My Memories Of Record Store Day 2022

 (Another essay I wrote for a University assignment around 2022, this time around my first time attending Record Store Day that year. I thought it was quite funny so worth sharing here. I have, however, edited out direct references to my home town for privacy reasons. Otherwise, it is presented as is.)

Record Store Day. The current golden goose of the vinyl industry. For one day a year (or occasionally two), the LP heads come out in droves to collect whichever album takes their fancy. The record labels capitulate, of course, and capitalise on the occasion with a selection of limited-edition album pressings, often pressed onto coloured vinyl or of a record that not been available on vinyl for a long time, or at all. As one would expect, this just intensifies the fervour to get to the nearest record store as early as possible to make sure you don’t have to go home empty handed.

Indeed, ever since the inception of the musical holiday in 2007, the demand has only gotten higher, and in turn the desperation to not be left in the dust has gotten more intense. You must be there first in line, or you risk having to settle for other than what you wanted. Some have criticised this approach as boiling down the love of vinyl to a consumerist fault, valuing the acquisition of the best products for sometimes substantial amounts of cash (especially second hand, with scalpers being another factor to the rush to get the record you want on the day). Others still have expressed frustration with what was originally a day to celebrate and empower independent record labels getting overrun with major players like Universal or BMG, pushing the smaller players out of the running.

At the end of the day though, I see it as a fun novelty that, although hectic, is certainly memorable to take part in. Since I have recently come into my own as a vinyl collector, especially in the last couple of years, I especially was interested in taking part when it next came my way. Plus, 2022 would be the first Record Store Day since the pandemic had begun to not be held remotely, so it was something of a return to form.

What one might consider a warmup round to this was in 2021 when I attended an event that HMV was doing for its 100th birthday, which included new pressings of some classic records. Sadly though, despite arriving at around 6am and getting to the local store a little while later, I was still too late and all the copies of the record I was after (a repressing of The Stone Roses’ debut, for the record) had been reserved. As luck would have it, I was able to grab a copy when the online listings went up, but I knew a different approach was necessary to not get left in the dust the next time around.

For this event, I ended up choosing to go to the local music shop I was frequenting often in recent months and got most of my vinyl purchases from. In fact, I was taken off guard when I walked in that April and saw a sign advertising Record Store Day for the very next day. I had known it was coming up, but somehow it had crept up on me something fierce.

Right away, once I got home, I began to scheme my approach. I looked through the online list of records that would be available on the day, and after some mulling I eventually decided on a reprint of Rick Astley’s seminal 1987 record Whenever You Need Somebody, pressed on Red Vinyl. I figured that considering the decent infamy surrounding the album (both due to its popularity upon release and the infamous RickRoll trend in the late 2000s), that it would be a particularly desirable item that would sell out quickly. An estimated 1,800 copies being available only deepened this perception. If I wanted this record, I would have to get there especially early.

Some other records caught my eye, such as a repress of some of Lou Reed’s earliest solo demos, and an album of Blur remixes, but I ultimately passed on those so as not to strain my wallet so much. I found out later that Taylor Swift had released an extremely limited new single for the occasion, which ended up being possibly the most desired record out of that year’s line-up. As to be expected, it would go on to sell out quickly, and just less than a week after the fact, second hand copies have already inflated in value to over seventy pounds.

I did not end up sleeping that night, largely because I did not want to risk sleeping through my early alarm and getting there too late. Instead, I bided my time until I decided it was late enough that I could head out (around 5am) and I ordered a taxi from my student accommodation to nearby the music shop. From there, I could play the waiting game.

I arrived at the shop at around 5:36am, early to be up but apparently not early enough. I knew I would not be the first there but had only been anticipating around a small handful of hardcore vinyl collectors outside the shop. Instead, a decent line had already formed, and I had to sprint the rest of the way when I was dropped off to make sure someone didn’t walk up and leave me further back in the line.

A bit of a newcomer mistake, it would seem, but it turned out that I had not picked a bad position to arrive at. Not at the front, but still close enough that I could expect to receive my record of choice without too many problems. 

Since this was my first Record Store Day, I had no idea how many people would show up, and I was surprised as time went on and the line that formed behind me became much longer than the line I had joined. Clearly it was a more popular occasion than I had anticipated. Perhaps the pandemic had people pining for an event such as this.

It wasn’t until later that I got a proper idea of how many people had actually lined up outside the record shop that morning, but I knew it had to be a lot as the line had snaked around a corner and out of sight. A few days afterwards I asked someone working there if they had any idea how many people had attended, and they told me that an estimated 80 people had shown up to the opening event that morning, but the amount of people buying Record Store Day products in person in the following hours and days numbered somewhere around 540. Evidently it was an especially busy Record Store Day this year, and in hindsight I ended up being lucky at being so early in line.

