The Record Store Years: 2) How I Got There
A memoir of 25 years (1975-2000) spent working in the world of records & music in Seattle, with side trips into writings on Led Zeppelin and other adventures from my musical life.
When I came to Seattle from the east coast in the summer of 1974, the concept of used records was new to me. I’d spent my teenage years in the rural/suburban Hudson Valley of New York, and was used to buying my records new at the local Caldor department store ($4.44 sale price for new releases!), or on the occasions I could get in to New York City from a long-forgotten store on the lower west side that priced LPs at $3.99 each or (wow!) three for $10.00. There were also the cool shops in Greenwich Village like Bleecker Bob’s, and the more mainstream Sam Goody and The Record Hunter in midtown, plus Korvettes at 34th Street, a department store similar to Caldor with a large music department. With the possible exception of Bleecker Bob’s, none of these places carried used LPs, so I was always on the lookout for sales on the new albums I craved.
Above: A Korvette’s ad from 1970 – ‘the world’s largest record department!’. Pretty sure I bought my copy of the first McCartney album there, possibly even at this particular sale.
Right before I departed the east coast a little thrift shop-type of place opened on Main Street in my little town. A friend mentioned to me that they were carrying records, and the first time I went in I was thrilled to find a bin full of used and promo LPs priced at $1.50 or $2.00 each. The selection wasn’t great, but I found some gems and of course the $4 or $5 I would scrape up to buy a record as often as I could would go twice as far here as it would at any of my usual haunts.
At this juncture I should probably explain that by the time I arrived in Seattle at age 17, I was completely obsessed with records, rock ‘n’ roll, and music in general. I was born in 1956, coincidentally (?) the year that Elvis Presley exploded onto the world, and I grew up in New York City with music-loving parents who exposed me to Broadway shows, classical, and folk music.
My earliest musical loves were the original cast albums of Gypsy, Man of LaMancha and Mame from my parents record collection, and I was taken to see some of those shows in their original incarnations as a young child, as well as live performances by Odetta, Susan Reed and others. Even though the specific details of these experiences are foggy in my memory, they had a big effect on me, and my earliest memories – and indeed the majority of my childhood memories – are all connected with music in some way.
But it wasn’t until February 1964 that this connection blossomed into full-on obsession. I can’t remember the very first moment I heard The Beatles on the radio, but it galvanized me in the same way it did millions of other kids, and immediately became pretty much the most important thing in my life.
My very first album was Introducing The Beatles on VeeJay Records, received in 1964 as a gift from my “Uncle” Bob (actually a close family friend a bit hipper than my folks). I recall being confused by the way the Beatles looked on the cover. The iconic Meet The Beatles cover image was all over the place by then and the Introducing cover pictured a more conventional-looking, shorter-haired foursome photographed over a year prior in 1962.
But no matter – the record was amazing – and I remember very clearly the first moment my dad put it on the turntable for me and the “. . . one-two-three-BAH!” of “I Saw Her Standing There” came out of the speakers. I was immediately and completely smitten – from that day on (and to some degree to this very day), nothing in the world mattered more to me than The Fab Four, and in fairly short order, everything else under the rock ‘n’ roll sun.
One of the defining moments of my life - and most indelible memories of my childhood - was seeing The Beatles at the famous Shea Stadium concert on August 15, 1965. I was eight years old and lucky enough to have an older, teen-aged cousin who agreed to take me with her to the concert. Wise beyond my years, I remember being frustrated that the screaming was so loud, you could barely hear the music.
Above: My original ticket stub from the Shea concert
Jump ahead to the summer of 1974, and I’m arriving in Seattle with a backpack, guitar and about $20 in my pocket after a leisurely cross-country road trip. For reasons too complicated to go into here, fresh out of high school I found myself more or less stranded in this beautiful Northwest city of mountains & water, so I rented a cheap room in the University District and happily settled in to a life without parents, school or town bullies. And with a bounty of cheap used records available in a handful of stores just blocks from my house!
NEXT: Seattle: The Ave Back in The Day
Man, do I want to hear more about that cross country exodus outta New York to Seattle!
Amazing ticket stub! Look at the price!!