ARGH!!
Note: the story about the gas money is more complicated than I tell but if you want the gory deets, talk to ARGH!! Also note: to my mind "Collectible" as a noun is spelled with an "i," whereas Blue Moon spell it with an "a" (which is how I might spell it as an adjective, in keeping with the rules described here), but I have learned in the process of writing this that both spellings are valid, whether adjective or noun, and that there is a maddening lack of consistency about which is "right" (though Blue Moon is in keeping with Grammarly on this matter). Super cool record store, is the point!
Suburban record stores often suffer from a similar condition. Even when run by people of taste and experience, they often have a poverty of cool stock (because it's the suburbs and the people stuck out there tend to hang onto the good shit -- or snap it up when it comes in); and when cool stuff does come in, it can tend to be expensive, because the owners know that no other nearby shop has it and that the locals will pay a bit extra for ("save them a trip into the city"). As a customer, you learn to lower your expectations, and/ or to adjust your shopping strategies, looking for things that are reasonably obscure and reasonably cool, but not in high demand -- neither the mainstream bread-and-butter Pink Floyd, Neil Young, Led Zep and Fleetwood Mac albums (which tend to be overpriced at such stores, because they need to make a living somehow) nor that $75 Ramones bootleg which was there the last four times you came in. If that's the stuff you crave, you can get it cheaper downtown, so you look instead for something weird-ass that a) people in the suburbs won't necessarily be hunting, and/ or b) that the owners know they'll never get a steep price for (or, better yet, that they don't realize is actually cool, because they've never heard of it). I've taken transit to Redrum Records in White Rock to buy Don't Let the Hope Close Down, following this sort of principle, paying a mere $15 for it (the Hope features in a couple of Robyn Hitchcock projects -- the Soft Boys' Lope at the Hive is actually "live at the Hope," which venue is also mentioned in his song "Trash," where seeing a loser down at the Hope is rhymed with the observation that they're looking for, yep, "a piece of dope" (which is on this terrific album, but not available as a stand-alone track on Youtube). The same record (Don't Let the Hope Close Down, that is) would cost over $50 to ship in from Discogs. I wasn't actually looking for that album, mind you -- and really, who among us is? -- but I stumbled across it on the Redrum website (usefully searchable, as is Groove Cat out in New West).
Imagine my surprise when I discovered, on a thrifting run out to Ladner, of all places, not only was there a record store -- Blue Moon Collectables, on the same street as the thrift store -- but that, right there in the new arrivals bin, they had a copy of Tornado Juice by Brother JT, non-coincidentally right next to the Original Sins' Big Soul and Self-Destruct (the two best albums by the original band of the JT in question, John Terlesky). I had thought I might find a Rush album I didn't have, but finding a Brother JT album... well, it put Blue Moon on a whole 'nother level.
Reasons I was excited:
1. I had interviewed JT six years ago at the time of the release of this record, when it was his current album. My favourite song from Tornado Juice ("Snakebit") was discussed at some length and remains on my phone. I think I even re-read some Nathaniel West because of it (Miss Lonelyhearts is a fucking heartbreaker; I have yet to have the courage for Day of the Locust).
2. But no one in Vancouver stocks Brother JT. I am told (by Nick Mitchum, in fact, a few of whose names will come up presently) that at the peak of used CD action, in the mid-90s, Zulu Records -- who had an entire upstairs devoted to CDs, back then -- used to have a file card for him. I also found a few of his CDs in the discount section at Audiopile, maybe ten years ago, where I had my "Wait a minute, this is John Terlesky of the Original Sins!" moment. But -- based in Philadelphia, disinclined to tour (tho' the Original Sins apparently did make it to the Town Pump once!) -- JT doesn't have enough presence for the buyers at most Vancouver music stores to gamble on him now. He's a "who's this" kind of guy, despite decades of terrific releases. Go try to sell an Orchard Pinkish CD in Philadelphia -- I'm sure you'll have a similar experience; if you want JT material, you're best just writing the guy yourself. He's happy to sign things, and has things besides music for sale!
3. However, I'm a fan, and had even tried to buy the record back when I did that interview, except JT didn't have a copy of it, and getting it shipped from the label in the States was a dealbreaker (would have been $50 with shipping, maybe more if customs waylaid it, all of which back in 2018 seemed a whole lot to pay for a single record).
4. But in the years since doing that interview, I have continued to think about that record, wondering if I should buy it "before I stop buying records for once and for all," you know? Every time "Snakebit" comes up on my phone, I'm like, "Damn, this is a great song, and I don't own a single Brother JT record on vinyl, only Original Sins stuff." I like to have the songs I've interviewed people about somewhere on hand, you know? (Not just as a digital file!). Fun cover art, the other songs are enjoyable too (tho' "Snakebit" is really the grabber). It's never been far from my longlist, my "finite" list as I sometimes call it, while Erika stares at me skeptically.
