Canon opened. Sound and lyrics. Like Earth Crisis. It was 1994. Sold.
I didn't pick up the seven inch that day. When I got it. I realized they were from Newtown.
At some point after graduating high school and flunking out of college I took some classes at Bucks County Community College. I met Ryan. Likely through Denise. We had sold out by this point. We both ended up at Temple.
We would go out. I would pass out on his couch. We would discuss less hardcore. More Morrissey. More Dave Matthews. Yes. Dave Matthews.
I haven't seen Ryan in years. I think he ended up going to music school. At least I remember hearing that.
Canon - The Solution. I sold my copy. To Sean. He wanted it because it featured a member of Frail. He was my Frail dumping ground. Acquired the mp3s on Coregasm. I think Tim pointed me in that direction.
She was a sophomore. She mentioned my Strife sweatshirt. Or some other piece of straight edge wear. I met Lane through the Strife sweatshirt. Probably confusing my memories.
Jen lived down the hall. She was from Allentown. Emmaus. She was into hardcore. Had been. You wouldn't have known. At least. What I thought a girl into hardcore should look like.
Or would look like.
She wasn't involved in the scene at school. In town. But had been involved during high school. She loved Blindside. Pinstripe. Lifetime. Turning Point. I have the Turning Point tape. A black tape.
She dated McCabe. Slept with. One or the other. Both.
I knew Sean. It made me slightly uncomfortable. Briefly.
We ended up dating. For a year. Through the summer. Visited her in Lexington. Internship.
I sold out while we dated. I'm sure it played a role. Girls often do.
Ten years later. I finally stopped.
I was kicked out of housing. At the end of the year. Not ten years later. Ink & Dagger - The Fine Art of Original Sin. Originally picked up at Generation Records. Sold. Re-acquired during the Initial Records sale at Very Distribution.
North of Fairmount Avenue. East of Fairmount. Aka. Art Museum Area. South of Girard Avenue.
I like the neighborhood.
Eating take out with the local drug dealer. His girlfriend was friendly.
Pulled over once. For armed robbery. It was around five am.
Three dollar cheese steaks.
Vodka Sparks. King Cobra. Ninety-nine cents. King Cobra.
Helmets. Christmas trees.
Making a turkey.
Screen doors. Holes in walls. Grilling. Long grass.
Take out. (City View.) Television. Afternoons. Late nights. Early mornings. Sleeping on the couch. Fully clothed. On the floor. Eagles-Patriots. Cornish hen. Air hockey. Beavis and Butthead. Cigarettes. Off-street parking. 108 video. Anderson. Gino. Mattress.
Ryan. Nick. Travis.
7 Seconds - The Crew. Borrowed and returned to Travis. Along with Lifetime. The seven inches.
But until a few months ago. Finding new bands. New music. Consumed an unhealthy amount of my time.
I don't know what happened. Did things pass me by? Was new music boring? Did I not understand it? Or maybe that was it. I had gotten too old. Over thirty.
I had noted the change in myself. And then I started telling people. Telling them what I had realized. I had no desire to find anything new.
My friends could post links to bands. Not interested.
A band I had heard or read about would be playing Making Time. Not interested.
Replace making time with The Khyber. The North Star. Johnny Brenda's. Not interested.
My friends would get bands for their DJ nights. Not interested.
I couldn't put forth the effort. The time. The money. To look into new bands.
My position was clear. My new position.
I would seek out old bands. Which were new to me. Soft Machine for example.
I would seek out releases by bands I used to listen to. Hardcore. Punk rock. Grunge. Industrial. Indie.
So nostalgic of me. Related to aging. I assumed.
Or. I would seek out and purchase new material from bands I already listened to. Or their members. Stereophonics. Ian Brown. Gorillaz. Oasis. Babyshambles. Erasure. Manic Street Preachers.
I got past it. Thankfully. I still follow my new position. The new parameters. But no longer do I limit myself to them. I have been seeking out new music. Again.
I was in a rut. The rut had less to do with music. And more to do with life.
