The $1 Fix No Vinyl Addict Can Resist.
Show me someone who collects vinyl records and I will show you a bargain hunter. May I present, 7 moments of bargain hunting glory.
To prove my point, I simply went to Unsplash, typed in the word bargain, and this was the second image that appeared.
Would you pay threeeee bucks for Boz Scaggs’ Down Two Then Left?
I don’t know. What tracks are on it again? What sort of condition is it in? How about the cover? It was released in the seventies. Better check they didn’t do that weird water thing with it.
Of course, when we’re talking $1 it’s somewhat impudent to be asking such questions.
Best just to tuck it under your arm, head straight for the counter, hand over your dollar and make a break for it.
Where do these crazy $1 bargains come from?
Well, for some, it’s hard to imagine a time when there was no streaming services, no digital downloads, no CDs. The was even a time when there were no cassettes and remote outposts like Hobart, Tasmania only had two or three radio stations, with a best one dedicated to playing music around the clock.
What can a poor boy do, ‘cept sing for a rock and roll…hang on, not many of those in Hobart either. So what do you do?
You buy records. Lots of them.
I saw an ad on a bulletin board from a young lady selling her grandfather’s record collection.
“How many records are there?”
“Lots. Lots and lots and lots. No cherry picking though. You gotta take the lot.”
“Estimate?”
“Five rooms, floor to ceiling.”
“Oh, I’ll bring a tape measure.”
By the time I left, I was covered in cobwebs, three of the “rooms” being under the house. I estimated about 6 ute loads to move and I didn’t really have anywhere to put them and I didn’t actually want my wife to kill me.
At least 20,000 records I surmised using my excellent tape measuring technique. I made a low ball offer knowing they probably wouldn’t accept.
“20,000 records. That’s a lot. Shame your grandfather didn’t have very good taste. There’s not a single Beatles record in there.”
“I know. He was a good christian man. Thought that rock and roll was the devil’s music.”
What could have been a million dollar collection was headed for the $1 bin. I expect some dealer showed up with a truck and took the lot away.
There were a few gems in there, rare jazz and folk, but that was about it.
Like most a this and many a collection, they made their way into the op-shops, the thrift shops, the secondhand warehouses and the bargain bin at the shady record store. If any of the dealers paid anything for them, it was by the kilogram.
That was maybe eight years ago and the vinyl craze hadn’t quite re-emerged in all its glory yet. Not in Hobart, anyway.
There were moments of bargain hunting glory still to be had.
Streetlights by Bonnie Raitt.
Bonnie goes bluesy country pop. While some may argue this is not Bonnie in her native environment, it really is a beautiful example of the genre. Raitt’s bluesy vocals largely avoids the schmaltz that detracts from so much 70s country pop. Her cover of Joni Mitchell’s That Song About the Midway and the title track offer just the right twist of melancholy.
The cover was a little worn but the disc was in excellent condition.
In fact, the whole family loves this one.
Bargain-o-meter: 7/7.
Big Brother and the Holding Company (self titled)
The first outing for the band, featuring of course, Janis Joplin on lead vocals. Not a bad record, though the production is a little bland and it lacks the visceral punch of either Cheap Thrills or Pearl.
The cover was in poor condition while the disc was a bit scratchy, scraping in at good. In mint condition, eminently collectable. But this, still a welcome bargain.
Bargain-o-meter: 5/7.
Spanish Guitar Music by Narciso Yepes.
I know, I know, classical music.
If there are two genres that infect the $1 bargain bin like the plague, it’s classical music and “easy” listening. There’s nothing easy about listening to “easy” listening.
Classical music, however, is a different story.
If I was to recommend a single classical record to a rock audience it would be this. Just Narciso and his guitar, playing the classics, and beautifully recorded by Deutsche Grammophon, as per usual.
Like a lot of the classical music in the $1 bin, this had barely been played and was in mint condition (I now have three copies).
This is one of my favourite records when I’m sitting in my shack on the mountain. Asturias is simply spine tingling. It will certainly be familiar to Doors’ fans.
Bargain-o-meter: 7/7.
Class Reunion by Delaney Bramlett.
The Delaney half of Bonnie, Delaney and Friends, it’s not uncommon to find the “didn’t quite make it” albums in the bargain bins and this is one of them.
Fairly mediocre country rock, only Locked Up In Alabama, with some rather slinky pedal steel guitar, left much of an impression.
What is truly exceptional about this record are the credits on the back cover. Taking up almost half of the back cover, in small print across three columns, Delaney seemingly thanks everyone who’s anymore in the known rock and roll universe.
Man, what a name dropper!
Bargain-o-meter: 3/7.
Dedication. Gary “US” Bonds.
I remember This Little Girl when it came out and I loved it. What I didn’t realise at the time was that it was written by Bruce Springsteen, who, along with the E Street Band, had a very strong hand in this album, including songwriting, playing and production.
Perhaps as close to a Bruce Springsteen record as you can get without The Boss on lead vocals.
A very good record in good condition.
Bargain-o-meter: 6/7.
Blind Joe Death. John Fahey.
No, not the original release, but the re-release on Sonnet. Billed as the first indie record EVER, just John and his guitar. Folk blues rather than classical this time.
I’m a sucker for the solo guitar record so this is another shack mainstay.
The cover is completely fucked, but the disc itself is in remarkably good condition.
Bargain-o-meter: 4/7.
Greatest Hits. ELO.
I lied. The one was 50 cents. Greatest Hit collections are by definition “product”, designed to give the casual listener an entry point.
They’re not only an inferior product conceptually, but the sound quality in pre-digital days was always degraded for two reasons. One, there’ll always be at least one extra tape transfer to make the master tape and, two, the temptation was to cram as much as possible onto the album, thus requiring shallower grooves resulting in lower signal levels.
Often a bogus assertion where a band had two or three hits which just surrounded by filler.
Not so with ELO. Wall to wall hits from start to finish. More than 50,000 copies sold in Australia alone, so hardly a rarity.
A deep scratch on side two also renders Telephone Line and Sweet Talking Woman unplayable. But for 50 cents, what do you expect?
Bargain-o-meter: 4/7.
This is the second installment in my record store adventures. You can read the first here:
