There are few things I enjoy more than rifling through rows of discs at new and used music stores like the Sound Exchange on Nebraska Ave. in North Tampa. I spent an hour and a half there this evening finding what I considered to be the best deals in the shop. Came home with five CDs and a VHS copy of the James Bond flick From Russia with Love ($1.99) for under $42.
We Sold Our Soul For Rock 'N' Roll, Black Sabbath (used, $3.99)
My dad and I argued vehemently about a lot of shit when I was growing up. But not music. Pops has good taste. So does Mom, for that matter. And two of my three younger siblings. The sister with the Celine Dion CDs in her collection makes up for what she lacks in music taste with sweetness. Really, she's probably the kindest person I know. (Which makes me wonder if "good" taste in music makes you an asshole, because I know I sure can be one.) Anyway, I was at a flea market one day with my dad and he spotted a used CD of Black Sabbath's Paranoid and purchased it for me — telling me, much to my surprise, that he and my mom attended a Sabbath show on one of their earliest dates. (They're high school sweethearts). I loved the disc but when I got to high school the only kids into Sabbath were dudes who hung out only with other dudes and didn't exactly fit into the popular guys/pretty girls niche I was trying to infiltrate. So I kept my Sabbath habit down to a single disc. Today I expanded it with this 14-track best-of that cost me less than the price of a cheap six-pack. Somehow or another, all the songs sound familiar. Especially "Sweet Leaf" ... That's right. My buddy Mad Dog was a Sabbath fan, too, and played their music on occasion, at parties, when the night got late and weird and heavy riffs felt right even to the people who despised the headbanger crowd.
Boomer's Story, Ry Cooder (new, $11.99)
I've been on a huge Cooder kick lately thanks to a recent purchase of Borderline and the subsequent borrowing/burning of Paradise and Lunch and Chicken Skin Music (they make for one helluva twofer — thanks PoHo). During my pre-Joe Walsh concert bar hop, a person my age I dubbed Car Bomb Chris complained about Walsh being left off Rolling Stone's 100 Greatest Guitarists in favor of "some guy named Ry Cooder." I agree that Walsh should've made the list. But not at the expense of Cooder. A part of me wishes I could play Car Bomb Chris the instrumental version of "Dark End of the Street" that's on this disc. Might change his mind.
Street Songs, Rick James (used, $6.99)
I was in sixth or seventh grade when MC Hammer's "U Can't Touch This" became the song to make out to at Skate Odyssey, the old rink in North Tampa where we all had our moms drop us off Friday nights. I'm not sure if "U Can't Touch This" was playing that night I botched my kiss with Harah Day but I do recall absolutely loving the song — especially the funky beat. By high school, I had figured out the part I loved most was Rick James' contribution. A longtime fan of the single "Super Freak," I finally got around to buying the album, which is worth the money just for the cover photo. And "Ghetto Life." And "Make Love to Me." And "Mr. Policeman."
Sleepless, Peter Wolf (used, $8.99)
So, I'm done laughing my ass off at the Billy Bob Thornton/John Cusack flick Ice Harvest and here comes this great hillbilly/road song by some guy I don't recognize accompanied on vocals by someone I am pretty damn sure is Mick Jagger. Luckily, I remembered to look for this disc about 40 minutes into my perusing session.
Freedom, Neil Young (used, $4.99)
I've let too many people borrow CDs over the years. They probably figure since I have more music than any sane person needs that they're doing me a favor by not returning borrowed items. My brother is very guilty of this and has admitted that he feels no remorse about lifting CDs from me that will help him be a better musician. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I owned this album at one time or another in my life. At five bucks, it's the proverbial steal, if only to get the two versions (acoustic/electric) of "Rockin' in the Free World" and the tear-inducing ballad "Wrecking Ball," which Emmylous Harris covered.
