Agreeing With Tony

Please check out Tony's most recent post on the demise of Tower Records. I, too, lament Tower's passing but see it unfortunately as a self-inflicted wound. A megastore such as Tower had, in all its power, the ability and choice to offer lower prices on its goods. I must say, however, in its favor, Tower did have just about the greatest selection anywhere. I will, vulture-style, help pick the carcass clean as the stores liquidate their inventory at now-reasonable prices.

I also lament something else: the death of the "record store". As a child of the 80s, I truly lost my music virginity at the age of 9; I was really into purchasing music in junior high. By high school, I was a musical fiend. While buying all of my stuff on tapes (I was just about the last of my friends to move to digital), I absolutely LOVED the experience of perusing the record section of music stores.
Now, I must explain something: if you know me, you know I'm a passive and timid person, the first-born of my family and one that never wants to rock the boat. I'm one that also really struggles to try new things and often stick to what I know. Tower Records was a place that I didn't really know for a long time as its well-lit and clean floors intimidated me as well as the rows and rows of tapes, lp's and cd's. See, I am a Rasputin fan. Not the best, definitely not the cleanest and sometimes not the cheapest, Rasputin's Records, however, is my favorite music store on the planet. The closest store is in Pleasant Hill, (in high school) a half-hour away (with the growth out here, it's closer to an hour). Twice a week, I'd hop in my car by myself and head to Rasputin's just to wander the aisles, look at the stock, listen to terrible indie-punk music piped through the speakers, look at the posters and maybe sometimes buy a cd. Lp's moved farther and farther to the back of the store by the early 90s but I would always visit them, often spending lots of time in the dollar bin section. Like William Miller in the beginning of "Almost Famous" touching and caressing the lp covers wondering what treasures lay in the grooves of the vinyl, I would spend hours at this place checking out artists I never had heard (and many still have not heard). It took several years but I also began perusing the cd aisles like the lp aisles, choosing random artists and rummaging through their catalogues. To this day, there are artists whom I've never listened to but I can tell you album art, production credits, song listings and other minutiae simply because I spent so much time with those stupid lp's and cd's. Like Penny Lane said, "whenever you're feeling lonely, you just go to the record store and visit your old friends". Now, I know Tony and the other of our ilk and, again to quote AF, to paraphrase Lester Bangs, "we're not cool". To make an outing of visiting a record store and not buy anything but go simply because one of the pillars of the faith mandates at least a weekly visit defines me and my friends. Steve, you and I were separated at birth (By the way, Portela, I've never told you this story: shortly after the release of the Allman Brothers' Fillmore 70 show, I was wandering Tower on Blackstone and, starting with the As, moved to see, if by any divine intervention, a cd by the Allmans would pop up that I didn't have. While of course nothing new had popped up, so I moved down the alphabet. Some guy, slightly taller than me with black hair and a five o'clock shadow, approached me and started talking shop about the Allman Brothers Band, this new vault release, how cool the band was at the time (mid-1997) and a little history of the Duane era. The conversation lasted maybe three to five minutes but all these years, you're the only one who fits the description of this anonymous brother-in-arms ABBfiendwhojustrandomlyapproachespeopleintherecordstoretosharethegoodnewsoftheABB. Actually, THAT you can print!) and Chris, you know this is you as well. In fact, tomorrow afternoon, we'll probably be living out this memory before the Mule show tomorrow night!
Remember having to wash your hands after visiting the record section? Remember the dusty feeling in your fingerprint grooves, the smell of years of neglect on the vinyl and cardboard and the rush of stacking up fifteen to twenty dollar-priced lp's in anticipation for your arrival at home to listen to these newly-discovered treasures? Much of my love for "older" music (my favorite and the best kind, circa 1968-1974) comes from building up my inexpensive lp collection. Why is it that I knew who Linda Ronstadt's rhythm section was in 1976, that Thin Lizzy had three lineup changes and Asia's album covers resembled Yes's and Iron Maiden's but never looked as cool as Boston's first two covers? Who the hell was Mott the Hoople but why did their album cover of "Mott" with the spotlight and the glam outfits just look inviting? Maybe the historian in me always jumps out at the record store but the older stuff seemed more inticing simply because it had a history to it; new things (except babies, of course) haven't had the chance to prove their worth, regardless of how good they are. Most of the old stuff, especially the stuff you never listened to but always loved their covers, aged like the best Bordeaux. You just KNEW it was good and by listening to it only proved your belief. I'd love to hear people's stories of the first time ever listening to music that was old but untouched; what was it like to finally throw on that twenty-year old album your dad kept but stopped listening to? I can tell you my first experience with "Born To Run" but will spare you here.
Tower Records, maybe I'll even wear black when I visit you next time. Maybe you'll have those two Miles cd's at reasonable prices. Have they been remastered just yet?