The 3 hours I waited outside were killing time until the shop opened, along with occasionally checking the store’s Twitter page to make sure the vinyl I was after didn’t sell out. At around 7am, some people at a café next door started taking breakfast orders for people in the queue, and I got some crumpets while I waited. Not long later, some employees came out and started handing out lists of their inventory for people to fill out with the records they wanted. These sheets were noted and revealed that I was 17th in line that morning. Definitely preferable to 80th.

To cut a long story short, I filled in my sheet as required and at 8am people started to be let into the shop to collect their records (though it was staggered in such a way that it took another 45 minutes until I got inside). Sadly, I wasn’t quite early enough to get a bonus tote bag with my order that was given away to some early customers, but I wasn’t really upset about that, for as long as I got my Rick Astley LP, I would be happy.

Sure enough, after getting inside and having a look around the normal stock the store had on offer, I was let down into the basement, where the exclusive records were being kept. I didn’t have to wait long down there, for soon my order had come up, and the LP I was hoping for was still available. And so, for 24.99 I walked back out an incredibly happy customer. The decent audio quality of the pressing once I got a chance to put it on my turntable only served to make me even happier.

In conclusion, it was a hectic but fruitful morning that I am thoroughly glad to have participated in. Not just for my own benefit, but also for the feeling of community that it bought about. Vinyl collectors from all walks of life coming together to celebrate their passion. In my mind that makes it all worth it, to allow for what was once a fledgling community to grow and reach its former popularity.

The vinyl is rather good too, of course.

How To Review Music: My Opinions On Music Journalism

 (A short essay I wrote around 2022 for a University assignment on what it means to be a music journalist. I read it through recently and think it's of acceptable quality and relavent enough to this blog to post.)

Album reviews have for many years been the bread and butter of music journalism. Although you will just as often see opinion pieces and retrospective articles being written about numerous bands both active and defunct, along with an interview if you’re lucky, it’s most likely that when the average person hears “music journalist”, the picture that comes to mind is listening to a new album and releasing their opinion in print to the general public.

Of course, there is a lot more to it than that, and it takes more than simply spilling your thoughts on a record onto paper, even if you are a respected critic.

In terms of an album review, in order to produce as fair and objective a review as possible, a reviewer would need to approach it from an unbiased mindset. Even if that reviewer personally preferred a certain genre of music and did not usually listen to whichever genre the album is a part of, they would need to put this preference aside and judge the record on its own merits, and not compared to what they might consider to be “better”.

As well as this, context about the record and its background is important as well. A record may not be well produced or performed technically, but in some cases this can either be intentional on the part of the artist or end up adding to the charm of the record. Knowing the circumstances that led up to the creation of the record (such as the sound of previous records and any personal events the musicians went through) can put certain aspects that may at first be questionable into perspective.

Subtext is important as well, especially with any hidden meanings the artist may have imparted in the sound or lyrics. A record can be an incredibly polished piece with impressive performances, but it can end up not holding up if there is nothing behind those performances. Of course, lyrics do not always need to have an important allegorical meaning, but it can help.

And finally, and perhaps most importantly, a reviewer must make clear that their word is not law, and what they write is ultimately their opinion. While this may feel like a cop out to an outside observer, it is actually quite vital that a reviewer not put their opinion up on a pedestal too much because, in the end, reviewers aren’t always right. 

There are many instances historically of critics giving mixed or even negative reviews to albums that would become classics today (As an example, Lester Bangs savaged the MC5’s Kick Out The Jams when it was released in 1969, which grew to be considered a pivotal proto-punk record). Of course, context is important and can change with hindsight, but even in the moment a critic can end up going against the generally accepted curve and end up upsetting people who disagree with their opinion. Thus, it’s important to make clear that it’s all ultimately their takeaway from the record, and the audience is free to draw their own conclusions.

University Music Reviews 2020-23

Note: The following reviews were written as exercises during my time studying Music Journalism at University, getting my degree. I do have a feeling that I might have missed some, as my archive of exercises I did for the course is pretty cluttered, but these are the ones that I have been able to find, dug up and provided for posterity.

Crazy Backwards Alphabet - Self Titled

It’s pretty clear that everything that Matt Groening was involved in other than his TV Shows like The Simpsons has been horribly overshadowed, to the point where a lot of people don’t even know he’s done anything else. Which is a shame because his comic strip Life In Hell, which was a cult icon in 1980s California, is pretty damn underrated. And being fairly well known in the area meant he was able to get some fairly well known friends, such as future Simpsons coworkers Harry Shearer and James L. Brooks, as well as the influential innovative musician and composer Frank Zappa, who Groening was a massive fan of, and was in fact the next door neighbor of in the final years of Zappa’s life. And it seems as though this influence, combined with a friendship with experimental guitarist Henry Kaiser, is what led to the production of the 1987 album Crazy Backwards Alphabet.

