Lunch Break Lacquer: The Fatman and The Ragmag (I found my thrill with some Fats Domino vinyl and vintage Rolling Stone mags)

Scroll through the gallery to see pics of the mag with Gregg & the Boys

 

Another beautiful day in London meant getting out of the office on my lunch break to claw through record bins in the eternal search for bow-down vinyl. I stopped into "On The Beat" records to see if anything jumped out at me. Something did...but it wasn't a piece of vinyl. Actually, it was a pile of old papers that got my big toe to shoot up in my boot.

 
In "On the Beat", aside from the crates of vinyl and other memorabilia, there are handfuls of New Music Express, Melody Maker and old Rolling Stone magazines hanging from the walls. The Rolling Stone mags are the coolest; most of them are in their original tabloid style, paper format.
 
There two that jumped out at me. One had an article from Hunter S. Thomson (see the post below for details and pics). The other I recognised straight away due to the image (illustration) of Gregg Allman on the cover. HA! YES! I found it!
 
I always have a list of "finds" when I go out looking for nuggets of buried treasure in shops like this.  The list includes pictures, books, vinyl, DVDs and yes, particular copies of Rolling Stone magazine. One of the items on my "List of Finds" was Rolling Stone, issue 149 from 3rd December, 1973.
 
This issue is important to me because of the cover story on the Allmans. Why? This was Cameron Crowes first "cover" that he wrote for the magazine...at 16 years of age! This is his "Almost Famous" based on a true story experience. I am a massive fan of the movie and admirer of Crowe. He was the right kid, at the right place, at the right time...(envious).  This one is going to go up on the shelf right next to my CC signed copy of the Almost Famous script
 
I took some pics of the mag and the article. 
  • Check out that full page spread of Gregg and the band in the middle of the article (reminded me of the scene in Almost Famous where Stillwater got their first t-shirt: Jeff Bebe, "How can you tell? I'm just one of the out-of-focus guys.").
  • Gotta love that pic of Dickey getting a tattoo
  • On the inside cover of the mag, there was a blurb on how the illustration of Gregg that graces the front came to be
  • And then there is last pic in the set from the mag. This appears at the end of the article. Wow. 16!
If you can get your hands on any of these "old 'Stones", do so. It is a trip to read through and get a feel for the times and happenings. 

Oh yeah!  I almost forgot. I did pick up a new slab of vinyl. I found me a good fats Domino album to help round out the collection: "Getaway with Fats Domino".  This is not the Fats album that is on my "List of Finds", but I couldn't help myself. 
 
p.s. the very last picture in this set is from the actual "On the Beat" shop.

From Blogs to Brussels, music is the great communicator (Albert King ain't too shabby either...)

I don't know how to speak French, but I sure know how to speak Albert King.  

I just returned from a weekend in Brussels where French is the primary language. I took French I and II in high school; I was horrible in both. Ironically my pitiful performance in these two classes resulted in the first set of double-"D's" I ever got my hands on in high school.

I can croak out a few random phrases: "shut the door", "what time is it", "I am cold/warm"; none of which are worth much without context. Such is the traveller's life. When you are not fluent in the local tongue you have to get by on common human connectors: laughter, winks, nods, smiles and, as I experienced this weekend, music.

Our train pulled into Brussels late Friday night. We were there to see the famous xmas markets and had a long day of roaming and wandering planned for Saturday.  Before we called Friday done and dusted, we popped into a nearby pub to wash down some eats with a few delicious Belgian brews. 

The next morning my wife was cracking the early morning whip and was hot to get started on our market tour. Before we cut a path, we stopped for coffee. Seated across from me, she put down her latte, smiled her "I'm on to you" smile and asked me, "so...did you find one"?

She knows me oh so well.

Before every trip we take, I always search out the local independent record shop/collectors. It is not always that I find "one", but I did in Brussels; fortunately it was right in the centre of town. It is also a thrill to flip through European record bins in hopes of finding some old time used to be. 

We walked the markets all day, tasted the local foods and drank much "chaud rouge" (hot red wine).  Once we had our fill of the markets, my wife wanted to rest weary bones in a local cafe. Perfect.  This was my window to self-indulge with a trip to the record shop. I wasn't exactly sure where it was, but I was hell-bent on finding it. 

As I was scurrying through the streets, I heard the sound of a lone guitar man playing and singing for the passers by. There were lots of street performers out that day, but only one was playing music to my ears: Creedence Clearwater Revival. I swore I heard some one playing CCR; not just your standard CCR ditty, but a relatively obscure CCR song: "Cotton Fields". I love this song. It was built for the foot-stomp and sing-a-longs and I partake in each every time I hear it. 

I followed the sound until I saw who was playing it. There he was sitting on a crate, a Pete Seeger look-a-like strumming on his amplified acoustic. "Cotton Fields"!?! Of all the songs in the CCR catalog, why the hell was he playing "Cotton Fields" and doing so in the middle of Brussels?  Questioning it would only ruin the sweet surprise of it all. Instead I threw him a handful of Euros and did what comes natural: tapped my foot and sang along. My guess was that I was the only person who knew that tune within earshot...and I loved that.

Here is a quick clip of him finishing the song...with a bit of help on vox from yours truly:

(download)

As soon as he was done, I made haste for the shop. After a few more lefts and rights, I was there: "The Collector Record Gallery".  The sign was a dead giveaway that I had arrived, but I knew that before I saw it. As I made my way up the street I could hear the loud, searing sting of Albert King's Flying V. 

