Publications > Scream City > Scream City Issue #1 > The Smell of Vintage Vinyl by Andrew James

The Smell Of Vintage Vinyl
by Andrew James
If you're reading this magazine, you probably like music. And if you like music, you probably collect records. And if you collect records, you probably know the thrill of record collecting. The smell of vintage vinyl. The rank odour of the bored and sneering salesperson. The dextrous quick-shuffle of racked CD cases. The leap of the heart as you think you glimpse a mint copy of a long-deleted classic. The crushing disappointment as you realise it's actually something by Ace of Base.
The hardened record collector knows them all. The second greatest thrill in the record collector's world is finding a longed- for piece of cherished plastic, something you've read about but never actually glimpsed before. And the greatest thrill? Well, of course, that's finding said item, then discovering that it's been priced at only £3.00. As the people who camp out at Harrods every December 26th know, nothing beats the thrill of getting a bargain.
In many ways, the internet has been a boon for vinyl and CD junkies. Rather than being restricted to damp basements in Notting Hill, Manchester or Glasgow, the intrepid collector can rifle the virtual racks of record stores in, say, Canton, Ohio, and have his or her purchases delivered by FedEx overnight.
However, there are 2 sides to every coin. While the number of sellers available to the average collector has increased exponentially, so has the number of buyers looking for each item. This means that you now tend to have to pay silly prices for even the least rare offerings. Online sellers can seemingly pick a number out of the air when it comes to pricing their wares, knowing damn well that some schmo somewhere in the world will eventually meet their price.
So, while your chances of finding a copy of God Save The Queen on A&M 7-inch in EX condition have vastly increased with the advent of the internet, your chance of snagging it from a clueless seller for £2.50 is about as likely as attending a wild party with Stanley Kubrick and J.D. Salinger. The knock-on effect has been a rise in the prices of second-hand records and CDs at bricks and mortar establishments, as store owners take advantage of the crazy prices punters seem willing to pay. "Vinyl copy of Thriller in VG condition? Sure, mate. Seventeen quid."
So, now that virtually any record from the past 50 years is available at the click of a button, and given that you're guaranteed to have to pay over the odds for whatever you're looking for, is there any record collecting pleasure to be had for the aural fetishist and unabashed cheapskate? Well, yes. Even though the odds of finding something you've been looking for for years, and then getting it for next to nothing, have been reduced to virtually zero, there is still gold to be found among the dross.
You just have to lower your sights a little... Literally. Forget about the bulging racks of the second-hand shops of your youth. Start to look a little further down. Beneath the racks. In the cardboard boxes on the floor. In the plastic bins by the door. In the "Three for a Fiver" section. Say hello to Sue Ryder, The Salvation Army, and Shelter. Known to hip hop aficionados as "digging in the crates", kneeling down and searching through dusty boxes is the only remaining way to snag a bargain.
It's also a cost-effective, risk-free way of taking a punt on some band that once sounded interesting in an NME sidebar. So what have you got to lose? Apart from your dignity, of course, when your trendy mates see you in Scope instead of Sister Ray. But you'll have the last laugh when you find a mint copy of Vashti Bunyan's debut for a quid.
All of which is by way of introduction to a list of my top 5 bargains. Not necessarily the cheapest things I've ever picked up (the top slot in that list would be a Blur cassingle of "Girls and Boys", with a fabulous Pet Shop Boys remix, for a mere one penny), but the ones that have given me most bang for my buck. Or pound. Happy hunting! And don't forget to wear old trousers. Those charity shop floors can be terribly dirty.
Every US second hand shop had racks of this CD in its bargain bin, and they probably still do. It must have stiffed badly, despite Island's marketing budgets. Schnabel, deposed king of the New York art scene, celebrated director and scourge of Robert Hughes, is not known for his subtlety or humility. So his one and only stab at chart stardom must be a sprawling, bombastic mess, right?
Well, no, actually.
Surprisingly, and despite the presence of stellar talent like Anton Fier, Bill Laswell, Henry Threadgill and Bernard Fowler, this is mostly introspective, reflective and plaintive. Whoulda thunk it? Schnabel can't sing for toffee, but that only adds to the poignant quality of the songs, as he reflects on lost love, memories, divorce and, er, bullfighters. All this, and Gary Oldman on backing vocals too. Come on, what more do you want for two bucks?
