Van Halen waiting to meet their fans inside Sound Warehouse in Dallas, Texas 1978.
 
During their first world tour supporting their monumental first album Van Halen, David Lee Roth, Eddie Van Halen, his brother Alex and Michael Anthony did a “See and Meet” event at Sound Warehouse in Dallas, Texas. Fans of VH lined up for hours before the 2:30 PM start-time and the band was already cracking into cans of Schlitz Malt Liquor, because they are Van Halen and they needed to be in peak form for their first of two shows at the Dallas Convention Center opening for Black Sabbath later that evening.

Van Halen had been making the record store rounds during the final leg of their 174-date tour including one at the Dallas location of legendary chain Peaches Records & Tapes. These kinds of events were really common back in the 70s and 80s, and if you grew up during either decade (or previous ones for that matter), you probably went through the ritual of waiting in line for hours, clutching something sacred to be signed by your chosen rock idol(s).
 

A shot of Van Halen’s in-store visit to Peaches Records & Tapes in Dallas in November 1978.
 
The photos you are about to see were taken 40-years ago, almost to the day, and what a day it was if you were lucky enough to have been there. While you’re scrolling, take notice of the Van Halen albums on the wall—all of which were signed by the band while they were throwing back Schlitz Malt Liquor, smoking cigarettes, waiting to meet their fans. Also, while conducting my critical “research” on vintage ‘78 VH, I came across a comment left by a dude calling himself “Dave Jr.” noting that the “blonde” smiling in a photo (pictured below) as DLR signs an album for her friend, was his mother. “Dave Jr.” went on to say he arrived in the world nine months after the photo was taken, making him wonder if Diamond Dave might be his dad. Though the words spoken on the VH classic “Unchained” by record producer Ted Templeman come to mind (“Come on, Dave, Gimme a break!”), knowing DLR’s debaucherous track record, it’s not unfathomable to think Roth may have sired a mini-me along the way he doesn’t know about. Where the fuck is Maury Povich when you need him?
 

 

Here’s the photo “Dave Jr.” was referring to of his mother and his “Dad” David Lee Roth. I’m assuming she is the one smiling because only she knows the answer to Dave Jr.‘s question.
 
More mayhem, after the jump…

Blue Arrow Records, photo via Facebook

I know of very few vinyl obsessives who’ve never availed themselves of the global online music database at discogs.com. A crowdsourced and fact-checked project of 17 years standing so far, its every entry is a deep trove of information, including every known global release of any given official release, bootleg, promo, off-label release or vanity press. In all the years I’ve used it, I can think of maybe twice that a release about which I sought information was unknown to the database. All of this, it merits mentioning, is free of charge and free of advertising. There’s even a marketplace, putting users and shops who’re selling items together with frustrated crate-diggers who haven’t been able to find them the old-fashioned way. That feature has repeatedly posed a mortal threat to my checking account.

In the last few years, they’ve expanded their model, creating similar sites that seek to comprehensively catalog books, films, pieces of musical equipment, comics, and even posters—all with their own potentially wallet-decimating marketplaces. But their most exciting project, to my mind, is VinylHub, their endeavor to create an interactive map of every brick-and-mortar record store on Earth, a perfect resource for the world-traveling vinyl obsessive. I was in Bangkok last spring, and had I only known how close I was to the selection of international indie rock at 8 Musique and the DJ hub Quay Records, I probably could have come home with armloads of amazing finds. (Next time…) If you’re going to be in Ulaanbaatar, Azerbaijan, or Nairobi, and you’re just JONESING for a crate-dig, you’re covered.
 

Quay Records
 

8 Musique (Photos from the shops’ respective FB pages)

But as I have no major travel plans in the works for now, what’s been most fascinating to me has been looking for the outliers, and a recent post on Discogs’ blog has some interesting breakdowns for data geeks. The single city with the largest density of shops is Tokyo—had you asked me to guess I’d have probably said London. The most remote record store on Earth is a cluster of CD stalls above a produce market in the tiny Pacific island Kingdom of Tonga, but Vinyl Run, located on the tiny Indian Ocean island of Réunion, sure looks like a contender. The northernmost is in Alta, Norway; the southernmost is in Invercargill, New Zealand. But there remain huge uncharted swaths of the globe, and this is a crowdsourced project, so if you’re a Discogs member (which, again, is free) and you know of an unlisted shop, you’re free to contribute and make VinylHub as complete as possible. I mean, there have to be record stores in Vladivostok, no? Yet VinylHub lists none.

More after the jump…

 
“Stickball” is an improbably strange—and very NSFW—adult novelty record from the early ‘70s, apparently the work of singer Tony Bruno working under the pseudonym “P.Vert.” I found my copy at Downstairs Records in New York (which was actually upstairs) at some point in the mid-80s and I still have it. It’s a 45rpm single backed with another song—a pretty-sounding ballad—called “Fuck Me Forever” by Connie Lingus.

Wouldn’t you buy that? Well I did.

About a week later I was in the same store with my old friend Nate Cimmino and he scored a copy of “Stickball,” too. Nate worked part-time behind the counter of the legendary New York record store Bleecker Bob’s, which was owned by the notorious Bob Plotnik, a man who was not afraid to tell you exactly what he thought of you, let’s just say. A cantankerous fellow. Some might—charitably—describe him as an “obnoxious asshole.” (Like the real life “Soup Nazi,” he was even parodied on Seinfeld.)

One day I went into the shop to say hi to Nate and Bleecker Bob was there. He said “Metzger, you’re so fuckin’ smug, you think you know everything, but YOU DON’T KNOW SHIT. I am the mogul of moguls. Name me any record title and I will tell you the artist. Name me any artist and I will tell you at least one of their song titles.”

