About 10 years ago (give or take) I was visiting Los Angeles and my friend Matt Olivo, guitarist extraordinaire for the band REPULSION, gave me their Horrified album on vinyl. I hadn't had a vinyl in hand for YEARS. As a matter of fact, we sat and listened to some albums from his collection that visit. It sparked something in me. I went back and looked at how I was listening to music. I didn't like it. While iPods and digital music put hundreds of thousands of albums and their music within a finger tap, I found a discontent with it. I really enjoyed listening to music and found myself listening to songs, jumping from one to another, sometimes never even bothering to finish. I took Olivo's cue and moved back in to the analog world. Listening to records requires some patience, which I appreciate and have went back to listening to "albums" again. Finding those "deep cuts" that move you beyond the force-fed radio hits. I found a new appreciation for music and the musicians and artists that make it.
Jump to April 18, 2015.
This is "Record Store Day." A day originally created to celebrate the independent "brick and mortar" business keeping the music dream alive to fans of music. Bands would offer "exclusive" music for this occasion or other releases, again, in an effort to drive traffic to these stores and a perk for the fans as well. Now, RSD, as it has come to be known, has became what it was rallying against. A corporate driven affair, looking to cash in, at the expense of the fans I might add, on any and all things they could POSSIBLY squeeze another buck out of or market as an "RSD EXCLUSIVE." Labels and music executives, having all but killed the music business as we know it, are looking to cash-grab anywhere they can. Because YES, we NEEDED a vinyl release of "Touch Me I'm Dick" from the fictional band Citizen Dick, ala the 1992 film Singles.
I had no agenda to participate in this years RSD in any way. I support local stores and shop at them ALL YEAR LONG, as opposed to showing up this one time a year. I think they might actually appreciate that more. Odd, right? So when I read that the GWAR's third album, America Must Be Destroyed was going to be released as a double LP, RSD exclusive, I cringed. I REALLY have been looking to fill that collection void for a bit. Only available as a German Import, it was finally seeing a release of sorts. I've tried to actually refrain from buying this stuff online and save the excitement of actually finding in store, which is a whole other article all together. Gwar has been a personal fave since I first saw them in 1989. They are an obvious influence on my band and have been lucky enough to play with and to work with Dave Brockie before his passing. I must have this record.
I had in mind that I would get up early and frequent my favorite record stop, fight a crowd and PRAY, that I might be blessed enough to catch one of these. At least that was the plan...
I awoke at 7:45am the day of. Most RSD events kick-off at 8:00am. I had over-slept and was in the weeds on this one. I am sure the line was around the block. I had to think quick. With 15 minutes to spare, I formulated a plan to ensure I would have a CHANCE at getting the coveted GWAR record.
Ok, so going to my favorite store was nixed. A 20 minute drive and dealing with crowds (since this was arguably the most popular store in the city) was just out of the question. I came up with a "PLAN B." Plan B has me targeting a store closer and in a more "questionable" part of the city. Seemed like a solid plan. This place, while technically a "music store," is probably at this point known more for "exotic tobacco smoking accessories" or "adult videos and novelties" than selling top music. I knew the odds were against me, but, this is the best shot I have, this late in the game. Jumped in to the jeans. Thew on a black tee and out the door.
I did need to stop for some coffee.
Ok, I know what you might be thinking. "Why, if you are already behind the 8-ball, are you stopping for coffee?" This will become clear in a few minutes. I grab some boiling hot java, get back to the car and continue on my way.
I reach the store at 11 minutes after 8am. Not bad timing. No line out front, but the store is big and could be hiding a crowd inside. I find a place to park and I am off to the races. I get to the front door and make my way to the vinyl department. There is a decent enough crowd, but not unmanageable. The set up for this store and this particular day BLOWS. It almost forces you to stand in line and WAIT for the few in front of you to thumb through the releases, then shuffle out so another one can look. Not sure this was intentional, just the crummy layout. One way in, one way out. Ok, time to initiate my plan...
I was greeted by an employee, who took stock in my shirt I had thrown on.
"Oh, sweet Krokus shirt! Is that an orig..."
Eyewitness sketches courtesy of Karl Dahmer.
I had stopped at a well known fast food restaurant for my coffee. I will not mention the name of said establishment, but it was known far and wide for its "hot" coffee. Even lending itself to an urban legend-like story (which I have come to find is real and horrifying - see the HBO doc. about it) about the coffee being so hot, it gave them severe, third degree burns. SO, with THIS coffee in hand, I chucked the contents at the store employee. THIS is the diversion. His hipster-bearded face caught it perfectly, down to the floor, sending out a blood-curdling scream. People, startled, scrambled about...the crowd opened a bit. Enough for a line of vision directly to the area with the RSD releases...it was almost like slow-motion. A man, thumbing through the releases, slows enough to turn his head and look at the commotion, and then, I could see it...in the bin in front of him, GWAR's America Must Be Destroyed. I had to act fast.
The diversion drew a few people from the shelves I needed to get to...enough for some quick thinking to handle the rest. A girl eyeballing a Frampton Comes Alive re-re-release was first. I took the heel of my "Docs" and connected with her toes. I could feel the grinding "crunch" resonate through the boot. Before she could utter a peep, my hand, covering her face, gave her a stern shove to the side, bringing me closer to the prize.
Next up, the morbidly obese man who got a car key stabbed in to the area just below his arm pit. He recoiled backward, dropping the 5 or 6 vinyls he had in hand. The man thinks he might be having a stroke. I say this because he screamed "I'm having a stroke." Again, this loosens the shopping congestion. One guy left. Almost oblivious to the hub-bub, he looks up to see my lurching in. I reach down and grab the GWAR record. The man stops to comment, "Hey, I didn't know they were releasing that to..." Before he can finish his thought, I am gone. Already at the counter, with cash in hand (no trace of the transaction needed, thank you). I pay the clerk, and hustle back out. I hear some grumbling behind me as I quickly make my way to my car. And like that, I was gone. GWAR record in hand. Gone, as quickly as I entered. A memory in minutes, expect for an unfortunate few, who were between me and that album.
Eyewitness sketches courtesy of Karl Dahmer.
So, was it worth it.
Hell yes. Tracks blazing from my stereo that afternoon took me back to the first time I had heard them. Tracks like "Ham on the Bone" or "Crack in the Egg" rattled my office walls that afternoon. By the time I got to the second record, I was spent. THIS is why I love music and THIS is why I will shank you with a key and burn your face beyond recognition with boiling coffee. And to anyone who might question my actions, like the songs says, "baby quit your crying, put those clown britches on."
-Sisson/TROGLODYTE
Eyewitness sketch of author.
