Paula C
Depending on your perspective, it was a bemusing, wretchedly pathetic or euphoric scene. In the interest of maintaining a shred of personal dignity, I will choose the last.
Two short mornings ago, three of us convened in the parking lot of the Princetonian Diner off Route 1, not that far north of Trenton, New Jersey. Those of you who have been following the MOGMeet Chronicles know that before the official gathering, Cody brought a Toyota-full of CDs down to New Jersey to sell to the fabled Princeton Record Exchange. But before that venerable establishment was open, we met in said parking lot (the third was dermahrk, who is altogether more moderate in his habits than I). Cody threw down two columns of packing boxes filled with CDs, slapped his son's sled down between them to create a makeshift table, and we were off to the races.
I tore through the boxes as if it were Supermarket Sweep. From time to time I'd bark at Cody, "Which of these Tony Allens do I need to have?" or "Is this one any good?" And from time to time, Cody would spot something I was about to discard and say, "This is great. You want it." To which I would respond, "Sold," and put it on top of the pile. A dizzying 20 minutes later, I had purchased close to 40 CDs from his collection for what was clearly a bargain price (particularly after he offered the bulk discount). I didn't even get through all the boxes. If I had, I wouldn't have a marriage now.
Whew. I've never had such a crackhead music-buying moment in my life. All of you, being obsessives, will understand when I say that for almost a half-hour, the adrenaline coursed through me so powerfully that I almost couldn't remember my name. Maybe this explains the not-quite-there aspect I present to the camera in the mercifully small sample of photos that have been posted to commemorate the MOGMeet.
The CDs are now in the trunk of my car. My plan is to select several per week as accompaniments to my commute. By Thanksgiving, I figure I will have more or less taken my measure of them. But already I have developed a deep, deep adolescent crush on one of the songs from the Great Buy. Among the CDs Cody told me I needed was a Ruben Blades anthology from the beginning of his career in the mid-Seventies, "Bohemio y Poeta." Cody was right once again, damn him. The song "Paula C" is especially ravishing, with Blades's maigisterial and passionate vocal, a gorgeous melody, a lush arrangement that calls to mind the lush Gamble-Huff sound (that string section like a lugubrious Greek chorus), an almost Springsteenian sweep, plus a kickass samba break. What, I ask you, fellow MOGgers, is not epic about this cut? It raises my adrenaline in ways that have nothing - well, maybe a little - to do with memories of that diner parking lot....
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Comments (18)
It's like emo/soul/salsa..and I mean that in a good way. And just think, back in the early 90's Garth Brooks would've thought us criminals for dealing in used CD's. Although our Jersey Diner parking lot transaction, probably went down in a spot where an actual crime might have taken place.
I know what you feel.I had a similar expierance this summer. A folk dance freind of mine wanted to unload his 150 vinyl collection and dropped it off. It was either me or goodwill and at no cost. I am still going through them mostly folk songs and dance music from the early 70's of Ireland, UK,Hungary and Romania. As I was looking at them after he left I could feel the adrenalin pumping....I'm starting to feel like junkie.Sounds like you had a good time ...nice song,heard of him not listened before ...thanks
BM (before marriage), I would spend hours going through entire record stores new and used and trading gobs of albums or CDs. It was my favorite thing to do. Like you guys have said, it was like a junkie fix.
I had to tone it down AM (after marriage) so my wife didn't get too jealous of the record store mistress I was spending most of my time with.
Your whole experience brings back that craving, but now you can barley find a physical record store around here anymore, let alone one where you can trade or sell used CDs.
We basically have Walmart and Best Buy (slim selections) and maybe an occasional Sam Goodies in a mall. They and digital killed the little guys. So, these days, I'm all digital.
OK jealous now. I got a measly 5 CDs from the Cody Haul, congrats on your embarrassment of riches.
This is one I was thinking about posting the other week, but never quite got round to. Not enough Rubén Blades on here for sure.
Cody, an excellent description of this cut. I had forgotten what a great pure voice he was/is, but the arrangement is what really floored me here. And as for NJ, given its proximity to Princeton, I think we may have found the only diner parking lot in the state where no one has ever been knifed....
CP3, sounds like you need to throw a Dances of the World theme party. I'd come.
MRX, agreed. It was totally easier pre-parenthood. That was one of the reasons that, when it was all over, I said to Cody and dermahrk, "I feel a little....unclean...."
Mully, I would have gladly given up some of this booty in exchange for your presence...OK, not really.
Baudolino, 100% agreed.