5. Nonetheless, unsurprisingly, I haven't seen the record, ever, up here (I think I even asked Red Cat if they could order it in, but either it wasn't in print or, once again, it would cost me $50. I mean, it's really only the one song I'm in love with, you know? And not "$50 in love," so to speak.)
The record at Blue Moon was a mere $20. Well tickle me Elmo, I'm buying this!
There was a final reason to get excited, but more about the two Original Sins records than the Brother JT one, because I know one other JT fan out here: the artist known as ARGH!!, also known as Nick Mitchum on social media, who is also occasionally called Ken (which might be a secret, but it's part of the story, so I've got to out him. Just think of him as Nick Mitchum, though, okay?). He might not have those Original Sins records, I thought! (These also are a super-cool, unexpected find at ANY record store, but even moreso one in the sticks). Maybe I should phone him?
This thought intensified as I discovered another album in the stacks that only Nick, among my friends, would get excited about -- Jerry Jerry and the Sons of Rhythm Orchestra's Battle Hymn of the Apartment. Jerry Jerry and the Sons of Rhythm Orchestra, if you've missed them, are -- just as we can say with some confidence that Shock Waves is the best underwater Nazi zombie movie -- by far the best libertarian gospel surf band from Edmonton, beloved or at least beknownst to the fans of the It Came From Canada comps, but not widely appreciated in Vancouver these days. I have never interacted with Jerry, but I've seen him live and owned his records since about 1985, when his first LP came out. I listened to him this morning, on the way to work, even! And occasionally I have glanced bemusedly at the $50 copy of Road Gore: The Band That Drank Too Much on the wall at Noize to Go, waiting there for the day that some Japanese tourist with a hard-on for weird Canadiana stumbles into the shop. My own current copy came from a thrift store (for $2.99), and the copy I owned before that came from Collectors' RPM, back when it was still their only release (think it was maybe $12 new?). $50 is an ambitious price for a Jerry Jerry record, but clearly Dale of Noize is prepared to wait for the right customer, who will no doubt be an out-of-towner, since there are only two known Jerry Jerry fans locally and both of us already have it. It touches me to see it still sitting there on his wall -- Dale's devotion to that putative foreign customer, indeed his very belief that this customer might exist, and his adamancy that he will get $50 for that record someday (even though you can get it for less on Discogs WITH SHIPPING) all somehow move me. They might actually irritate me if I didn't have the record already, but since I do and know no one else coveting it, it's become a thing-to-do when I'm in Noize. The day will come where it is no longer there and I will remark on this to Dale and ask what happened to it, and he will say, "It sold!" and I'll say "For the asking price?" and he'll say "Yes!" and I'll be really, really happy for him (then ask where the buyer was from...).
Battle Hymn of the Apartment, at Blue Moon, was much more affordable (it's a slightly more mass-appeal kind of recording compared to Road Gore, but does have some fabulous songs on it, like "The Drift"). And since I only know one other person who knows that you can't get into heaven with a tattoo on your ass, I set it aside with those Original Sins records and began to flip through the new arrivals bin with renewed excitement, now shopping not just for myself but at least potentially for Nick Mitchum, who I planned to call (as soon as I was done, myself). Look, there's a Bonzo Dog Band album! Hell, this shit is up his alley even more than it is mine!
That's when things started to get surreal, because just after the Jerry Jerry record, there was a bunch of Root Boy Slim stuff -- someone who I myself am not a fan of, but who Nick sure is. I was already in the process of leaving him a message when my Spidey sense (tm) began to tingle, because then there was a giant signed Roy Loney poster, a signed Jonathan Richman, a signed Eugene Chadbourne, and ... what the fuck, here's a Kinky Friedman record inscribed "to Ken." Hell, there may have been a Chuck E. Weiss record in there, somewhere, too.
There is more ARGH!!-related news, however. ARGH!! (Nick, Ken) did the art for NO FUN's beloved 1894 release, which is surely the richest, most delightful, flat-out BEST Vancouver-area record from the 1980s that almost no one reading this owns. It is in the process of being reconfigured for vinyl! A couple of tracks had to be shifted around and there's some omitted Tribute to Elvis material (and the "1894 Theme" is gone, which I'm a bit sad about), but it's still cause for a big excitement. I have seen a test copy and the cover (my introduction to ARGH!!, beyond some strips in Discorder) is delightful, much more fun on a proper full-sized album cover than it could hope to be on a mere (pshaw) cassette. As Kevin House pointed out the other night at the Jeffrey Lewis show, it owes a great deal to Big Daddy Roth, whom ARGH!! admired and met back in the day. I actually knew my ARGH!! before I knew my Roth:
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