, maybe some in-stores? I'm not sure. But all those things make Record Store Day, in and of itself, a worthwhile affair. Anything that brings like-minded people together is a good thing.

But as I noted in the previous post, this time around -- now that I actually have a record player -- I'm set on getting my hands on some of these exclusive releases. I'm so set, in fact, that I'll probably be lining up at least three hours before opening tomorrow in D.C.'s Adams Morgan neighborhood just to be among the first in line. Crooked Beat is stop number one, as I hear they'll have most releases and some giveaway bags as well.

The idea of getting up early, waiting that long in line - basically the day-after-Thanksgiving approach - is something I couldn't really see myself doing for anything for a long time though. I once waited six hours outside Fifth Element in Minneapolis for the last 100 remaining tickets to the Rhymesayers 10th Anniversary Show, but that ended up being one of the greatest concerts I've ever been to. Worth it. I also waited for a couple hours for a Brother Ali in-store/release party there, but nothing like this, I think.

Then I started thinking about the objective reality of what I'll be doing: Waiting in line for limited-release records that contain music that are only available for one day. In the year 2010, that's quite strange if you think about it. I could easily download a lot of music right now. I could find some of these records on Ebay or something - granted, they'll likely be much more expensive than they will be tomorrow. But, no. Tomorrow, on April 17, 2010, I'll be getting up early and waiting in line at a real-live store to buy music in it's physical form on vinyl. How strange.

But as strange as it is, I think that reality is what I like so much about this vinyl adventure. In today's world, so much is available at any time, whenever you want it. New music? Download it - maybe even for free. Movie you want to see? Go online. That television program you like? Hulu. You can Netflix, you can Tivo, you can stream, and on and on. I don't know if all that is really a good thing, though. It kind of cheapens the product and the experience. There's a big difference in the mindset when it comes to music when it can be either simply some coded data on a computer or a physical thing you can hold, look at, and so on. I mean, sure I watch stuff on Hulu and download music. But in a way that just hurts the sense of community around a common activity -- everyone's got their own screen, their own ear buds, doing their own thing. You're experiencing little together - that's no fun.

But Record Store Day has become a kind of last vestige of a time when people would get together to watch a show or listen to an album -- and just do that. More than just an excuse to probably spend too much money on records and go for the exclusive releases, Record Store Day is something that brings people together, as cheesy as that sounds (and believe me, I know it's cheesy). But it's true, too! Tomorrow, there I'll be, with a bunch of other like-minded people, standing in line, together, waiting to buy music we could - for the most part - already be listening to. On its face, that's strange. But if you get it, it's great. And it's really a rare thing in today's world. And I'm really, really looking forward to it.

Record Store Day - Crate digger flare

Record Store Day 2010 is less than a week away and I've been trying to plan my route (re: plan of attack). Now, I know there's a lot to this day, but I'm admittedly a bit of a new addition to the droves. I didn't have my record player last April, so this will be the first for me since I really got into this record collecting thing. Also, it's my first since I moved to D.C.

What this means is:

1) At least the very beginning of my Record Store Day will be focused on a getting my hands on a few of the special releases -- I'm talking about YOU Flaming Lips 'Dark Side of the Moon' LP.

2) I really don't know what to expect from the D.C. crate-digger-types. The record fair in February was more packed than I would've guessed. But I'm trying to decide how early to show up for a 10 a.m. or 11 a.m. opening. I've had 8 a.m. or earlier suggest -- which I'm OK with -- and I've also gotten an 'honestly don't know.'

3) I'm still not familiar enough with all the stores here to simply pick a store or two or three and know what I'll be getting myself into and what to expect.

So, here's my crate digger flare, seeking assistance from any like-minded-types who may stumble across this site. If you're in D.C., let me know in the comments what to expect, if you can. If you're not, just tell me what you think. I'm looking to be among the first in line -- or in the first group -- wherever I go. So, fellow crate diggers, what's your Record Store Day plan?

On D.C.'s record stores

As I somewhat eluded to in my breathless endorsement of Smash! Records, I had been somewhat disappointed in the selection of D.C.'s records stores since I moved here last fall. I hadn't really found a go-to shop. All the ones I had visited seemed to have some good qualities -- which I'll get into -- but I hadn't found THEE store that I'd visit every week or two just to look around.

To explain why I felt like this, it's useful to back up a bit... When I lived in Minneapolis, even before I had a record player, trips to a few core record stores were a weekly occurrence for me. It was what I did on a given Saturday afternoon. Depending on how much time I had, or wanted to spend, I'd choose between the Cheapo in St. Paul, the Cheapo in Uptown Minneapolis, the Electric Fetus in Minneapolis or the Fifth Element -- the record store of hometown label Rhymesayers -- for a hip hop fix. If I felt really ambitious, or had extra money to spend, I'd go to all of them, just to look around. I plan a post in honor of all these places soon, but that's neither here nor there.

