MY CAREER IN RECORD STORES - Part 5

Throwback to November 1984, the month I started working at Record Bar in Tri-County Mall and thus began my career in record stores.

Some of the stuff on the new release rack at the time I really liked, while other titles were a total mystery to me how anybody could like them at all. Klymaxx fell into the gray area middle ground between those two extremes. I liked it and found it mildly interesting, but primarily because I thought it was unintentionally funny. Also, I remember a rumor that one or more of the members of the group were actually men in drag. Androgyny was the mark of that whole decade in music. But if you look closely at this album cover, a couple of the ladies do look kinda butch.

I was just the FNG at the time, but I do recall that Lush Life was a head scratcher for everyone on the staff. The second release in what would be a trilogy of albums featuring old Jazz standards, Linda Ronstadt's slide into Easy Listening was unexpected and particularly disconcerting for those of us who thought she made some decent records in the seventies. Certified platinum in a matter of weeks, nominated for a Grammy, it went on to sell over 10 million copies. A lot of aunts and grannies found this one under the Christmas tree that year.

To this day I don't understand the appeal of Duran Duran. Is there something I should know? From my perspective, they only occasionally mustered an interesting guitar tone and had little else going on worthy of mention. Conversely, I wasn't bothered at all by the legion of heavily painted black-clad New Wave & Punk Rock chicks who flooded the store to purchase their records. Indeed, certain pivotal events of my teenage years would have been quite different without that contingent.

By the end of the following year, I would be a huge fan of Bob Dylan. But when I first started working at Record Bar at the end of 1984 I was not. Only 17 at the time, there was very little outside of my Hard Rock favorites like KISS, AC/DC and Van Halen that I really cared for. It was Paul Horton of course who eventually succeeded in turning me on to Dylan. But when Bob dropped the clunker Real Live in my first month on the job, I could see it Paul's face that this would not be the album to convert anyone. Admirable contributions from Mick Taylor, Ian McLagan and Carlos Santana were not enough to make up for Bob's lackluster and uninspired performances. It sounded to me then as it still does today, like Bob was shouting to be heard over his 1984 touring band. It wasn't until the following year when Dylan released Empire Burlesque that it clicked for me. Of course by then Paul had been spinning Blood on the Tracks in the store, as well as Highway 61, Blonde on Blonde, and a choice few others. At that point, there was no looking back.

The Honeydrippers Volume 1 EP will forever live in its own unique place in history. From my first listen all those years ago right up to this writing, I find it hard to categorize or criticize this record. For a 5-song mini-LP, there's a lot to unpack here. Ostensibly a Robert Plant solo vehicle, it is unlike anything else he's ever done. Jeff Beck and Jimmy Page contribute guitar tracks to a selection of old R&B tunes originally recorded by Ray Charles, Roy Brown, and more. When you look back on the early 80s, there was very little of this kind of nostalgia for early R&B. It would be years before the swing band revival craze of the 90s. Then and now, this thing is a straight up anomaly. Weirder still, It produced a hit single with "Sea of Love'' going all the way to #3. I recall we played it a lot in the store. And even with all the disparate personalities on the staff, we all enjoyed it.

Some of the biggest selling records of 1984 were released in November of that year. Albums by Madonna, Bryan Adams, Don Henley, and many others dropped in those days just before Christmas. By 1984, the record industry had long ago figured out how to stack their hottest new releases in that crucial 4th quarter of the calendar year. Lots of Greatest Hits collections. The major labels were raking it in and the party had just begun. Still a teenager at that time, my taste in music had already strayed quite far from mainstream Top 40 garbage. In retrospect, it was cynicism that may have been the top export I harvested from my hero Frank Zappa. In 1984 I managed to track down a few of my favorite rock stars and get their autographs in hotel lobbies, on city sidewalks, and waiting by the backstage door. I had a car, a job at the record store, and a tendency to spend my paychecks on concert tickets. In the first half of the following year I would attend my first shows at Bogart's and the Jockey Club before my high school graduation in June 1985. My inevitable embrace of Bob Dylan coincided with my discovery of Iggy & the Stooges and Punk Rock. There was a lot going on. Things were changing fast. It was impossible to keep up with it all. Mainstream popular music was like dead weight. I don't remember thinking it through and making a conscious decision to do so, I just cut it loose from my boat, let it sink to the bottom and set out for uncharted waters at top speed. I was still a kid but already I knew that nothing interesting happened until you let yourself go way out on the fringes anyway.