Saw this in the kitchen at work yesterday and had to yoink it. An esteemed apology to my coworkers for a missing Arts section in Tuesday’s edition of the Times. (I’ll be more than happy to return it now that this has been posted.)
I’ve yet to fully read the article, but it looks as though Mr. Claas Brieler and his 25k collection made it into the new book, Dust & Grooves. Congrats to him and to record collectors everywhere. The bar has been set, if only momentarily.
The gift of Bis (apparently) comes from seemingly every avenue of social media. The story goes like this… I’d acquired a sealed LP of Bis’ 1997 debut, The New Transistor Heroes, from the now defunct Grand Royal Records, and for reasons I’m not at liberty to discuss, I never opened it. Fast forward to a few days ago when I’m trolling Instagram and someone whom I follow posts a recent record purchase of a used copy of said Bis album, and expressed how happy they were about the bonus 7” within.
Cut to me dropping my phone onto the floor and rushing to the “B” section of the library, where I carefully knife open the 17-year-old virgin record and discover the sly 7”.
A good day for discovering a record I’d already owned.
I’m thinking black… cream and sugar are for half-witted-ninny-poops. No disrespect to the half-witted-ninny-poops. Coffee, like most music, is best served dark. Diluting the base w/ cream makes for chocolate milk, and what self-respecting-half-assed-adult wants chocolate milk? Drink your coffee like a terrorist, established in 1979.
A hearty thanks to JWick1 for this amazing double LP (proper post forthcoming). Arthur (or the Decline and Fall of the British Empire) is a personal fav, and this graduated version is, simply put, the bee’s knees. A collector and avid Kinks fan cannot go wrong with both mono and stereo versions of this outstanding album. Thanks again, senior choch!
Might I suggest a little heavy, summer reading? The Story of Crass by George Berger is a fascinating explosion of intricate and fundamental knowledge of perhaps the only true punk band the world has ever known. The art collective formally known as Crass has always been somewhat of an illusive mystery to me, save for the rough, crude, and politically charged music. Whether you’re a fan of social equality, anti-war sentiments, or just plain into rock music history, The Story of Crass is nothing short of essential reading material, and comes highly recommended by the Prudent Groove. 
So, Room 237 was something… and so was its soundtrack. Composed and created by Jonathan Snipes & William Hutson, this ominous and eerie soundscape is perfect, no… PERFECT blanket noise for that special evening when the boring normality of the everyday meets the heightened expectations of the ethereally abnormal. Essentially, a bullshit way of saying that this soundtrack is meant to unease your tensions, while drawing you in for the big score, like a discounted (free toppings) soft serve. Is this something you could rock every Tuesday on your way to the telecine studio, well, no, but it’s certainly something worth having at the ready if and when the peculiar strikes.
Squeeze’s first album is a fantastic, British firework of pop explosion. Here, it’s presented in fire-red vinyl, with the sticker promoting the classic, Take Me, I’m Yours. I can offer nothing more than this printed, advertisement, and an early morning photo of said fire-red record. If you don’t know Squeeze, you don’t know. 
As the long-told, infrequently-forgotten story goes, the sunshine-happy-give-us-your-money band featured on the back cover of Dead Kennedy’s debut, Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables was used without the band’s consent, and resulted in a threatened lawsuit causing variations of the Bay area’s backside cover art. LA-based Sounds of Sunshine (aforementioned sunshine-happy-give-us-your-money band), wasn’t quite satisfied with their work-around beheading, and the Dead Kennedy’s were forced to come up with a new back cover concept altogether (replaced the sunshine-happy-give-us-your-money band sans heads with four vintage living room-dwellers sitting under a framed Alternative Tentacles logo… subsequent lawsuit forthcoming).
If any morals are to be learned from this tug-and-pull fiasco, they are forever silenced by the timeless music contained within.
The magnificent beast of violent vulgarity sat crying on a damp, dusty slab. Under the weight of 78 tears, the Devil weighed his options, and settled on inevitable defeat. Not even Harry James and his Orchestra could coerce the Devil from his lamenting hysteria, and the Devil knew it. His number had been called, and he knew it was his turn.
He had been licked, this sultry workhorse, and the new champion was ushered in atop a crowd of hope, and a flock of aspiration. He knew he was no longer feared, and with that, he knew there was nothing left. The world stood by with gaping mouths, as The Devil Sat Down and Cried.