Anyway, like I said. I hadn't -- and still really haven't -- found a shop here that replaces any of those in Minneapolis. Silver Spring's CD/Game Exchange has provided some good finds, but not a lot of new stuff, and which means it's as good as what they have at any given time -- which, admittedly, is usually pretty damn good. Smash!, of course, provided a great selection of used stuff, but didn't have much in the area of new vinyl to offer and lacked a strong collection outside of general rock. Melody Records is where I go for most of my new vinyl. It's where I picked up Animal Collective's 'Merriweather Post Pavilion' and when I went for Vampire Weekend's 'Contra,' they were sold out, but they ordered a new one for me within a day or two. That was nice. I still haven't checked out Crooked Beat Records -- right next door to Smash -- but that's next on the list.

The problem is, I haven't really found one that seems to be a large, general interest-type shop that has a big collection of both new and used vinyl. Cheapo in Minneapolis has a huge basement full. Electric Fetus has row after row of new and used stuff. But what I've found here is that they're more specialized: They each have their strong points and drawbacks. While it's not ideal, it's not all bad either.

Perhaps this is just the reality of D.C. There's only one really artsy, bohemian, hipster or whatever you want to call it -- basically where you'd expect to find record stores -- area here and that's where Smash and Crooked Beat are. Melody is close by. This isn't unusual, I think, given the make up of D.C., what with all the lawyers, politicians and former class presidents running around. It took us a few weeks just to find a place where we could buy a hookah. In Minneapolis it's like you can't walk two blocks without finding a head shop.

But what this situation has forced me to do is keep an eye on all the shops, try and keep track of what might be coming in and experiencing knew stuff. I visit CD/Game Exchange probably the most because it's less than a mile from my house. I follow them on Twitter, check out the Web sites and get a sense for what they're all about. It's a different experience than I had in Minneapolis, but it's not bad. And, just sometimes, you go into a shop here and find some great stuff. The next time you don't, so onto the next. I suppose there are worse things and it is exciting to be discovering new shops. And it's definitely exciting to find some great things at a new shop (Exhibit A: Smash records. B: CD/Game Exchange).

But you better believe next time I'm in Minneapolis, I'll be making the rounds to Cheapo, Electric Fetus and Fifth Element all over again. I'm an admitted/recovering homer. But D.C.'s got some great offerings.

On Record Store Day (!!!!)

I'm all kinds of excited for Record Store Day this year. It's not my first, per se, but it's the first one since I got my record player.. which means I plan to take full advantage of some of the releases that I hear are coming out -- Flaming Lips 'Dark Side of the Moon' limited release vinyl, I'm lookin' at you. As if that wasn't enough, I personally enjoy any national holiday -- yup, I said it -- that involves going to record stores all day.

But basic essential details aside, this post from Michele Catalano's True/Slant blog is a pretty good explainer of what makes Record Store Day, and really mid-April, the most wonderful time of the year. Again, that's right. I said most wonderful time of the year. I'll quote from Michele a bit here, but the whole post is worth a read:

Can CDs or digital offer you the artistry of records? Album covers framed and hung on the wall like pictures at an exhibition. Colored vinyl and picture discs turning your music into a work of art. In 1980, I bought True Colors by Split Enz and was endlessly entranced bythe laser etching in the vinyl that made it seem full of colorful prisms. Later, I would work in a record store and spend my entire paycheck each week on seven inch imports, a reminder of my days of collecting 45s. Each record had its own character, a specific memory attached to it – memories that were made of more than just sound. There’s the feel of the record, the sight of it, things so ingrained in the experience of listening to vinyl that just walking into a record store is like opening up a time machine. I’ve never met a CD that made me fall in love with it like a record. I’ll still love the music, but the CD is just a container for that music, where a record is part of the entire music experience. [Emphasis mine.]

That pretty much sums it up. From the beginning, whether it was the first time I went digging through a bunch of stuff in my parents' basement, to buying the turntable or when I found Dylan's 'Blonde on Blonde' or the Beatles' White Album at a favorite store in Minneapolis or Indianapolis, respectively.. It was never the music in and of itself that was the handle. Hell, most all of the albums I buy I've either heard in their entirety before or have heard a number of the songs. But it was everything else that came along with it -- the album art, the aesthetic value of the album, the crackle and hiss when you play it, the searching for a favorite or especially rare album, the culture, the listening with friends -- that what made it more than stopping by Target or Best Buy to pick up a CD. A vinyl record is like a masterfully crafted, round, 7- or 12-inch disc of history that happens to come in an artfully designed case that ALSO happens to contain some great music that ALSO ALSO sounds better than an MP3 or CD ever could. What's not to like?

