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Rob Innes's avatar

In 1991 or 1992, we (Second Time Around) got a call from our friends up the street at Cellophane (they were on the Ave at this point), warning that Nirvana's Chris Novoselic was on the prowl, looking for record stores selling bootlegs of his band's music, which we were. It was known that he'd done the same at Orpheum on Broadway, confiscating what he found there. We quickly moved them behind the counter just before he came in the door. *whew*

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Michael K. Fell's avatar

Less about the live bootleg and more about the bootleg labels, which proliferated in the 80s. As a 17-year-old kid in 1986, I was obsessed with uncovering and discovering obscure psychedelic gems from the 60s. I scoured magazines like DISCoveries and Goldmine; I eventually went to record conventions (as I posted in your previous article), and I ultimately discovered labels like Eva out of France and Psycho out of England that were reissuing lesser-known psych records, often via needle drop (using a clean LP as their master source). These were the days before streaming, and these labels allowed one to hear an impossibly difficult to find album by The 13th Floor Elevators and The Chocolate Watchband or some other obscurity.

Eventually, I learned about NYC's Midnight Records and got a hold of their catalog. I went through the catalog, saved money to buy the records, and then waited for WEEKS for them to arrive (notoriously slow mail service from Midnight; I am sure when online purchasing became more popular, they lost out due to how slow they were). When the records finally did arrive, it was like Christmas day! Many of their 60s psych titles were also bootleg labels, and the small bands were on labels even lesser known than Bomp!

My first time in NYC, 1989, I went to Midnight's brick-and-mortar in Chelsea; it was like walking into a rock and roll church. Everything in their catalog was there, but I could now look at the cover art and decide what I wanted to buy. Despite having hair down to my elbows, when I took the LPs to the counter, the hipper-than-hip punk rock and leather-clad rocker staff knew I wasn't from NYC, and I felt a sense of snobbery, but fuck it; life is too short. Just let me pay and take my weird records home to enjoy. Midnight didn't last too much longer. The 90s eventually swallowed them up.

I have wonderful memories of discovering rare gems via needle drop bootlegs and meeting many other psych collectors worldwide while trading tapes (and eventually CD-Rs).  

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