I broke the mold of tradition yesterday and removed the shrink wrap that bound my copy of Double Nickels on the Dime, the Minutemen’s timeless magnum opus. It has become habit for me to neatly slice the plastic along the sleeve opening, preserving the virgin cover, back, and in this case, gatefold center.
I’d never owned Double Nickels in any format until I found this reissue, so I was more than amazed when I released the fruits of this gatefold for the very first time. Aside from the usual credits and a collage of action band shots are seven drawing by Raymond Pettibon I’d never seen before. Famous first throughout the Southern California early punk scene, then the world over, Mr. Pettibon’s art ranges from morally exposing to minimalist shock, which, after reading this again, does absolutely no justice to either the style of his characters, or the weight of his foreboding, and ominous messages. His often humorous take on the vulgar details of moral principles (many struggle their whole lives to ignore) raise a sense of loaded guilt that makes you want to go out and punch an elected official in the face, but you know… in a good way.
And why is it so difficult to find in LA? Oh well… the search continues…
So often do priceless nuggets of cultural significance go overlooked. Featured, as far as I can tell, ONLY on the back of 1981’s The Punch Line LP (15 mins for 18 songs…), this industrial landscape not only shows promise of conviction, it also showcases the many, astute talents of an already gifted musician, George Hurley (drummer for Minutemen).
Like so many onion-like layers of creative mystique the Minutemen continue to provide, this alternate, artistic expression by one of the world’s best drummers, Mr. George Hurley, was / is good enough for cover art, but for a prolific band such as this, takes sidecar, and settles for a prominent, yet secondary place on the back cover.
No filler did plague the Minutemen. History has converted this opinion into fact.
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I’ve recently found… that “tough” in fact, ISN’T spelled with an “8” (to8gh). That’s just something I’m going to have to learn to live with. IN THE MEANTIME… whatever happened to Billy Ocean?!
Seen here is a not-so-recent action shot of my current digitizing setup. My analog converting process has now become a tradition, whose technology has been wholly embraced.
I just wanted to share a pleasant little discovery I made this past weekend while watching Stanley Kubrick’s A Clockwork Orange. Pausing, shot by shot through Alex’s (record) hunting scene, I noticed a familiar album cover behind the cleverly placed 2001 soundtrack in the “Underground” section.
Rushing to the collection, I confirmed that peaking behind A Space Odyssey was Fever Tree’s 1968 debut, Fever Tree. Nothing Earth-shattering, but a fun discovery nonetheless.
(Apologies for the hastily taken photos)
Likely offered by a swagger-heavy, weight-showcasing, morally questionable record distributor to a (less than known) San Fernando Valley country music DJ (for a bootlegged case of high-octane tequila), this 1978 album of live material by the late, great Waylon Jennings is branded, not unlike a herd of grass-eating, nose-licking bovines, with this shimmering, gold flaked, “Demonstration Not For Sale” imprint.
I’ve seen many a promo in my day, but I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of eyeing one with gold leaf. This here, was a promo with promise! Probably purchased by a prima donna wearing plaid pants.
RCA Victor, with their Popular Collector’s Issue series, and their motto, “The Stars who make the Hits are on RCA Victor Records,” have manifested an abnormally eloquent designed 45 sleeve, as evident by these shoes on the feet of this Glenn Miller box of singles.
His Master’s Voice was certainly not in need of top-of-the-line design, as evident by their continued, timeless, design.
Percy Faith is, in fact, NOT a dirty-nosed socialite unwilling to show her teeth when faking a smile, but instead, a master of mood music essentials. A Canadian who reigned throughout the 50s and 60s, Mr. Faith recorded into the mid-70s until his untimely death of cancer in 1976. This, a Taiwanese bootleg record on Taiwanese colored vinyl, serves as a subtle homage to a favored orchestral composer.
There is absolutely no shame in erupting into a volcanic burst of pure, adolescent excitement every once in a while. My most recent enthusiastic explosion was upon discovering this single by the illustrious (yet short lived) electro-pop outfit, C&C Music Factory. Their unforgettable, 1990 effort, Gonna Make You Sweat (Everybody Dance Now) was a personal turning point for me, as this was one of the first two compact discs I’d ever owned.
Graduating to the new, crisp sound would come back to haunt me, however, as my instinctive decisions were something I’ve never been able to shake off. Had I known my compulsive hobby would have turned out the way it has, I may have reconsidered my first “official” music choices. I’ve since, over the years, learned to own these erroneous decisions, and am slowly approaching the level of embracement. Now, if I can only find Please Hammer Don’t Hurt ‘Em, recapturing my tweens would be all but complete.
The Prudent Groove 