Tastemakers 5: D-I-V-O-R-C-E
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One spring morning in 1973, when I was nine years old, I woke up and my mom was gone. This was one of those, she went out for a loaf of bread and never came back deals, but I didn't know that then. What I did know, was that it wasn't entirely out of the question for my parents to be apart. I think my dad played on that fact, and it pacified me at the time.During my first years my family moved a lot and sometimes one parent would go ahead of the other to start a job or find a place to live. I really don't remember what I felt that morning, and what I do know is still gradually coming to light. It is definitely something for further research. Most of my hard and fast memories begin in the fall of '73 when I moved back to New Haven,CT (my birthplace) from Denver, to live with my mom.When you're a kid you don't always know enough to know what's really going on and divorce seemed extremely normal in 1973. I'd say half of my friends in 4rth grade were living with their recently divorced single moms. I did have concerns about my parents split and my first impulse was to devise a parent trap to get them back together. After that became an obviously futile task, I started to ask what the plan would be…when would I get to see my dad? My parents opted for the school year w/mom, summer w/dad model. I liked the travel (I got to go on a bunch of plane rides by myself, all grownup like) and most of my friends were going away to camp, so I ended up really enjoying this arrangement.The first 3 summers of my new nomadic existence were spent in Denver (chillin' in Cheeseman park), and in year 4, I got to spend the summer with my grandparents, who lived on the water near Long Island Sound. "This divorce thing wasn't so bad", I told the school counselor I sat with (yeah, I had a few behavioral problems), "I'm adjusted. Just because I like to start fake riots and act like I've been wounded by pouring red food coloring all over my shirt, doesn't mean I have a problem. Can I go back to class, now?"I thought I was headed for a bummer in year 5 though, because my dad was moving to Minneapolis,MN. I had fallen into the New Haven-Denver rhythm, and after spending the past 4 years (despite the breakup) in the most stable environment of my life (In my first 8 years I lived in 6 different states), I wasn't looking forward to anything new. I was a teenager sick of the new. I'd had enough goddamn changes (Yeah, I was a little angry).Toward the middle of my inaugural summer in the Land O' Lakes I met a friend and we stayed in touch through the school year, so I calmed down a bit. By the time my second summer in the Twin Cities rolled around things were looking up. I was only 15 that year, but I entered into the workforce, scoring a kush job with my buddy Dan at the local Dairy Queen. No, I did not get sick of soft serve ice cream. The DQ also introduced me to my next Minnesota friend; A cat named Taras, who would end up being a huge tastemaker in my life. It wouldn't happen for a couple of years, but there were hints that first summer.At the time the only records I had were 45's, but one day I mentioned to him a song I'd heard played on a news story about British "punk rock". Just to let you know how messed up US TV was, the song was Ghost Town by The Specials. Not surprisingly, my buddy Taras, knew where to get "different" records, and he picked up the Ghost Town 12" for me. I thanked him and said goodbye..another summer was over.In subsequent summers I lost track of Taras (he was getting deeper into the Minneapolis music scene, living at Bad Manor, cutting his first Ground Zero LP,produced by Bob Mould, and playing shows at Goofy's Upper deck), entered high school, and began to fall in love with Hip Hop. Despite the brewing storm, I was still not addicted to vinyl,and I remained that way through my teen years.College is partly to blame for my music junkiedom. I arrived with my prized Planet Rock 12", The Clash, T La Rock, The Specials and not much else. By the time I was kicked out in '84 (yeah, I still had behavioral issues on top of a wee bit of a drinking problem), I had amassed 3 solid crates of Hip Hop classics. Sugar Hill, Profile, Def Jam, Fever, Enjoy, and Profile were the labels I trusted, and I had begun to get my rock education as well. The "new alternatives" like REM and B-52's were a nuisance to me at this point , though, because I was all about hip hop, most all of the time. I did retain a small space in my heart for Joy Division, The Clash, and The Ramones.So there I was, kicked out of college, working as a repo man in Minneapolis, and still returning to campus to do my radio show. I spent most of my ill gotten repo gains on records. I was learning that being a hip hop DJ wasn't just about collecting every 12 that came down the pike, but mastering the breaks and beats from all over the store. So I started to stockpile Reggae, Jazz, Soul,and Rock, alongside the New School jams like BDP and Eric B and Rakim, that started to arrive in 85-86.One day in the record store-where else- I saw my old buddy Taras. He told me about his forays into the music biz and said we should get together, talk about old times, share a Dilly Bar™ or something like that. When I was in college I saw folks with a lot of records, but I never saw anybody (my age) who had what Taras had. Seeing the walls and floors covered with vinyl was the last straw, I would leave his house the junkie I am today.It was just so thrilling to sit in a room full of music, with a head full of (something other than Dilly Bars™..yeah, I used a lot of drugs back then), and listen to it all..or at least try to. Like any music obsessive, Taras wanted to share his latest obsession (sound familiar). I just happened to pop by the week the Meat Puppets released Up On the Sun. I liked it that cold Minnesota day and it still hits the spot this fridgid Brooklyn morning 20+ years later. Taras and I would soon become roommates and he would introduce me to Frank Zappa, SST Records, Quill, Richard Thompson and a whole lot more. He catalyzed and brought to the surface the obsessive streak I'm still on. I don't know whether to thank him or have him put up on charges, but in the end I love him for what he did.I know the internet is a wonderful place to discover new music and people (present company included), but the experiences I had with my tastemaker, Taras, just seem to resonate a little more than you typical LOL-era music interaction. I guess you can never replicate the moments that make music your life…but I'm still tryin'.
Locating MOG account...
Comments (31)
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