I was calling around looking for tickets to see George Clinton tomorrow at the State Theater.
I called the Disk Exchange on Central Avenue, and they didn't have any. But it was a cool flashback experience: That voice, the distinctive mellow monotone of the sole proprietor of The Disk Exchange named Nick hasn't changed in 15 years. Nick turned me on to Swans and Dos and Ministry and a whole ton of cool stuff back when I used to go and spend the bulk of my $320 paycheck from my full-time job at Blockbuster Video in his store every 2 weeks. Nick was "older" to us then, probably in his early 30's but he knew music, and he was really the only person in town who carried the interesting music. His store filled out my collection of Simple Minds LP's like no one else's could have, and brought me a ton of new and interesting sounds. My mind broadened almost incredibly during that time. He used to recognize me and we would occasionally talk about a recent show or a recent album, and share opinions but we weren't friends. He was Nick The Guy At The Record Exchange (the old name). But the sound of his voice on the phone was a trigger to a time when a day off meant paging through LP's (I didn't have a CD player yet), cigarettes, snack food, and clubs. I was transported into a world of the Stigmata 12" single, the "Just Say No/Mao/Yes" compilations, clove cigarettes, long nights in my dark green plaid trenchcoat and green beret spent at Channel Zero dancing, or making fun of people dancing, or just out on the town because there was nowhere to go, but we absolutely had to go there. Playing guitar in whatever public places they wouldn't kick us out of at 2 AM. Being a menace to the late night crowd at Wag's (late night diner) and drinking gallons of coffee. A flurry of constant creativity: writing and singing, dancing and music, almost all of it bad, but all of it sincere.
Damn, 1990 was a hell of a long time ago. I'm equally glad that I lived those days, and that I don't have to live there anymore. But it was nice to hear Nick's voice again. Good to know that he's there.
2 comments:
Laughing at green plaid trenchcoat and green beret... Why didn't I ever get to see that? Nostalgia trips are great fun!
Shame you missed me at SPJC (even Gary only caught the tail end of it). I was pretty goofy (not that I've changed much). I dressed like I was in U2. I'll see if I can scare up another picture from back-inna-day.
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