It should be noted that although he’s credited with conceptualizing the album and contributing the artwork (featuring the same sort of style he’d been previously showcasing with Life In Hell), Groening does not actually play on the record. Instead the band responsible of it is a supergroup of several artists, including Dixie Dreggs bassist Andy West, Swedish avant-garde drummer Michael Maksymenko, and former Magic Band drummer John French. And it’s perhaps French’s Captain Beefheart roots that is the biggest musical and technical influence on this record. Groening himself had been heavily influenced by Beefheart’s 1969 record Trout Mask Replica; according to him he initially hated how chaotic and experimental it was, initially believing it to be the result of poor performances, at least until “About the third time, I realised they were doing it on purpose; they meant it to sound exactly this way.”

And Beefheart’s rather infamous sound and way with music is all over this record. The performances and compositions on display on Crazy Backwards Alphabet are often off kilter and more than once downright discordant, with the drum, rhythm and guitar tracks often clashing and having little relevance to each other, but not quite enough to be unlistenable or grating. Which era of Captain Beefheart’s career depends on the track, since the format often fluctuates. At points it sounds similar in execution to Trout Mask Replica, whilst other tracks like “The Blood & The Ink” are perhaps closer in sound to Van Vliet’s more grounded and traditionally bluesy records such as The Spotlight Kid.

Overall, Crazy Backwards Alphabet is a good place to go for people either researching into the scene that The Simpsons first came out of, or people who have just gone through Captain Beefheart’s work and are looking for something equally experimental and yet enjoyable.

A Tribe Called Quest - The Low End Theory

There is no doubt to be had that A Tribe Called Quest is one of the most influential/quintessential Hip-Hop groups of the late 80s and early 90s. Right up there with groups like Public Enemy, De La Soul, and solo rappers like LL Cool J, they bought about major innovations in what Hip Hop could sound like, often blurring the lines with sampling and the use of proper original instrumentation. Although the argument of which is their finest record is up for hot debate (Midnight Marauders is often mentioned) their 1991 sophomore release The Low End Theory is what I consider to be their finest hour.

The album was a direct departure from the sound laid out on their debut album, People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm. Where the debut had perhaps more complex instrumental structures and segments, The Low End Theory was much more minimalist and straightforward, also stepping up the group’s Jazz influences to include a proper specially recorded double bass played by Jazz musician Ron Carter. The general direction that the band has taken on their debut, itself a move away from the dangerous image that Hip-Hop had begun to cultivate for itself, was continued here, with a lot of the lyrics featuring in-jokes, humour, and just a dash of social commentary.

Not only that, but the interactions between the different members is heightened tenfold on The Low End Theory, making it a largely unified work. Rapper Phife Dawg, who’d only sporadically appeared on People’s Instinctive Travels and the Paths of Rhythm due to preferring to hang out with his friends, sought to be much more involved with the group’s recorded projects after it was discovered he was Diabetic. As such, he steps up his game much more, with him and fellow Rapper/producer Q-Tip often exchanging verses in response to each other during numbers, most notably on the single “Check The Rhime”. Speaking of, those numbers are some of the most well produced and feature some of the best flows the group would ever do, with the seamless performances on “Buggin’ Out” and the finale “Scenario”, which featured a cameo from fellow Hip-Hop group Leaders Of The New School, who were a member of the same collective as Tribe, Native Tongues. These tracks show the band at their finest, witty, harmonious, and fully willing to take some risks in order to make some good music.

Satya Sai Maitreya Kali – Apache / Inca

The story of Craig Smith is probably one of the most tragic stories of the 1960s music scene. Having initially been popular on the Andy Williams Show, and exhibiting talent and charisma as part of the late 60s psych rock unit Penny Arkade, a mixture of a lack of success, massive drug abuse, hallucinations, and being beaten, robbed and left in a mental asylum in Afghanistan whilst on the hippie trail, left him with acute messianic delusions, and he began to call himself Maitreya Kali. He believed he was to be the ruler of Earth, and that he was a reincarnation of numerous leaders and religious icons. These delusions only intensified over time, grew violent on multiple occasions, and got him institutionalized for a period of years in the 70s. He spent the remainder of his life homeless after being released for good in the 80s, eventually dying on the streets in 2012. Truly an awful fate for someone who was originally a talented and funny musician.

But, on his sole album Apache/Inca (originally 2 albums that were eventually combined into a single double experience), for a moment one may not be able to realize just how deluded he was. The music on this album, recorded over the course of around 5 years, self-released in 1972, and distributed by hand on the streets of Los Angeles, is not the discordance you might expect for someone in a damaged state of mind, but rather the careful, beautiful acoustic sounds of someone who perhaps knew he was losing his grip on reality, and couldn’t control it.