The house where Christian set a paper mache egg on fire. In the middle of the table. Running fingers through candles.
I also have a handful of music memories from the living room.
I think we only watched MTV. Or. Mostly MTV.
My earliest memory of AC/DC. My earliest memory of Elton John. And also my first exposure to the word gay. As explained to us by Irene. During that earliest memory of Elton John.
And my earliest memory of Living Colour.
Cult of Personality. And Body Glove wet suit.
Christian enjoyed surfing. The wet suit stood out. Less for it being ridiculous. More for it being related to surfing.
I bought the tape. Well. My mom bought the tape. Shortly after the visit.
Living Colour - Pride. I'd really like to get my hands on the separate albums as well. In compact disc form. Not cassette.
March of 1993 was my first trip overseas. Family vacation. London. Ireland.
That trip. Like most going forward. My focus would be music. Purchasing.
The Suede debut would be my favorite find. Animal Nitrate was everywhere.
I also picked up a compilation. Loaded.
Primal Scream. Lenny Kravitz. Morrissey. Dinosaur Jr. Carter the Unstoppable Sex Machine. Faith No More. Suede. Radiohead. Eclectic mix.
This was my first exposure to Radiohead. Not Creep. But Anyone Can Play Guitar.
Soon. Creep was everywhere. Maybe it was everywhere before my trip. I didn't notice.
I gave the Loaded compilation to Kim. I hope she still enjoys it. Radiohead - Pablo Honey. I owned this. I sold this. I bought it for my brother. I ripped it. He lost it. Only has the case. For Andrew.
MTV News had a segment about compact discs. Those discs using creative packaging. Creative. Inventive. Different.
The piece dates from the early days of the compact disc. Earlier days. During the transition period. Tape to disc.
Airing around the time I started buying discs. Long box era. The discs were taking packaging to another level. I do not remember any in particular. Eurythmics. Possibly.
The segment showed the different ways labels were packaging their releases.
This may or may not have stoked my interest in unique packaging. But I certainly remember it.
I don't think I have ever made a purchase because of that. The packaging. But I will always defer to the more creative package. Of a band I already listen to.
Pet Shop Boys. Super Furry Animals. Spiritualized.
I once got into a bidding war on eBay over a Spacemen 3 compact disc with a gel filled case. I lost. I quit at fifty dollars.
INXS. I've heard. Welcome to Wherever You Are. Maybe not. Judith told me. The case becomes a box. Maybe not. Wrong album? Maybe.
An underutilized method of expression. Costs more. Compact discs don't sell. Less and less likely. To see more and more.
"They are kind of like The Cardigans. Without the female vocals."
They definitely are not. Love them both. But. The only thing they have in common. Is their motherland.
I wish every band from Sweden sounded like Abba. Secret wish. Not so secret.
John talked up Kent. I had never heard them. But they were added to my mental. And physical. "Must look for" list. Word of mouth. Sufficient reason.
I didn't find a Kent album until after leaving Syracuse. Flipping through compact discs at the Princeton Record Exchange. I wasn't even looking for it. Although it was on my list. I found it. Used. A promo. What luck.
Michaela put me in touch with John. Facebook. I thanked him for introducing me to Kent. He probably thought I was crazy.
Kent - Isola. Found at the Princeton Record Exchange. For Erin.
I loved my parents records when I was a little kid. Very little.
Blondie. Talking Heads. Rolling Stones.
Blondie's "Accidents Never Happen" was a childhood favorite. The childhood favorite. Predating my love affair with Culture Club. By a few years. They would be the first band I was into. Legitimately into.
I would sing it in the family room. It could have been worse. It could have been show tunes.
I rediscovered their vinyl in middle school. I would flip through the records. And sneak them away to my bedroom. Jimmy Buffett. The Who. The Beatles. Neil Young. Bob Dylan. Kenny Rogers. Billy Joel. Elton John. The Doors (what the fuck was I thinking?).
