Dynagroove
by Bob Ham
illustration by Timothy Walker
Wow, what a few months can do. Since you last heard from your faithful vinyl junkie, I have found myself moved to Portland, Oregon. A rather exciting move for a smalltown boy like me. Besides the fact that I get to be far away from all the trappings of a little burg (any of you who have lived in out-of-the-way towns know just what I mean), it also means that there are better chances for music-whores like me to get better pieces of wax than a Reader’s Digest collection of hit songs recorded by some totally white-bread choir and orchestra. Not that I’ve anything against those types of record buys (and let me tell you, their version of “Stayin’ Alive” is really something to behold), but deep in my heart when I was buying things like that, I knew I’d much rather be scoring a copy of Felt‘s Train Above the City or X‘s Wild Gift for a pretty cheap price. And I have. So, if anyone ever needs to find me, they usually start at any of the used record stores within walking distance of my house.
What moving to a bigger city also means is a bigger population, and that means a lot more people with stuff to sell in their front lawns and garages. An exciting prospect for the summer months we’re just now slipping out of. All over this fine city, little handwritten signs keep popping up every weekend leading me into a frenzy because, honestly, little garage sales are some of the best places to find records. For the plain fact that these people don’t want this stuff anymore and are willing to sell it to you for a very low price (and if you work some magic and charm, you just might be able to get it even cheaper, if not for free). The added benefit is that you never know what you’re going to find and could really come across some amazing stuff. Case in point (and my tale for this issue), a sunny Saturday I spent out with my housemate, Craig, on a search for records. He and I had not gone far at all when we came across a little lawn sale just off a busy thoroughfare in Southeast Portland. Besides finding a great double live Harry Belafonte record, I also happened upon a couple of original Beatles records, both for the low low price of two dollars each. Anybody in the know is not going to pass up the soundtrack to A Hard Day’s Night in mint condition and dammit, I knew I wasn’t. I mean, let’s not mince words here, the band was fucking phenomenal. Sure, the stuff on this album was your basic straight ahead ’60’s rock ‘n’ roll with rather simplistic lyrics, but you hear the title track ring into your ears and you just go nuts inside. The added fun of this record (for me anyway) are the many instrumental/orchestral versions of some of the songs on the soundtrack. The whole record just makes me giggle.
The fun did not end there for us as we also hit a great thrift store that Craig had told me about. This place was what you would expect any big resale joint to be: rather stark and uninviting. That stuff shouldn’t matter though. You just need to dive right in with both feet and start digging. Craig led me downstairs to a small corner of the room packed with records. This was where I had to revert back to my days of buying cheap records that really aren’t, let’s say, quality buys for most (i.e.: lounge, language instruction records, etc.). All you really found at this place was a hell of a lot of classical stuff and the occasional run-in with a band from the ’70s you forgot even existed at any point in time. This didn’t really bother me as I only had two dollars and could really afford to be selective faced with a collection like that. So, after an hour of casting about, I parted ways with my money and walked out with the best two records I could find: Bela Bartok‘s Rhapsody for the Piano and Orchestra and Barbra Streisand‘s Guilty. The Bartok record, as brilliant as it is, is really not the one I wanted to talk about because I’m not any authority on classical music and know so very little about music theory that I wouldn’t be able to do it justice. Barbra, on the other hand, is a piece of cake.
You’ve undoubtedly seen the album at some point in your life with Ms. Streisand in a loving embrace with one of the producers of the record, Barry Gibb. If you’re ever in a record shop though, please do give the inside a glimpse too because you will be treated with more pictures of that dastardly duo decked out in skin tight white and acting out some impromptu fit of giggles whilst “recording.” And while you’re there, why not throw the thing on and have a couple of memories come floating back into your head since you’ve probably heard a few of these songs before as well. Hell, they ain’t even that bad for what Barbra was going for (in my opinion, a hit record that would connect with the laidback groovesters of the late ’70s/early ’80s). If you haven’t heard the songs before (or don’t remember that you have), they were all written by Barry or co-written with one of the other two Bee Gees. You’re basically faced with hook-laden light rock schmaltz with Barbra’s oh-so distinctive voice taking the somewhat silly lyrics to the best possible place she could find for them. So, if you’re a fan of the brothers Gibb or Barbra, you can’t go wrong with this one. If not, you might want to get it for the kitsch value or just to hang the record sleeve on the wall of your bachelor/bachelorette pad to impress your friends. Rounding out our adventure was a trip to a Goodwill store that was way the hell out in the middle of nowhere, but somehow still part of Portland. We had wanted to go there after a co-worker of Craig’s had told him about all the great albums he had seen there but didn’t get since he already owned them. Trusting this co-worker’s musical tastes, we wanted to get there with all due haste. Unfortunately, as it goes, a lot of it was obviously snatched up before we even considered going there. Heed my hindsight-bolstered advice, kiddies, if you ever hear about some place with a ton of cool vinyl for grabs, unless you’re interfering with your personal/family/work life in some dangerous way, get your ass there fast. If you’re any sort of record collector, you don’t want to miss out on a good find just because you ain’t in the mood.
Another piece of advice that I realized when I was there is that you really never know what you’ll find until you get out there and look. I personally walked out of there with records by B.A.L.L. and Negativland while Craig found a great old Yo La Tengo disc amongst others. On the other side of things, I was excited to find a copy of Hallelujah All the Way Home by one of my favorite bands,The Verlaines. If you don’t know about these guys, by golly, you should. A great pop band that plays pretty fast tunes á la The Wedding Present or Unrest, but adds to them some almost poetic lyrics, strange time signatures, and odd musical accouterments like French horns and tubas. This record lived up to all of those expectations and more by mining yet another great song out of “The Cave of Tunes About Broken Hearts.” The band’s leader, Graeme Downes, can make you laugh, cringe, and cry in the span of a song quicker than any songwriter this side of Mark Eitzel. I also happened upon the first record by The Art Of Noise, a fairly well-known group that has done duets with Tom Jones and Max Headroom. The album, besides providing some early tastes of the current electronic movement, is just a fun listen. The songs are very early electronica type stuff that are interesting and goofy all at that same time. You should really try it out if you’re a fan of the electro music scene because you might actually like it. Or just find fun samples to steal.