Nate and I looked at each other, each knowing what the other was thinking.

“Stickball,” I replied confidently. It was the single most obscure thing I could think of, sure to stop him dead in his tracks.

Bleecker Bob laughed his loudmouthed Brooklyn wiseguy laugh.

“YOU FUCKIN’ ASSHOLE!! I PRODUCED FUCKIN’ P.VERT! YOU TRIED TO STUMP ME BY NAMING MY OWN FUCKIN’ RECORD! HAHAHAHAHAHA….”

He spun around and pulled a copy right off the shelf. The producer’s credit he pointed to on the label read “D.Ment.”

What were the odds?

He gloated, but I thought that it was extremely funny and so did Nate. I mean seriously, what were the odds of that occurring? And to be bested by an asshole like Bleecker Bob in such a manner of my own choosing, ultimately? Well, try having that experience in a New York record store these days, kids! Priceless!
 

 
So I had posted the above text on Dangerous Minds back in 2010. We’ve changed content management systems since then, but not long after I originally posted it, Tony Bruno himself left a comment saying that he’d never even heard of Bob Plotnik and that he didn’t produce that single or to his knowledge have anything whatsoever to do with it, which to my mind makes the story even better.

“Stickball” by P.Vert

 
“Fuck Me Forever” by Connie Lingus:

 
The smug, judging record clerk is a sad cliche, but the stereotype exists for a reason. Not all of them start out that way. Sometimes it’s a process of grinding down that takes place over several years. I’ve been working in and around record stores since 1991. Anyone working retail knows dealing with morons and nutjobs comes with the territory, but music retail people will tell you they deal with a completely different breed. There’s something special about a record store that attracts a fringe class one might never encounter any other place, save the emergency room or the DMV. Ask anyone who has worked in music retail, especially the old-timers, and they’ll tell you. We all have a story to tell.

In 2002 I stashed a notebook behind the counter of the shop where I work, something I wish I had had the foresight to think of years earlier. Anytime we got a dopey phone call, boneheaded comment, or generally batshit customer experience we’d log it into the book with the date and time of occurrence. We’ve got a few volumes filled at this point. Earlier today I flipped through some back pages and noted favorite entries. I have omitted the date stamps for the sake of brevity, but these entries span from February 2002 to November 2014. There’s so much more where this came from, but ideally this begins a dialogue with other battle-scarred shop grunts. We want to hear your stories. If you have favorite quotes or tales, especially ones that top these, post them to the comments and share with others who’ve lived the struggle.

Enjoy these hand-selected quotes from the music retail front

 
 
Customer: “Why are there only 12 songs on this CD?”
Clerk: “Uh, that’s just how many songs are on it.”
Customer: “So, there’s six songs per side?”

*

Customer: “I’m looking for an old song called ‘The Monster Mash’. I think it’s by Kris Kristofferson.”

*

(phone call)
Customer: “Are you the manager?”
Clerk: “Yes.”
Customer: “OK. There’s a Beatles album… it’s really rare… it’s worth a whole lot of money… Do you know which one it is?”
Clerk: “No.”
Customer: “OK. How much would it be worth?”

*

Customer: “Do you have a Christmas album by Aryan Neville?”

*
 
Customer: “Do you have any Van Morrison? I didn’t see any under ‘V’.”
Clerk: (politely) “Well, it would actually be under ‘M’.”
Customer: “NEVERMIND!” (customer storms out)

*

(phone call)
Customer: “Is this the record place?”
Clerk: “Yes.”
Customer: “Could you tell me how to get a record deal? I do rap.”

*
 
Customer: “I’m looking for a Country singer. The last name is ‘Redding’. I think the first name is ‘Otis’”

*

(phone call)
Customer: “Do you have any… uh… Gospel… uh… I mean… uh… tape… on… video… uh… I mean… (screams) DO YOU HAVE ANY HALLE BERRY MOVIES?”

*

(phone call)
Customer: “Do you have constellation music?”
Clerk: “Constellation music?”
Customer: “You know… A variety.”

*

(phone call)
Customer: “There’s this lady that just put out a song. I don’t know what it is.”
(statement ends here with customer expecting an answer)

*

(phone call)
Customer: “I have some… I don’t know what they are… uh… (moment of silence) Do y’all buy 26 inch records?”

*

Customer: “Do you guys have any Kenny G posters?”
Clerk: “No, I’m sorry we don’t.”
Customer: “Well, if I get two then I’ll give you guys one.”

*

Customer: “I know that the Beatles Red, White, and Blue albums are the best, but are there any other good copulations by the Beatles?”
 

 
Customer: “Do y’all have ‘Old Mount Zion’?”
Clerk: “Um, who is it by?”
Customer: “The New Years song everybody sings!”
Clerk: “Auld Lang Syne?”
Customer: “I dunno, maybe.”

*
 
Customer: “Are all your CD’s made?”
Clerk: “...?”

* 

Customer: “I’m looking for ‘Theme From a Summer Place’.”
Clerk: “Do you know by who? About 100 different artists have done that song.”
Customer: “There’s no ARTIST! It’s an INSTRUMENTAL!”

*

A guy comes in and wants to order a TV-only-offer CD. He brings in the 1-800 number from the commercial and asks if we can call it in for him.

*

Two sorority girls come into the shop.
Sorority girl #1: “Do you guys have any Beatles DVD’s?... no… wait… I guess they didn’t have video cameras back then.”

*
 
A young white woman’s inquiry about Reggae:
“Y’all got that Reggae guy? ...He’s black.”

*

Customer: “Y’all got any Ronald McDonald?—You know that guy who used to be with the ‘Doobie Boys’”

More after the jump…