is the word 'diary' better than the word 'blog'? probably not.
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I AM ON THE SIDE OF THE RECORDS.
OK. So first, I loaded the records into my dad�s car. Then I felt sick. Then panicky. Then I unloaded them. Then I reloaded them. Then I thought, I should photograph more of the covers. Then I thought, man, just get in the car and SELL them. Then I stood there, looking at them, wondering if I should go back up the stairs to get the camera. No. Maybe? No. I got in the car. I drove towards the Haight, where I would sell them at Amoeba. I kept thinking maybe I should take them back home, look at them, make sure I was doing the right thing, sell them tomorrow. Then I�d mentally slap myself and keep driving. I got a parking space complete with my own crazy person (hello haight street) right in front. Unloaded. The man judged my records. We discussed some of my rare European-version releases. And Bowie's clear vinyl. And the weird price-fixing sticker on my Promo copy of Chameleons UK (Script of the Bridge). Also, the funny cover art of Jealous Again (Black Flag). I blabbed a bit about the craziness of my emotional attachment to the records. He said that music is memory so there�s nothing crazy about it. And so on. He offered me some money. I asked about the big stack of records in bad shape he was taking but paying very little for. He said it�s like a by-the-pound deal for records that are damaged. I said, well, I�m going to look through those and see whether any of them are worth keeping to me instead of letting them go for that low price. I did. I pulled out twenty. He began to draw up the papers. I looked at my twenty records and was overcome by an intense nausea. What the hell am I going to do with twenty records, I thought. Really. What!? What is my problem? I looked at them again, kept three, took my money, and drove home.
About five blocks into the drive home I was struck by a pain in the gut, thinking that maybe I should have kept the badly damaged copy of Faith by The Cure, because some record nerd somewhere wants that cover art, or that rare-ish release. But some record nerd is going to find it for cheap at Amoeba and tell the story of it for the rest of his life, and I�m fine being part of that chain of good fortune.
The minute I thought about maybe-should-have keeping Faith, it spiraled out to include Japanese Whispers, and then Siouxsie�s Juju. And oh my god I didn�t take a picture of the European release of Love by The Cult. Or my Bauhaus "Kick in the Eye" single, or the New Order "Blue Monday" 12" single that looks like a floppy disk. And so on. But I tell you it�s OK. They are gone. What I feel mostly is relief.
But you are wondering what I kept. 1) Soundtrack to The Jungle Book. That�s right, the Disney cartoon movie. It was one of my first and most favorite records as a child, after the orange Beatles Greatest Hits album. (But I sold that one.) 2) Duran Duran�s first album with the rare photo, all the DD guys looking super young and new-romantic awkward-dorky, before it was re-released after they got their big record-deal makeovers, with a much more slickglossy cover photo. It seemed a shame to let it go for nothing. Someone will want to pay me for it on eBay, scratches and all. Or I won�t be able to sell it, whether that be physically or emotionally. 3) A Heaven 17 album I�ve never seen for sale on eBay or anywhere else.
There�s little sense to how I came to keep those three instead of three others. And sure, I could have made a lot more money, at least double, if I had sold many of them individually on eBay. But that sounds like work. The photographing? The listing? The dealing with crazy people�s questions, and then the people who bid and win and then never pay, and ugh, the SHIPPING of record albums? No, Mr. Kindly Amoeba man, help me end this quickly.
Oh, and Marco gets an early pressing of Never Mind the Bollocks for $20, because that�s what he wanted when he was drunk. And then also later when he was sober.
I also still have a bunch of quirky little singles released by my friends Chas and Kamran. Just like many of you have all the back issues of h2so4.
(And if you don�t have those back issues, and you want them, well, you can still have them. I haven�t totally dealt with that hoarding situation yet.)
Many of you will be alarmed by all this, I know this well. Because. As I was making my final decision to sell the records, I kept rehearsing my anxieties aloud, and 80% of people would get on the side of the records, and me keeping them.
I would say: listen. I don�t have a turntable. I don�t want a turntable. I don�t want to ship the records to New York. I don�t want to store the records in New York. The records have been in Jeff�s basement for four years and I rarely thought about them, and when I did think about them, it was in the form of �ugh, I have to deal with that� and not �yay, I still have my records.� It makes no sense to keep them.
And yet 80% of people would still insist: you'll regret it. I feared they were right, right down to my gut (see paragraph 1). But now that I've done it, I doubt they're right. And if they are right, even that will be OK. It is the kind of regret that a person can really live with, you know?
If I had a turntable. If I were a rich man. If I had never left San Francisco, and had a huge apartment with lots of storage and leftover stereo equipment from my dad, then yes, I would keep the records and even play them sometimes. But that counts as alternate-universe thinking, and I live in this world, in Brooklyn New York. And now I have decreased the weight of my worldly burden by roughly 100 pounds. It feels just fine.
Also. I went through and bought some pertinent songs on iTunes. The records will not be forgotten.
It�s also nice to think that my records are going to end up in the hands of young hipsters or old aficionados who will PLAY them instead of storing them in the basement of the ex-husband of one of their friends. You see, I AM ON THE SIDE OF THE RECORDS. The end.
4:15 p.m. - January 05, 2009
texas cousin - 2009-01-06 01:17:43
You know I had a sad parting with my 1000+ jazz LP collection to a little record shop in Hudson, NY. The owner paid me partially with a check signed over from his mom.
"We reject those things which are unnecessary and superficial, because we know they are what John Woolman called 'cumber' - things which clog up our life and divert us from what really matters."
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js - 2009-01-06 02:07:11
oh! i was wondering about your records as i sold mine.... wow. but, yeah, it's ok, isn't it?
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sduckie - 2009-01-06 07:57:41
It will be okay. There is plenty of stuff on this planet, and sooner or later we have to let everything go.... :)
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josiah leet - 2009-01-06 20:46:41
"I'm the King of the Swingers, oh, the jungle VIP...I've reached the top, had to stop and that's whatsa' botherin' me..." KING LOUIS PRIMA !
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big m - 2009-01-06 20:49:30
You know I've been thinking about how much I listened to your records as we were growing up, freaking out, loving music, finding our answers and escapes... I wanted to go pick through the pile and fish a few out myself, but you've done yourself a favor to get the job done, tough as it may be. Maybe you'll make a mix cd set of your favorite songs from the lot...
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Angela - 2009-01-06 21:31:51
I've considered getting rid of some very old LPs I've stolen from my parents over the years, but I held onto them because of the super cute LP holder/conversation piece I found in an antique store about 4 years ago. But as luck would have it, my brother received a USB LP to CD converter (I think it's called) for Christmas. Then, in about 3 months when he gets around to copying them, I'll sell the records. I understand your dilemma, but I'm glad I waited.
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puhmeow - 2009-01-07 04:46:21
Congratulations. It is not in our genes to purge. binge yes. purge no. [All my records were lost in the Adventures in Kentucky portion of my life.]
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js - 2009-01-07 16:14:36
I was going to write a bit about my family's hoarding proclivity, including my dad's impressive herd of guitars (and stereo equipment and televisions and, oh, it's a big list), and my relationship to shoes and clothes. but then I realized I'm going to have to do a bit more mental archaeology before I manage that tiny essay. ha!
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