Thank You for the Music
I decided to pay a visit to my friendly local independent record store the other day on my lunch, remembering that it was time for the annual sale. Outside, there was a sign up saying that the shop was closing. Forever.
I had a lump in my throat for the rest of the day.
Don't get me wrong - I cherish good memories, but in general, I'm not exactly a nostalgic person. But THIS STORE. CLOSING. It's one of those places that you just assume will always be there, like the gas station or your hair salon.
I hung out at this store in high school with skater kids on the weekends. I bought Kate Bush b-sides and issues of Creem Magazine. And Volume Magazine - that UK music magazine from the early 90's. Talking to the guy who worked there about Japan and That Dog and old episodes of Dragnet. Without meaning to, I'd usually end up spending all the money I made at my crappy college job.
And cassette tapes. Oh my GOD, the cassette tapes.
That Petrol Emotion.
The The.
Saint Etienne.
Tricky.
the Sugarcubes.
Killing time between classes in my freshman year of college, shuffling through the CD's with my matte sky-blue painted fingernails for whatever techno album had just been released. Before the internet, that store was my lifeline to any kind of good music, because you for damned sure weren't going to find it at the mall at Camelot.
I shopped there for 16 years.
Thanks for the memories, for the music, for the free CD's and posters, for selling our high school underground 'zine when no one else would, for the Kate Bush t-shirt, for that time in the store when at least 10 total strangers bonded while singing along to "Funky President" by James Brown in 1995, for the Andre the Giant Has a Posse stickers, for the killer discounts, for making us realize that THEY were the weird ones - not us, and for the sum total hours of entertainment playing with the magic 8-ball and Dr. Evil action figure while my friends were still shopping.
I'll miss you.
I had a lump in my throat for the rest of the day.
Don't get me wrong - I cherish good memories, but in general, I'm not exactly a nostalgic person. But THIS STORE. CLOSING. It's one of those places that you just assume will always be there, like the gas station or your hair salon.
I hung out at this store in high school with skater kids on the weekends. I bought Kate Bush b-sides and issues of Creem Magazine. And Volume Magazine - that UK music magazine from the early 90's. Talking to the guy who worked there about Japan and That Dog and old episodes of Dragnet. Without meaning to, I'd usually end up spending all the money I made at my crappy college job.
And cassette tapes. Oh my GOD, the cassette tapes.
That Petrol Emotion.
The The.
Saint Etienne.
Tricky.
the Sugarcubes.
Killing time between classes in my freshman year of college, shuffling through the CD's with my matte sky-blue painted fingernails for whatever techno album had just been released. Before the internet, that store was my lifeline to any kind of good music, because you for damned sure weren't going to find it at the mall at Camelot.
I shopped there for 16 years.
Thanks for the memories, for the music, for the free CD's and posters, for selling our high school underground 'zine when no one else would, for the Kate Bush t-shirt, for that time in the store when at least 10 total strangers bonded while singing along to "Funky President" by James Brown in 1995, for the Andre the Giant Has a Posse stickers, for the killer discounts, for making us realize that THEY were the weird ones - not us, and for the sum total hours of entertainment playing with the magic 8-ball and Dr. Evil action figure while my friends were still shopping.
I'll miss you.
posted by Absinthe at 11:36 PM
1 Comments:
I think I know where you're taking about. I picked up a few Mike Ness records there not too long ago. It's a shame the place is gone.
11:17 PM
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