A lot of Linda Ronstadt records. A lot. They belonged to my mother. Wrong. So very wrong. My dad was a fan. A huge fan. Apparently.
My mom owned some of the more interesting items. Her 45s were pretty bubblegum. The Monkees. Rick Springfield. (Big General Hospital fan. I think that was his show.)
Oh. Iron Butterfly.
Some favorites. That were new to me. Country Joe and the Fish. And. Mott the Hoople.
Mott the Hoople. What a name. Terrible name. Country Joe and the Fish is a pretty bad name. But Mott the Hoople?
I like it. It's stuck with me. Over the years. Mott the Hoople - Mott. Christmas 2007. For Dave.
So began my Moog fascination. Not that I can play. Care to play. Or will every play.
I loved that first Rentals record. I never heard anything else.
I had already been into the sound. I just didn't know it. I had be picking up Stereolab releases from 1993 on. The Group Played. Space Age Bachelor Pad Music.
Now the sound had a name.
The fascination peaked a few years later. When I was purchasing anything and everything related to Momus. Kahimi Karie. Laila France. And things marginally related. Cornelius. Takako Minekawa. Buffalo Daughter. By marginally. I mean Japanese.
The fascination may not be what it once was. The interest will always remain.
It must have been 1994. Since I bought a promo of Diary during the 1994 World Cup in Dallas, Texas.
Paging through the Sub Pop catalog I came across a seven inch. Sunny Day Real Estate. Released on One Day I Stopped Breathing.
The description. My first encounter with the term "Emocore." There was a definition. Emotional hardcore. Or something to that extent.
Mentioned: Fugazi. Shudder to Think. I said to myself "I guess I listen to emocore." I didn't buy the seven inch.
I discovered I had been listening to a lot of "emocore." Until I heard the word. To me it had been punk or hardcore. Lifetime. Evergreen. Embrace. Rites of Spring. Sunny Day Real Estate - Diary. Picked up this copy at Generation Records. I liked it better when social outcasts ruined goth culture. For Aileen.
I had never seen them before. And I was just as excited for one of the opening bands.
Sunny Day Real Estate.
I bought my first Velocity Girl album from Jessica. At the Newtown Record Exchange. There were a lot of songs I didn't like. I was mostly into the songs that sounded like My Bloody Valentine. At least to me.
Thrasher introduced me to them. Sounds. What stuck out. And sticks out. The column stated they were named after a Primal Scream song. This was a selling point then. I'm not sure why. My Primal Scream listening was limited to Screamadelica. I didn't get really into them until college. In fact. Loaded annoyed me.
But there I was. Buying an album. Because of Primal Scream. Ultimately seeing a show. Because of Primal Scream.
Sunny Day Real Estate were great. So were Velocity Girl.
I fell in love with Sarah Shannon. In my high school mind I thought this was entirely plausible. I really only fell in love with her silver pants. Velocity Girl - Gilded Stars and Zealous Hearts. Purchased on eBay. Long after their demise. My listening had initially stopped with Simpatico! This isn't bad. But. I would have been OK if I stayed with Simpatico! For Marcus.
Looking at the box set wall at AKA. Motorhead. Nuggets. Pet Sounds.
They caught my eye. Not a box set. Remastered compact discs.
More Krautrock.
I was interested. Building on Kraftwerk. And to a greater extent. Can.
It seemed darker. I had no reason to believe this. Beyond the name. I had never heard them.
This was a couple of year ago. One of those bands that I wanted to buy. But never got around to it.
For Christmas 2007 those were the compact discs I asked for. The should have discs. But didn't discs.
Finally. Soft Machine. The Easybeats. Sparks. And Faust.
All long overdue.
I have a new list. In my head. Neu. Hawkwind. Gong. Magma. Another time. Another Christmas. Faust - Faust / So Far. Christmas 2007. From Andrew. For Matt. For Mike D.
People are often aghast that I worked at Abercrombie and Fitch for some time during the 1990s.
It really wasn't that strange.
