Record Store Day

Record Store Day 2012 was something of a bust.
     I almost skipped it entirely.  A friend invited me to meet him at the beach in Santa Monica.  Recalling long lines, sunburn, and a limited selection of Record Store Day exclusive titles at my local participating record store, Amoeba Music Hollywood (especially by the time I made it to the front of the line), I wondered if it was worth the trip, parking fees, waiting time, purchase prices, and sunburn.  (The only aforementioned snags applicable during a trip to the beach would have been parking fees and sunburn.)  Since Miles Davis's estate/Columbia Records, Bruce Springsteen and Brad (perhaps the best band you've never heard of, even if you read my blogs) were participating with exclusive releases, I had mild, tentative interest.  When my friend texted to say that the beach atmosphere today was disappointing (unexpectedly cool and hazy), the decision was suddenly much easier.  I had been wanting to hear a new Brad song on vinyl before their new album United We Stand drops Tuesday (I have not taken advantage of any of the digital downloads or streaming previews).   I drove to Hollywood.
     Not surprisingly, the Miles LP sold out long before I arrived.  The lengthy, convoluted process of waiting, placing an order, and waiting again is unnecessary to recount here.  King Crimson and T. Rex (not coincidentally, the bands that inspired this blog's title) sets are enticing but too expensive, so I selected Miles (I was unaware it had sold out), Springsteen, Brad, and a limited edition blue vinyl pressing of the rare 1977 Genesis 12" EP Spot the Pigeon (another Record Store Day exclusive).  I stood in line for a few hours, confident that, even in the event that the limited stock of household names like Springsteen, Davis, and Genesis were depleted, the new music by the tragically unknown Brad would be available.
     After, among other things, sweating in the Hollywood sun, staring at the Hollywood smog, and talking to an older man who admired my Yes t-shirt and reminisced about the 1970's (some don't know how fortunate they are), I picked up my order and found that Brad had either sold out or had never arrived.  (For some reason, the store didn't seem to obtain any of the Pearl Jam-related exclusive releases; Brad certainly falls into that category.)  (I should have anticipated that Angeleno "hipsters" would eschew Springsteen as well as Genesis and deplete Miles.  There are advantages to being a Springsteen fan outside of the northeast.  Now that I think about it, there are advantages to being outside of the northeast, period.)  I spent what seemed like an inordinate amount of money for Spot the Pigeon and "Rocky Ground" b/w "The Promise" (live).  Then I spent more on parking (despite a validation from the store) than I did on "Rocky Ground" b/w "The Promise" (live).  Then I came home and tried to play the 7" disc.  On each side of the record, the tone arm on my turntable lifted and returned to its rest position before the side had completed (this is a recurring problem when I play 7"'s on my turntable--perhaps I should have taken advantage of Amoeba's turntable sale).  (I am having recurring problems with my twenty-first century, digital, trendy iPod as well.  Does anything consistently work like it's supposed to in this Endarkenment?)
     But I helped support a dying institution or three (and I'm not talking about Genesis).

Postscript: Spot the Pigeon plays well (and sounds spectacular in this audiophile blue-vinyl pressing manufactured under license by a tiny California lab).  I also forgot to mention that I received a free bag with a Sub Pop sampler disc (and other free discs), plus shampoo and conditioner.  At least the shampoo and conditioner will be useful.  The day wasn't such a bust.