Beat Junkie on a Budget

October 30, 2007 by Patrick  Send to a Friend

One man. Five record shops. $10. Anything can happen.

A few months ago, I was browsing through the 99-cent bin at Som Records when I stumbled upon an album by Rita Lee, the one-time singer of Os Mutantes.
Duly noting the connection, I took it home and found the music to be rather enjoyable.
About a week later, I decided to see if my purchase was worth anything. I scanned E-bay and was stunned to find copies going for as much as $40.

The gears in my mind began turning.

I wondered to myself “How many other golden eggs are waiting to be discovered in DC record stores?”

For about a day, I considered becoming full time crate digger for profit. But I rubbished that I idea when I realized how difficult it is for me to part with music, no matter how little I paid for it.
Recently, I fell into economic hard times and found myself unable to spend as much money on music as I used to. Using my unexpectedly tightened budget as inspiration, I decided to revisit the discount bins at several area record stores and see how much good stuff I could purchase for ten bucks.

DISCLAIMER:
Before I get started, I should probably address the inevitable criticism:

“Um, why not just the download music? Not only would it be free, you wouldn’t have to, like, leave your house.”

The purpose of this expedition is to remind you of the value of patience and the wonder of surprise.
In addition, physically sifting through CDs and records is a lot less strenuous on the eyes.

Som Records
1848 14th Street NW

You must take warning when entering Som. Not because of the snarky owner (he is, in fact, a very nice fellow) but because of the steps. They are short and slippery. If you try to rush in, you will fall down and probably make a fool of yourself in front of the beautiful people who often congregate next door at Saint Ex.
After greeting the owner and snapping a few photos, I pulled over a cushioned stool and got to work. I made it a point to avoid classic million sellers like Thriller or Dark Side of the Moon because there’s nothing cool or surprising about finding them. Instead I opted to search for releases with really cool artwork.
My first catch of the day was an album by Pop Art. Based on the cover photo alone, I could’ve sworn these guys were signed to Creation Records at one time or another. Sadly, a more thorough inspection of the sleeve revealed that they were from southern California. The second was a beautiful raw cardboard-sleeved maxi-single by Luxuria, a late 80s project featuring former Buzzcock Howard Devoto.
I was feeling nice. The day had started off well and I was making good progress…

Smash!
2314 18th Street NW, 2nd Floor.

Up until a few months ago, Smash! was located on M Street in Georgetown. Before the move, the store regularly attracted curious tourists and annoying preppies looking for a laugh. At the new Adams Morgan spot, I get the feeling that most people who come through have a clear idea of what they’re getting themselves into.
There is no 99 cent bin here. Instead, there are two long boxes of used 45-rpm singles and a large shelf of cassettes. Since I no longer have a tape player, I sprawled out on the floor and started flippin’ through the wax. I considered purchasing two singles by the Bionic Man, but instead settled for a couple of classics that needed a good home: a noisy copy of the Pretenders “Brass in Pocket (I’m Special)” and Pete Shelley’s “Homosapien” (what a coincidence, as I had just purchased a solo release by one of his former bandmates).
I would’ve spent a bit more time searching, but a fly was bothering me. Sorry, I tend to lose my patience quickly when being annoyed by insects.

Crooked Beat
2318 18th Street NW

Shit.
I knew I would regret coming in here with then intention of spending $2 or less.
As I walked through the store, I started noticing all sorts of goodies. A McCarthy reissue, an expanded version of John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band, a two-disc Brian Jonestown Massacre retrospective, a Public Image Limited DVD. Ugh. I clenched my fists and promised that I would return for these items when I was feeling a little less guilty about spending money.
The crates proved to be terribly disappointing. I gave up on vinyl after finding two copies of Sting’s 1985 snoozefest, The Dream of Blue Turtles. The dollar CD rack was equally dismal. In the end I settled on a promo copy of The Race’s The Ice Station. I had no idea who this band was and the description taped to the cover wasn’t much help. But I’ll justify this purchase using the following logic: You know when the Pentagon will buy a bunch of useless C-17 cargo carriers so that it can spend its entire budget? Yea, this was kind of like that…

CD/Game Exchange
Next to McDonald’s on 18th and Columbia NW.

This store has a massive, I do repeat MASSIVE, second-hand CD selection. But it was sheer hell trying to find anything of value. Granted, I saw some titles that could’ve used a good home ( e.g. The Breeders Last Splash, Terence Trent D’Arby’s Symphony or Damn), but SHIT seemed to reign supreme.
In situations like this, it’s best to close your eyes and think of every review or recommendation you’ve ever read. If you’ve got a good memory, something will eventually catch your eye.
After much head scratching, I walked out with Edan’s psychedelic hip-hop debut Beauty and the Beat (a favorite of my boy 100dBs) and an import from the 80s Matchbox B-Line Disaster (British Sea Power are fans). Sweet. And I still had $3 bucks to chill with.

Red Onion Records & Books
1901 18th Street NW

Like Crooked Beat, Red Onion is the sort of establishment where you can easily lose track of time and money. I enjoy shopping here because it feels like I’m hanging out in my cool older cousin’s basement. There is also a fine selection of travel guides. Sometimes, I cannot help but feel that this place was tailor made for my tastes.
For some bizarre reason, I cannot leave this store without at least one early 80s pop record. It’s a shame really, because this store has so much more to offer. Hell, on this particular visit, the discount bin had a good chunk of U2’s back catalog. (Don’t laugh; I’m currently in the process of reevaluating their career). That being said, I blew my remaining George Washingtons on a Thomas Dolby record. No, it’s not the one with “She Blinded Me With Science.”

Fin!!!

PS
If this little adventure hasn’t convinced you to stop browsing through I-Tunes music store or whatever BitTorrent program you downloaded, I don’t know what will…

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