The best material on the album is from the 68 sessions with the Penny Arkade band. These songs are fully formed and backed with proper accompanying instruments by the other band members, which helps to illustrate just how talented a songwriter Smith was at his prime. The solo folk-ish numbers that dominate the album are also interesting listens, as the melodies are addictive and well crafted, and Smith/Kali’s vocals are genuine and still capable off carrying a tune. Tracks like “San Pan Boat” and “Old Man” are especially beautiful.

On a few numbers, like the considerably more ramshackle “Revelation”, and with some of the between-track dialogue, one can hear his delusions beginning to bleed through, perhaps suggesting that he wasn’t able to keep himself together to make music for much longer, especially when one takes the album artwork into account. But even so, if this were Smith/Kali’s ultimate statement to the world, it’s both sane and insane enough to captivate the average listener.

Marianne Faithfull – Broken English

If there’s one thing that seems to particularly capture the imaginations of the public when it comes to music, it is the comeback record. A singular musical statement that can transform an artist from one the consumers and critics had written off, to finally being able to prove just what they’re capable of and making sure everyone knows it. And as such, the more tragic the fall from grace that precedes it, the more triumphant the eventual comeback statement shall be. Such is the case with Marianne Faithfull’s 1979 album Broken English.

To say the leadup to this record was rough for Marianne would probably be an understatement. Following her already tumultuous relationship with Mick Jagger falling apart, and her fledgling musical career following suit by the turn of the 60s, she was soon in freefall. The following years were marred by a lack of musical output, extended periods of homelessness and living on the streets of Soho, losing custody of her child, and at one point an attempt at suicide. With such a severe fall from grace, those who remembered her time singing songs such as “As Tears Go By” would be forgiven for being concerned that a return to form might not be on the cards for her.

However, that soon changed upon the arrival of Punk Rock in 1977, and Marianne soon came into contact with many talented figures in the scene, which inspired her to take her music in a similar direction. The resulting demos quickly caught the attention of Island Records, who agreed to finance recording sessions with her and her backing band. And from these sessions arose what would become Broken English.

Despite Marianne explaining Punk Rock’s influence on the record, Broken English has much more in common with the quickly developing New Wave style that was gaining traction by that point, on account with the prominent use of early synthesisers on several tracks. By some accounts these synth lines had been overdubbed on without Marianne’s direct input, but it ends up creating a cold and yet powerful atmosphere that compliments the mood in Marianne’s lyrics and the delivery of her singing.

Speaking of Marianne’s singing, her voice is also much changed from her initial fame in the 60s. Many years of laryngitis and drug abuse had left her voice a lower and raspier tone. Perhaps not as suited for folk and pop anymore, but for the energy of this record, it works perfectly, feeling like she has come out of her previous tailspin scarred but still together.

And then there’s the songs themselves. The record features a mixture of cover & original songs, and all of then Marianne pulls off tremendously. The cover tracks in particular showcase a lot of the scope that Marianne was still able to show with her work, with tracks including Shel Silverstein’s The Ballad of Lucy Jordan and John Lennon’s Working Class Hero. The latter in particular suits her especially well since, despite her more middle-class background and upbringing, her situation in the leadup to this record, including issues with depression and homelessness, and being rather unpopular in the public eye due to her romance with Mick Jagger, she had been through the wars, and so could be considered just as valid to discuss the idea of the plight of the working class as anyone else.

But it’s the original tracks on the record, both provided by Marianne herself and a selection of collaborators, that allow her to truly show what she is capable of after her substantial hiatus. The title track, for instance, features lyrics about personal loss and loneliness, as well as references to the then ongoing cold war. The conclusion can be drawn to connections between these lyrics and Marianne’s past experiences, perhaps with an overall feeling of helplessness in regards to the conflict in the world. The Side A closer “Guilt” has similar parallels, with lyrics about infidelity and feelings of unwarranted regret that seem almost autobiographical.

The album closer “Why’d Ya Do It” is the most explicit in its brutal lyrical delivery about infidelity, and it is outright graphic in the details, contrasting hard with the comparably clean lyrics on the rest of the record. It even got the record banned in some parts of the world. If there were a song on the record with an attitude one could equate to being “punk”, this would be the best candidate by far.

Broken English is undoubtably a stark record, allowing Faithfull to prove that she still had the ability to shock people with her music. It’s also something of an outlier in her discography, as her following 80s output was perhaps less scathing in delivery. Certainly, she would retain control over her artistic direction from then on out, but she would never release another album quite like Broken English.