Went to a local thrift store today. Picked up a bunch of records for not very much cash-money. Albums of note included The Cars’ self-titled debut, Chicago’s once-self-titled-but-not-anymore album “Chicago Transit Authority”, Queen’s album “Jazz”, Blue Öyster Cult’s “Spectres”, The Moody Blues’ compilation “This Is The Moody Blues”, Blondie’s “Parallel Lines”, Fleetwood Mac’s “Rumours”, and Jackson Browne’s album “Running On Empty.”
So, it’s a lot of music that my dad would have listened to. And stuff that he did, in fact, listen to. Hell, it’s the reason I picked up Running On Empty – my dad was a huge fan of Jackson Browne. When I was about 11-12, my aunt’s common law husband got my dad tickets to a Jackson Browne concert, and it was certainly an experience that should be remembered.
Unfortunately, I can’t.
Oddly enough, I managed to pick out albums that were all released around the same time. I’m guessing that whoever owned these records before had them organized by date, or he just piled all of his recent purchases into a storage bin to get around to when he had the time, which was probably not happening any time soon.
As awesome as it is to get the stuff I did, it was originally going to be a much, much larger stack. I ended up with around 15 records. I had about 20 or so. I put a few back for various reasons, two of which will be explained:
– Found a copy of The Cars’ “Candy-O”. For those that don’t know, Candy-O is an excellent album that just so happens to have an amazing painting of a pinup model on the cover. Great stuff, right? Well, yeah. It is. But clearly this pinup’s transparent outfit offended the previous owner, and he made sure that no person may ever gaze upon the sort-of-topless woman by tastefully censoring the naughty parts of the cover with duct tape. More importantly, the record looked like it had been used as highly-ineffective sandpaper.
– Found a copy of Television’s album “Marquee Moon”. Holy shit, right? I would have been a hell of a lot more excited if the record was actually in the sleeve. Looked everywhere. Nothing. Damn.
I don’t have a ton of records. Hell, I don’t even have a decent record player yet (The one I planned to use plays ‘em too slow). But this is a fun thing to collect.
I’m sure my dad is looking down at me right now. He’s probably yelling something along the lines of “You know that I threw those albums on the side of the curb when you were 2, right?”