Standing in line is not my thing. Sometimes doing the things I want to do require overcoming my own introverted nature. But at least I couldn’t have asked for nicer weather! It was a mild spring day; not too hot, not too cool. So, standing in a line that stretched out across the edge of a fairly busy parking lot wasn’t as miserable as it could’ve been. That’s when a pickup truck pulled up slowly next to the line. The window rolled down and I noticed that it was a girl I work with.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Waiting for the record store to open”
“What???” she said incredulously.
“It’s Record Store Day. They release limited edition records, hard to find stuff, all over the country in local record shops on the same day. If you don’t get here early, you might not get the albums you’re looking for.”
She stared at me with either confusion or contempt in her eyes for just a second while cars started to line up behind her – probably wondering why she was blocking the lane. She finally blurted out, “You’re such a nerd,” and shook her head. Her window slowly rolled up as the truck rumbled out of the parking lot and onto the highway.
For the record; I wasn’t offended by the statement at all because… well… I am a nerd – and I’m okay with that. But to have it pointed out to me, in front of a moderately large crowd of people all doing the same thing I was, was a little startling.
I have always had a stack of records, both LPs and 45s, for as long as I can remember. Some were mom and dad’s, some were my wife’s parents, some were hers, some belonged to our siblings, some were saved from the local library when they were cleaning house, and yes, some were actually from my own childhood collection, I had even bought a few here and there mostly as collectibles. But until about five years ago, they all slept snugly in boxes and crates on shelves in the basement next to tubs of Halloween decorations and never-used serving trays. I can’t say for certain what it was that prompted me to buy a modern turntable and start cleaning, sorting, and compiling them into what I can conservatively call a “collection” but I’m glad I did. It has allowed me not only to recapture some of the magic of my youth, but it also lets me see my history as well as my ancestry in a physical, tangible way. Music is a language that transcends generations and cultures. It's kind of the great equalizer. So when I listen to my dad's copy of Leon Redbone's On The Track, it means more to me than just the music. It's actually a part of me.
But Record Store Day is just fun, even for a guy who doesn’t like lines and crowds. It is an opportunity to get a few cool records that you probably won’t find otherwise. It’s an opportunity to support local independent record shops. And it’s truly eye-opening to see how much money some of these collectors drop in a single shopping trip! Occasionally I can even point that out to my wife, “I might spend a lot of money on records, but I don’t spend as much as THEY do!”
It kind of reminds me of when I went to the theater in January 1997 to see the special 20th-anniversary release of Star Wars – just before the prequel series started enraging the fanbase. Seeing the movie again on the big screen was pretty freaking awesome in its own right, but what was truly memorable were all of the guys my age sharing something that they loved – something that deeply affected them as children – with their young sons and daughters. It felt like they were passing the baton to the next generation of Star Wars fans. It was a really cool and emotional experience for me.
The crowds at Record Store Day are a little different. They are an interesting cross-section. Some are guys from my generation, motivated by nostalgia, looking for records that they haven’t spun in several years or have always wanted to spin, and others are obviously too young to have been alive during the days when vinyl ruled the music world. Sure, there are the record snobs too – positive that the records they have chosen are the only ones that could possibly be worth buying; and rolling their eyes at your dumb choices. But most are just people like me, who love their music on a physical format; something you can hold, and read, and smell – something that you have to be careful with and take care of – something more “real” than a digital file and can’t be measured in bits & bytes.
So, if that makes me a nerd – like I said before – I’m okay with that. But I bet YOU don't have Matthew Sweet's Goodfriend (Another Take on Girlfriend) album on vinyl!