ALSO: Check out the Record Store Day Twitter feed here, here, here.

Crate diggin' in the new world redux... In praise of CD/Game Exchange

Getting back to our more regularly scheduled blogging, it dawned on me today that I've neglected to praise Silver Spring, MD's own CD/Game Exchange enough in this blog. The story of how I came to realize this ends with me returning home after a day of work with the albums above from Stevie Wonder, The Beatles, Grateful Dead, Doobie Brothers, Lou Reed and Jimi Hendrix, but there's more to it than that.

Monday night, I saw on the store's Twitter account that it had gotten some new 70s rock vinyl in stock. I inquired, natch, and was told there was some 60s rock as well, including Beatles, Hendrix and Doors. Well, that peaked my interest. Unfortunately, I had to work the next day -- it's a give-and-take relationship, with work funding the collection while work gets in the way of the collecting. So Sam at the store made an offer: he'd hold back some of the new arrivals if I could come in some time that day before 8 p.m.. My response? Absolutely.

I eventually made it to the store after work, and there was a glorious stack of vinyl waiting there. And there were some great finds, some of which I bought (listed above) and more that I'm sure would've disappeared rather quickly if just thrown out there. While looking and buying the records, I got to talk with Sam there a bit. I mentioned how I was from Minneapolis, just once, when he'd been to First Ave. as a roadie. He added that since everything closed earlier, they later went to a "huge gay club" -- "they served beer, so it was good" -- which I assume was the city's (in)famous Gay 90s.

But it was nice experience, and first time I really got a sense for the people behind the counter, so to speak, even though I'd been to this shop a handful of times. The stores I frequented in Minneapolis were big, with a lot of employees and customers and I never really met anyone working there, and that's understandable. But this little shop right outside the District of Columbia has some great records there, especially if you follow its updates on Twitter and/or Facebook and get in on some of the early stuff.

It's especially impressive considering records aren't even what they specialize in -- by that I mean they sell all kinds of stuff. I heard someone ask if they sell Sega Dreamcast games today (yup, Dreamcast, man), and I'm fairly certain I've seen some Super Nintendo games/hardware around. There are also used CDs, tapes, skateboards, T-shirts, stickers, books... and it goes on.

Really, it's just a great place in my mind, and I always appreciate a store willing to let customers know what's in stock before you head over -- something that's especially unusual when it comes to used records, since stores aren't the best on keeping updated inventory. D.C.'s Crooked Beat Records is probably the best I've seen (and they ship!). Oh, and that store's Twitter page is here.

Anyway, as much as I enjoy an hour or two on a Saturday hanging out at record stores, it's great to hear from the store when some new stuff comes in and just swing by too. Being able to hear from the people who run it is an added -- and equal -- bonus, and I look forward to getting to know more about the store and the people. In the short-term, though, I'll be checking CD/Game Exchange's updates on new merchandise, and I'd recommend you do the same.

On Salvage Shops

I wanted to follow up on something I referenced earlier: how worthwhile salvage shops can be. In this case? Pictured above is something obviously and simply called "VARIETY STORE" located in South Indianapolis. (I spent last summer there working for the Indianapolis Star newspaper.)

It doesn't look like much, what with its junk-yard/yard-sale look outside (you should see the back) and the "Playboys, $5 sign" that -- trust me -- is sitting in one of those front windows. Granted, it wasn't much on the inside either, and the casual crate digger might have just up and left. Frankly, it was dirty, dusty, about 90 degrees (in the front, toward the back was more of a warehouse) and a little creepy in a Dueling Banjos kind of way. But, to the persistent goes the spoils, or something like that.

In this particular case, I walked in the door and was immediately greeted by a few very South Indianapolis-looking men heckling over a moped or something. All around me were Sega Genesis and Super Nintendo games, cheap bikes, hubcaps, car parts and whatever else that existed in that "we-sell-everything shop." Shortly after entering, I was (seriously) offered 10,000 records for $300. The catch? The guy running the shop had no idea what kinds of records comprised said collection that took up a warehouse wall's worth of space, and I had no idea either. I also, as an intern, had no place to store 10,000 records, let alone transport them, so I passed.

After that ridiculous, but strangely tempting offer, I took to working my way through shelf after shelf and palette after palette of records. Some were completely destroyed -- the kind of records you know wouldn't even play, and just might ruin your needle. I saw Jefferson Airplanes, The Beatles' Revolver, a White Album, the Rolling Stones' Sticky Fingers and a couple Led Zeppelin albums that were in terrible shape. As tempted as I was to buy them anyway (at $5 a pop) I passed and kept digging. To wildly understate it, that was difficult.