If the world was a record store...

...What a wonderful world it would it would be. Today being a Sunday, and me with little to do, I decided to check out the newest record store in Silver Spring, Joe's Record Paradise. And indeed it is. I've heard the space was a pool hall at one point, so that gives you a sense of how big it is. Wall to wall records, CDs, an expensive rare section, posters, and on and on. It was well worth checking out, and I'll get to what I bought, exactly, and I spin this yarn that, once again, has convinced me of this fact: If the world was a record store, it would be great.

One of the records I (thought) I bought was The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan, a sort of white whale for me, since I've never once come across a used copy in a store. It was $10.50, in good shape, and I was sold. Picked up a few others, and I was off, biking back home. Immediately, I put on Freewheelin' and what do I hear? 'Subterranean Homesick Blues' the first track off Dylan's 'Bringing it all Back Home' album. A great album, for sure. But I already have it. Turns out, I had bought one Dylan sleeve and another Dylan album. So I pack up and bike back to Joe's.

No trouble there -- I had thought they might think I was trying to scam them. They ask if I want the cash back or to look around for something else. I choose latter, and they check for another copy of Freewheelin'. No dice. So I head for a Country Joe and the Fish album I had previously passed up. $7.50? You got it. Then I find 'Remain in Light' from the Talking Heads with no price. Upon inquiry? $7. Well, we had a problem. I had $10.50 in store credit, but $14.50 in albums, plus tax. They say it could be settled for three bucks. I have no cash. We've got a problem.

The solution? One of the guys working there says, as the incense smoke swirls in the dusty air: "You know what man, for your trouble, let's just call it an even trade. Besides, [Remain in Light] is a great album, and if you don't already have it, you need it. Just come see us again sometime." Absolutely. So, for my trouble, I got a free $5 from the store, two albums instead of one, and a reason to visit again.

There aren't a lot of stores in which that would've happened. And I don't just think it's because it was a difference in $5 or so. It's as if they knew it probably kinda sucked to think you were getting an album, and then not. And to have to come back. And the "... and if you don't already have it, you need it..." line was great. It's almost as if they're desire to set me up with a classic album trumped their own business interests. It's about the experience, the record store culture, the shared quest for any and all records you'd ever want. It's as if we're all in this record collection adventure together; like I just got a collective, understanding nod from Joe's Record Paradise.

Paradise indeed. And just one more reason why this adventure is more than just a way to listen to music... it's an experience. Cultural. Musical. If only the whole world was a record store. And it(kind of) softened the blow of, once again, not having Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Something to keep looking for, I suppose.

Today's buys:
Country Joe and the Fish -- Electric Music For The Mind And Body
Cream -- Disraeli Gears
Bob Dylan -- Blood on the Tracks
Jimi Hendrix -- Band of Gypsys
Jimi Hendrix -- Axis: Bold As Love
Talking Heads -- Remain in Light

Photo, of course, from High Fidelity.

'Going down to Yasgur's Farm, gonna join in a rock 'n roll band. Got to get back to the land & set my soul free'

So went the line on one of the classic songs - 'Woodstock' - on this album 'Deja Vu' from Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young... This 1970 classic is great because it brings together influences from all members, has some classic tracks -- 'Teach Your Children,' 'Woodstock,' '4+20,' 'Our House' -- and is like sonic bridge between the 1960s and 1970s, musically speaking. And that album cover!

I hadn't listened to this album in I don't know how long, but gave it a spin today and it got me thinking about how I ended up with it and its place in its own era. I found this gem in Uptown Minneapolis' own Cheapo Records... it was rated in 'Good' condition and was selling for $4.20 -- perfect price. What's great about my copy is it's in fine playing condition, but just beat up enough to have a little hiss/static throughout. Some of the audiophiles out there might cringe at that, but in this sense it makes the listening experience. The dirty sound of 'Woodstock' coming over the speakers grasps what was, of course, an incredibly dirty festival.

The static running through 'Almost Cut My Hair,' exemplifies the era. In flux, uncertain, loud, challenging. The scratchy, hissy sound completely matches the album cover and the subject matter. I mean, it looks like the old west, Crosby with what appears to be a rifle and that dog just sitting in the foreground of the photo. The lyrics on 'Our House' -- 'I'll light the fire while you place the flowers in the vase that you bought today' -- are just so simplistic, but carry some kind of vivid imagery. And that very simplicity is the contradiction of the time this album was made. Social upheaval coupled with a certainty self-identified righteousness among a a segment of the movement.

The album is better for it. I had this on CD (and, as such, MP3) before I landed the vinyl, but I haven't listened to it in either of those formats since I got this record. The music itself on this album is a relic to a very specific period of the past -- just think of how different 1968 was from, say, 1972, from music to politics to culture. It's a snapshot of the past, musically, and listening to it in all of its dirty, scratchy, vinyl glory is like a worthwhile adventure on the greatest time machine of all time.

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.

Off topic, on street art... or a great Banksy piece

I'll take a break from blogging about music, vinyl, new songs and the like to make a plug for this package from London's Sunday Times. It's on Banksy, a street artist some of you may know, and it's an interesting story. The magazine cover was a Banksy original, and how it was made is show in the video above.

The video itself is interesting, because Banksy, if I understand correctly, is kind of an enigmatic figure, a reality perhaps most strongly supported by his being known simply as "Banksy." There's a extra-legal (illegal, really), dissident quality to his work, but even writing that last sentence almost certainly oversimplifies it.

Aside from vinyl collecting, I've always had a thing for street art, nontraditional art, graffiti (if you want to call it that) and, more generally, really modern art. Street art, in my mind, has this ability to be both fascinating in its simplicity -- sometimes just a well-placed stencil or a quick scrawl -- and amazingly complex at the same time. Whether you're talking about a piece writ large, and illegally placed, in a heavily trafficked area or a great piece of art crafted with nothing more than cardboard and spray paint, it's great all around.

With that in mind, here's a plug for two sites I visit at least once a day for some street art greatness. Wooster Collective (www.woostercollective.com) based in NYC's Soho neighborhood and Streetsy (www.streetsy.com), a kind of aggregator of street art from all over the world and the Web. Check 'em out.

Saturday buys... Greatest Hits edition

If it's the weekend, I'm probably either headed to, returning from or at the record store. Today, I stayed close to home and checked out Silver Spring's CD/Game Exchange, a favorite of mine for random used records and for the fact that it's close by.

And it paid off. Here's what I picked up:

Simon & Garfunkel -- Greatest Hits
Clapton, Page and Beck -- White Boy Blues 2xLP compilation
Cat Stevens -- Greatest Hits
Neil Young -- After the Gold Rush
The Byrds -- Greatest Hits
Santana -- Borboletta

That's it for now. It's sunny and 73 (!!!!!!) in Washington today, so any further posts are not on the to-do list, to say the least.