Old writing: Thrift Store Shopper
This is another old piece of writing I did while on the clock at my hospital job in 1999. While I’m not quite as strident about record-buying as I used to be, this certainly sums up my attitude at the time quite well.
***********
Lower Your Standards:A Misguided Wham!-Loving Record Buyer Speaks Out
Like a lot of folks, I depend on the thrift stores for my music collection. If you are persistent enough, you can amass a pretty nice variety without spending too much hard-earned dough. This hobby tends to keep me away from the mall stores, which, no one will argue, are completely soul-less; but I also shy away from the hipster stores that sell old vinyl. While there is a certain appeal to the latter type of establishment, I find that my record collection is far better and more varied because of my dedication to a thrift-only philosophy.
Most of this has to do with me and my idiosyncrasies, but some of it just makes good sense. In any case it has become a mater of principal for me. Last year, for reasons which are best left unexamined, I had occasion to walk out of the Salvation Army with a copy of Wham! ‘s smash hit album, Make it Big. While initially a perplexing and perhaps disturbing purchase, the album has come to be a great source of pleasure to me. Everyone has music like this in his or her life; it needs no further explanation. Now, let’s say for the sake of argument that I would have been able to find Make it Big in the snooty vinyl store. I don’t think I would have picked it up, carried it under my arm for 30 minutes while I looked around, and ultimately brought it to the counter and paid for it. This is just the way I am. Plus, there is no way that the little smart asses behind the register would be able to restrain themselves from snide commentary. At its best, record buying is supposed to be about taking chances; I don’t need that kind of crap tainting the experience. And I certainly don’t need to showoff my musical taste; it’s embarrassing enough as it is.
The real reason I don’t shop at these places is because they are so clogged with techno, free jazz, and flavor of the month indie crap, I feel like they don’t need to co-opt older music too. If you shop at thrift stores, flea markets, and garage sales, there are some records that you see all over the place. Even the casual scrounger could own most of the Mitch Miller or 101 Strings albums 10 times over (that is, if he wanted to). It makes you wonder why anyone would pay a lot for some of these things. Yes some places have the gall to mark up this stuff-even if you can walk down the street and find it for a quarter. Sometimes I think I’ll go insane if I see Phil Collins’ limey-ass mug onto more time, so who would pay more than a buck for one of his albums? I guess Phil Collins fans are the only ones unbalanced enough.
Anyhow this phenomenon has actually helped me come to a realization. Why not value a record simply for its ubiquity? Not all of these ever-present gems are terrible pieces of work. And the condition of a record is not all it’s cracked up to be. I am rather weary of the collector’s mentality that values rarity and condition above all else. There is something to be said for titles that you can actually find if you go out looking for them. The Bee Gees make me just as happy as Captain Goddamn Beefheart. And I don’t care if my Barry Manilow’s Greatest Hits is scratched during “New York City Rhythm,” I just want to listen to the damn thing when I’m mopping the floor. No one wants to spend 5 bucks for a flawless one at the record shop, because it’s still Barry-freakin-Manilow.
It is about time these kinds of records got recognized, God knows there are enough of them to go around. It is also absolutely essential, in my opinion, to appreciate how an album has been played. Any copy of Blizzard Oz in the thrift store will most likely be scratched and worn to shit; that, I submit, is half the point. Especially with heavy metal. If the metal album of your choice is not somewhat fucked up in appearance, it has not been broken-in. He who owns a flawless Motorhead album is most assuredly a poser in the most complete and irrefutable way. I have a Journey record with written notes on the jacket next to each song. It seems the previous owner was a member of a Journey cover band and wanted to scrawl out some reminders about how to play every tune. This is Rock and Roll “patina” right here in front of us-the glorious wear and tear of many a year. You don’t get this shit in the other stores with their shiny sleeves and plastic covers. These so-called imperfections testify to the greatness of a musical work, its package, and the extent to which it was enjoyed in its time. It’s like learning a new language. People who want unplayed, “like new”, mint condition records have picked a misguided, frustrating, and limiting method of pursuin their hobby.
Like many others, I will take my chances sorting through the leaning towers of rock and roll records every weekend. I won’t walk away empty handed, broke, or stupid.