The front window was full of vinyl, DVDs, books and CDs. Store front windows display their top wares in order to get people to come in to see what else is inside. This was a damn fine store front window. Inside there were a dozen or more serious vinyl flippers like myself. From what I could tell I was the only English speaking music freak in the shop. 

           
Click here to download:
From_Blogs_to_Brussels_music_i.zip (9482 KB)

Myself and five other guys were leaning on the counter positioned around the turntable.  None of us said a word, but we were speaking the same language: Albert King. Albert King was our translator. A few of us were rocking back and forth to his blues and everyone was smiling and nodding at one another.  This is why music is so damn cool. You don't have to understand the lyrics, you don't have to know what the hell the song is about...shit, you don't even have to know who is singing it. Ain't nothing to do but sit back and let the man play...

We all had a few blues albums under our arms ready to buy. I motioned to one of the guys to see what he has holding. He handed his stack over to me. This guy had taste: live Magic Sam, Fred McDowell and a Mike Bloomfeld bootleg. I smiled and shook my head in a approval and pretended to take them for my own! He reached out for them and shot me a "oh, no you don't" look and then chuckled. The other guys joined in for laugh, too. 

I paid for my selections, shook a few hands and then left the shop. 

I am continually amazed at the role music has had in my making friends and acquaintances all over the globe.  Whether it is through this blog or random record shops in Brussels, music has been my great communicator.

Hail, hail rock and roll...

 

If you ever get lonely, you just go to the record store and visit all your friends...

The first record I ever owned as 45 called, "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" by the Tokens. I was a young kid of about seven or eight years old and I played that record until the needle wore through its grooves. It was the sweeping falsettos that hooked me.  But what I loved even more was the loping, rhythmic, tribal beat that drove the song. I feel strongly that my love of the blues was spawned from repeated listenings of this infamous song.  One of the other records of my formative-music fan years that used to get a lot of spins was the Best of the Monkees. "Last Train to Clarksville" and "Papa Gene's Blues" were faves. 
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In the movie, Almost Famous, Kate Hudson's "Penny Lane" character said, "If you ever get lonely, you just go to the record store and visit all your friends".  So true...

This weekend 17 different countries will celebrate Record Store Day.  RSD was created by a handful of record store fans as a "...celebration of the unique culture surrounding over 700 independently owned record stores in the USA, and hundreds of similar stores internationally". Have a look at the website to check out all the happenings. 

I agree with the idea around celebrating the "unique culture" that inhabits the independent record store.  I have a record shop.  It is called Mojo Records and it is located on York St. in downtown Sydney. Mojo, the self-proclaimed "Kings of the Back Catalogue", is more than just a record shop.  It is a place where people are "regulars" on Thursdays and Friday nights. It is a place where people come to share music and stories about music for hours on end. It is a place where a common bond found in music brings together disparate groups of strangers and friends and turns them into "family". And, it is a place where a blues lick can draw you off the street and into the shop and never let you go.

When I first found Mojo, I was walking down York and I heard the unmistakable tremble of Muddy Water's slide action boucing off the buildings on both side of the street. I looked around for the shop and saw that it sat below the street at basement level...subterranean...buried treasure. The front shop window stretched from the footpath up to my waist and ran close to fifteen feet in length. I hovered over it and paced back and forth, all the while staring down at the collection of records, people, cds and posters inside. I was locked in.

Once inside, I saw a few people leaning on the counter, beers in hands, talking just loud enough so they could hear each other over Muddy's "Long Distance Call". There were a few more people flipping through the record and CD racks.  The owner, Nev, came over to introduce himself to me.  Within 15 minutes, he had me holding five albums, five "bow-down" albums, that were a money back guarantee promise of hidden gem goodness. Nev is a man of his word.

Fast forward two years later, my wife organised a surprise birthday party in the shop.  I am a Friday regular.  I stop down after work with a couple six-packs of beer (always Cooper's Red) and stay until closing time...which is whenever we decide we want to close up. That particular Friday was my birthday. Little did I know my wife talked with Nev and his right-hand man Uncle Frank and set up the festivities. It was Mojo's first birthday party.  By 6:30pm, the place was packed with twenty odd people listening to music, swapping stories, having a few beers and eating a record shaped cake.  We kept on until about midnight and when we were just about to leave, Nev called out "one more song"!  Nev put some Jimmy Dawkins on...a dozen songs, a bunch of stories and a few more beers later, we called it a night. Now that's Mojo; happy birthday indeed.
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Just yesterday I was at Mojo.  I went to see Booker T and the Drive-By Truckers perform last night and needed to get the "feel" going before the gig. Nev and I talked about what we were doing for RSD.  There is going to be a two-piece band and a book signing by a local artist. People are going to start coming by around 3:00pm. Nev is going to have some vinyl specials going.  I already put three aside to get when I go in: Derek & the Dominoes, "Layla", The Allmans, "Live at the Fillmore" and Otis Redding's, "Otis Blue".  My wife gave me a turntable for Christmas and I need to get some vinly and give it a spin. My music collection is 1,300+ albums strong (98% fat free).  I can't replace it all, but I am going to pick out some choice sets worthy of the black stuff.  Have a look at the collection if you like: Judd's Juke Joint.

If you want to see Mojo in person, come on down next Saturday.  It is sure to be a bow-down event. Oh yeah, bring a rack of beer if you like...Cooper's Red.

p.s. That 45 I was talking about?  I still have it.  My mom framed it for me and gave it to me as a gift a couple years ago. Records don't have to spun on a turn table to tell great stories.

               
Click here to download:
If_you_ever_get_lonely_you_jus.zip (3814 KB)

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