Given the alumni involved, the sound is pretty much as you might expect, a mix of dubby blues and off-centre noise, but Nylon's voice holds the whole thing together. She even manages a cover version of Jailhouse Rock. I never expected to find a copy of this, but somehow, some 15 years after its release, it fell into my hands courtesy of a cut-out bin. As a side note, Nylon famously gave Brian Eno the idea for ambient music when she paid him a bedside visit and put on some harp music. Google "Eno Nylon ambient" if you don't believe me.
When Rick Rubin and Henry Rollins' short-lived Infinite Zero label re-released the oeuvre of Suicide front-man Vega in the mid- 90s, they skipped over this 1985 major-label effort. Why? Well, Rollins and Rubin probably wanted to sell the image of Vega, the iconoclast, the urban outlaw, CBGBs, Max's Kansas City, blah, blah, blah. Whereas on this, his most commercial effort to date and his attempt to woo the MTV audience, Vega veers dangerously close to Billy Idol territory. The soaring guitars. The metronomic synths. The patented Alan Vega croon. In a parallel universe many of these songs could have been a fantastic soundtrack to a lost episode of Miami Vice. Don't let this put you off. I get the impression that most Suicide fans cringe at this release, but I think it's fantastic and 50 cents well spent. Though Elektra must've pressed up tens of thousands of copies, I've never seen it before or since.
ROIR was a cassette-only label that put out mostly dub reggae and post-punk items by Suicide, Bad Brains and the Fleshtones. They're actually still thriving, but have since diversified into CDs. Judy Nylon was one half of punk duo Snatch, but this is her sole offering in her own right. Produced by dub wizard and On-U Sound head honcho Adrian Sherwood, it notably features a number of cult musicians. Drummer Chris Joyce was one of the original members of the Durutti Column, and later found success with Simply Red; John Waddington was the guitarist for The Pop Group; the late Sean Oliver went on to join Neneh Cherry's Rip Rig and Panic, and Nick Plytas went on to infamy as... er... the band leader on Jonathan Ross's early Channel 4 show.
Simon Frith recently named Pulp's This Is Hardcore, the post-Britpop hangover that's more bleak than anything Joy Division ever put out, as one of his top 5 most underrated albums. While I concur, I think this follow-up rates even higher. Naturally, it sold even fewer copies than its predecessor, which is how I came to find my copy in the bargain bins. Jarvis had long since abandoned his usual subject matter of canal towpaths and municipal car parks, and on this album looked towards more universal themes, like nature and trees. Sounds sappy, but I bet it'll date better than Different Class.
Producer Scott Walker, formerly residing in the "Where Are They Now?" files, roped in The Swingle Singers to add kitsch value to tracks like 'Weeds' and 'Sunrise'. Pulp ran its course and split soon afterwards. Island took another financial bath, and bargain hunters at Fopp made out like bandits.
The Salvation Army store on Mare St. in Hackney is a treasure trove where local hipsters unload their unwanted promos. Someone in the neighbourhood must've had an in with Artful Records, as on one memorable occasion I scored three Fall CDs and Rebellion by The Durutti Column (all on Artful) for a princely four notes.
Another time, I was pawing through the detritus when I came across this effort from 2000 by the former shoegazers Moose, who mutated over the years, via an acquaintance with the Cocteau Twins and Lush, into a much more interesting proposition. I'd been looking for this ever since my first and only contact with Moose, a song called "The Only Man In Town". High Ball Me Baby contains the aforementioned gem plus eight other slices of Nashville via Tottenham. It's hard to believe that a CD featuring twangy Lee Hazelwood guitar, a harpsichord, strings and bongos—on the same track, no less—could actually work. But somehow it does. And I can't recommend it enough. Imagine Phil Spector producing Harry Nilsson for an El records release, and you still wouldn't be close.
This CD contains more wit, imagination and ambition in its first five minutes than most manage over sixty. And I snagged it for 50p. Actually it should have been a quid, but the old lady at the counter undercharged me. And, to my shame, I didn't say a word.
Useful addresses
Reckless Records 3157 N. Broadway Chicago
Illinois
USA
Tel: +1 (773) 404-5080
Goodwill
6055 N, 91st Street Milwaukee
Wisconsin
USA
Tel: +1 (414) 353-7900
Dr Wax [CLOSED]
5225 South Harper Ave / 1121 W Berwyn Ave
Chicago
Illinois
USA
Tel: +1 (773) 784-3333
Fopp (Covent Garden)
1 Earlham St
London WC2H 9LL
Tel: +44 (0)20 7379 0883
Salvation Army Charity Shop Hackney
70, Mare St
Cambridge Heath
London E8 4RT
Harrods
87-135 Brompton Road London
SW1X 7XL
Tel: +44 (0)20 7730 1234
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Issue 1 index
Julian Schnabel
Julian Schnabel Every Silver Lining Has A Cloud (Island CD) $1.99 [Dr. Wax cut-out bins, Chicago]


Moose
Moose High Ball Me Baby (Nickel and Dime CD) 50 pence [Salvation Army store, Hackney]


Pulp
Pulp 'We Love Life' (Island CD) £2.99 [Fopp, London]


Pal Judy, Judy Nylon
Pal Judy, Judy Nylon (ROIR cassette 1982) Cost: 50 cents [found in a cardboard box under the cheap CDs at Reckless Records, Chicago]


Alan Vega  Just A Million Dreams Elektra cassette
Alan Vega Just a Million Dreams (Elektra cassette) Cost: 50 cents [found in a Goodwill Store, Milwaukee, USA]