I was hired because of hardcore. Through hardcore. There were plenty of "regs" or "norms." But a good bit of us were involved in hardcore. Skateboarding. Punk rock generalists. I've heard that term before.
Denise, Ryan, Heather, Ryan, Colin.
It was a good job. Cheap clothes. Little to no work required. Little to no interaction with the general public. Hot girls. Hot "reg" girls.
This is where I learned Prema had turned to art rock. Ryan had never been Krishna. And the Foo Fighters and Cardigans were both pretty awesome.
Prema - Drivel. I am pretty sure this is out of print. If not. My apologies. More people should be hyped on this record. In 1996 it was way ahead of anything else going on in hardcore. For Marcus.
I knew they were ex-Chain of Strength. I knew they wore suits. So I was told. That was everything.
I hadn't heard them. Until Kevin put them on a mix tape.
Inside Out. Burn. Statue.
The Statue songs are as incredible now. As they were then. Every listen takes me back.
I've argued it is the greatest Revelation release. That argument changes. Disengage. Bringin' It Down. Ignaurus. Save It.
Not Save It.
I bought the shirt.
Somewhere on South Street. I can picture the store. I can't place it. Three shirts. Statue. Shelter. Snapcase.
Since sold the shirt. The print was cracking. It was an extra large. I wish I still had it. All of them. Statue - Filter the Infection. On tape. Vinyl. Now compact disc. For Uriah.
It flew under my radar. I'm not sure what I was doing when it came out.
Between Fuzzy Logic and Rings Around the World I only bought one single. The International Language of Screaming. From Radiator. Which I still don't own.
I went back. Buying up what I could. Guerrilla. Never heard of it.
The cover stands out in my mind. I'm working from memory. It was sold in a magazine purge. eBay.
I loved that they were from Wales. That they were Welsh. Defended Welsh. I had been to Wales. I am Welsh. I don't speak Welsh. Or know much about it. But I liked this aspect.
The article prompted me to purchase God! Show Me Magic. The single. I am almost certain I ordered it from overseas.
I've been sitting here. Trying to figure out where I would buy my imports. Prior to using eBay or Amazon.
I finally put it together. I found something online at some point. Where I could order from the United Kingdom. The catalog would come to my email. I would pick through the releases. Send cash? Money order? Pre-Paypal.
I would make my orders. First. God! Show Me Magic. After the first few listens. I went ahead and ordered the full length.
I didn't move over to Amazon.co.uk/Amazon.com or eBay until 2000.
I take for granted how easy it is to buy imports. It used to take a good bit of leg work. You would rely on Tower Records. Or independent record shops. And you were often at the mercy of their stock.
It's almost too easy to get into foreign bands these days. The MP3 era has taken some of the fun out of it. You haven't lived until you've spend forty dollars on a pop album from Japan.
Obviously. I'm contributing to the loss of fun. Making it easier. But not everyone sees the joy in looking for an album. Or single. For months. Sometimes years. Super Furry Animals - Fuzzy Logic. This isn't the import. The original purchase was loaned to Eric along with an Everything But the Girl album. Never to be seen again. No hard feelings. That's college. For Mike D.
The most important part of my trip. That my parents take me to Tower Records London.
They fulfilled my request.
To this day. I couldn't tell you why I needed to go there.
South Street. The Boulevard. Either would have been sufficient.
But no. London. London was important.
We get there. It was at night. There was a line around the block.
"A line to get into Tower Records?"
That seemed strange. I had waited in my share of lines for equally ridiculous reasons. And like this time. With my mother. Hard Rock Cafe. Planet Hollywood. F.A.O. Schwartz.
We made our way to the back of the line. Where we established. That the line was not to get into the store. The line was for a Living Colour signing.
I really liked Living Colour. However. I was there to shop. I saw them through the window. As we made our way inside. That was good enough.
I remember going through the compact discs. I remember the rows. I brought home a good bit of music from this first trip abroad. From this stop. Fugazi and The Clash.
Across the Atlantic. At a record store. Available in the U.S. To purchase two albums. Available in the U.S. For far less money.
They canceled.