Ok, I've seen Iam's photos and want to state publicly that Ivylander (Bill) is a handsome man, not a goblin. Just wanted to clear that up.
"Handsome" may be a stretch, but I'll take "not a goblin."
Quite epic for a morning starter.
Cracked open another of my recent purchases last night -- the Moroccan stuff. Boyfriend looked suitably perplexed for the first few tracks. Had been using the hookah* earlier in the evening. Coincidence?
(* Shisha, folks, nothing else. Childhood epilepsy prevents me from doing anything riskier.)
Perfect way to wake up this morning.
Reminds me of strong black coffee and hot/humid mornings in the middle of summer.
It reminds me of some time I spent in Florida, drinking Sangria at an outdoor cafe and listening to all the intersecting music coming out of the bars and restaurants lining the street.
Your adrenaline rush moment is familiar in that "all of us junkies recognize another junkie" kind of way. I remember an ex of mine used to be the world music buyer at Tower Records, and when he was moving once he was wanting to get rid of three boxes full of promotional music he'd been sent from various record labels. I remember when he told my friend and I we could "sort through it and take anything we wanted" before he dropped it off at a local library my heart started to race - the mystery of the unknown treasures one might find inside - simply intoxicating!
This sounds even better in those headphones mully..holy shite!
After I got into the music distro biz, I had many junkie moments..At one national account they had a vendor room where all the music sellers would wait to see their buyers. Every couple of weeks I'd be pawing through boxes of New Releases that sales reps would bring for their buyers.
Then there was label visiting..each label would usually keep a box of CD's on hand for every record in their catalog...just in case a copy was requested by a music journo or other such
freeloaderperson. Being let loose in closets like that fullfilled a lifelong dream.Finally, I established a relationship with a cat who worked for EMI/Blue Note. I found out that he really loved Native American Pow Wow music. I happened to distribute the preminent pow wow music label, so we struck a deal. I'd send him a box of the latest pow wow records (there are more than you might think) and he'd send me a box of Rudy Van Gelder Blue Note Remasters. Just seeng this cats name on a box addressed to me, would give me shivers.
40 cd's ... whoa. Cody gets the EMCD title for the week. Go Cody!
Does that album title translate as "Bohemian and Poet"? What a title!! I want that on my business card. Especially as I am neither, though dream of both. This post and its comments is just hysterical. Pow wow music?!?!? Of course, all of it seems absolutely normal. I'm reminded of the moment many years ago when I met the gofer working for a friend of mine - 19 years old and an insane deadhead. It just so happened that a couple of days earlier I had unearthed my reel to reel collection of live bootlegs from the late 60s and very early 70s. All I said was to come around to my place after work as I had something to give him. The look of adrenaline excitement on his face as he read the titles and it sunk in is ingrained in my mind to this day. It's fun to be an EMCD!
Late to this post, late to the party, absent from Princeton, but undying in my devotion to Rubén. Back in the '80s, circa Escenas, I had the biggest crush. "Silencios" just undid me. Still does. This cut is all you say it is.
Re: the collecting, I think one reason my marriage works is that either of us can bring in any number of recordings (and books, for that matter) and neither of us will fuss about it. And thank goodness for that.
Sorry I missed the fun.
nicki, isn't it wonderful that this is one of the few places in the universe where you can talk about "cracking open the Moroccan stuff" and people assume you're talking about music?
lyriquediscorde, it's funny, because this music feels so New York to me, but I can definitely see why it conjures what it does for you...
Cody, did you sell of any of those Blue Notes? 'Cause I sure didn't see them, and would have noticed....
Jonh, setting aside the fact that Deadheads tend to be all too easily pleased, you clearly made a large deposit to your karma bank. Someday, someone will slip you a couple of Prince tickets for that one....
deedee, you were missed - though, if you saw our pictures, you probably didn't miss us much. Ruben is one of the few men outside our household who can make Mrs. Ivylander's knees buckle. And I understand completely.
Dale, my apologies for skipping past you. Yes, Cody's true nature has been revealed - or would have been if we didn't know it already.....
ivylander, your text and the comments are a very good read, perhaps literature. And "Bohemio y Poeta"? From the title, they're man and woman, right? Both the melody and chord changes are unpredictable but beautifully and strictly structured. Solid, industrial strength, and free. What’s not to like about the band? And Blades’ voice? The grace with which the spotlight moves between the two helps transfix us.
If you find other tracks this good from your Princeton outing, they require posting.
Workin' on it, Spike....