Record Store Week, Day 4: Horizon Records, Greenville, SC

If you're just tuning in, all this week at SIO, I'm profiling some independent record stores that have had an impact on my brief tenure on this bright blue marble. I am NOT ranking these record stores, merely providing anecdotes and/or vignettes of what these specific records stores mean in the context of a decade-plus of throwing money at patchouli-smelling, cooler-than-you hipster types.

Yesterday, I devoted the post to Earshot, one of the two fantastic independent record stores in my sorta-hometown of Greenville, SC. Today, Day 4 of Record Store Week, is all about the other, equally-as-awesome independent record store, Horizon Records.

First, one should know that Horizon Records can NOT be compared to Earshot in anyway. It's like comparing a great beer to a great wine: both satisfy the same need only in different ways. The two stores sell records, CDs, books, DVDs, and other assortment of musicalia. Their similarities end there. Each store serves a specific purpose for a specific and discerning crowd and the fact that these two stores have coexisted for over a decade in the same conservative city in the Upstate of South Carolina (really, one of the most unususal places for two great independent records stores, don't ya think?) is nothing short of phenomenal. I got nothing but love for both of them. G-vegas, baby! Fo-eva!...sorry...

Horizon Records has been owned and operated for nearly 35 years by Mr. Gene Berger (aka, The Cranky Dub Master). He is, undoutedly, one of the coolest guys to pass your time conversing with. His musical knowledge is awe-inducing, and he's turned me on to more than seven or eight artists that are now regular staples in my repetoire including Chuck Prophet, Rogue Wave, Southern Culture On the Skids, Mingus, etc. Gene is synonymous with Horizon Records and in an age of shifting CEOs and business turnovers, that is saying something.

One of Horizon Records' main attractions, however, is the numerous FREE in-store performances that the store hosts on a weekly (sometimes daily) basis. I died a little inside a few months ago when The Silver Jews showed up to play a free in-store and I no longer lived a mere 15 minutes away. (In case you missed it The Silver Jews have retired from music as of Feb 2009.) And I missed the Rogue Wave in-store because I was lazy and it was a hot summer day and I had no air conditioner in my car. But I have seen everyone from The Avett Brothers (me and six other people saw that--this was very much before they were the megastars they are now) to Bela Fleck, to Charlie Louvin, to Aimee Mann. All for free. And in a comfortable setting, with beer and coffee. And, tellingly, every artist that has ever walked through the door at Horizon Records has always said the same thing: "You all are lucky to have a store like this because there aren't many of these left."

Horizon Records moved into a swanky new building about four or five years ago. It's all hardwood floors and exposed ceilings now, but I remember when they were stationed in a smaller trailer-esque building on the (now) kind of crappy part of Greenville. My first trip there I picked up a used copy of Minor Threat, Complete Discography and a record by The Cars (Candy-O, I think). Later that year I paid $6 for a copy of George Harrison, All Things Must Pass and as I exited the store I literally remember thinking, "Why did I ever go to Best Buy to buy music?" I don't know why it suddenly hit me that day, but I do remember it as my "great awakening" to the need and role of the independent record store in a free-market society and the role the consumer plays. So, in more than one sense, Horizon Records changed my perception of what a record store is, let alone what it can and should be. But I'm sure I'm not the first person to say that about them, nor will I be the last.

(The record cover wasn't in color when I bought it, ya know.)

Record Store Day, Day 2: Harvest Records, Asheville, NC

If you're just tuning in, all this week at SIO, I'm profiling some independent record stores that have had an impact on my brief tenure on this bright blue marble. I am NOT ranking these record stores, merely providing anecdotes and/or vignettes of what these specific records stores mean in the context of a decade-plus of throwing money at patchouli-smelling, cooler-than-you hipster types.

And speaking of patchouli...Harvest Records in lovely Asheville, NC is, thankfully, free of any of the usual cliches that the city of Asheville embodies so well.

There are many great things about Harvest Records; it's not a large store by any means, but somehow they seem to pack every inch of space with music that you feel like you absolutely must buy. Plenty of vinyl, a decent used section, a wall of new releases, and (this really can make or break a record store) a great section for music mag and homemade zines. (Sometimes I feel the need to read about my music in sloopily put-together, handmade black and white, disproportionately sized zines.)

Harvest Records is not positioned in downtown Asheville--which is great, because downtown Asheville really is maddening. So you're free to peruse the fruits of the Harvest (Jesus, I'm sorry for that one...) without being accosted by a 40 year-old hippie looking to recruit you to his commune where Dennis Kucinich is their leader. The guys who own the store are really swell and friendly dudes and when you hear them talking with customers about how much they love Pearl Jam, Ten, it's not ironic at all. They really love that album (for some reason). Additionally, they have managed to bring some of the best shows I've seen to one of the best venues (The Grey Eagle, if you're keeping score) in the Southeast: Mark Kozelek, Magnolia Electric Co, Damien Jurado. Bonnie "Prince" Billy is making an rare appearance that I won't be around for thanks to these guys and their little record store.

The last time I made it to Harvest Records was in early August of 2008 (it's a quite a drive to Asheville from the Coast of South Carolina). I picked up The Black Kids, Partie Traumatic and The Jesus and Mary Chain, Psychocandy and rocked foolishly all the way to my Grandma's house in Kingsport, TN. I don't think I'll make it back to Harvest Records anytime soon and that saddens me. I used to live a mere hour and fifteen minutes from Asheville, NC but now I've tacked on an extra three hours to that equation. And quizzically enough one only begins to realize how good things were once they're gone. I think Tupac Shakur said that, later echoed in a sentiment by small-time rap artist-turned millionaire mogul Puff Daddy when he said:

Yeah livin the raw deal, three course meals Spaghetti, fettucini, and veal But still, everythings real in the field And what you cant have now, leave in your will But dont knock me for tryin to bury Seven zeros, over in rio dijanery

Or something like that.

Record Store Day, Day 1: The Sound Garden, Baltimore, MD

This record store, The Sound Garden (bad name, I know), near the Inner Harbor of Baltimore slips in merely as a record store of interest. I believe I spent approximately 30 minutes in this vast and oddly shaped store--hardly enough time to offer a distinct recommendation one way or another on it merits. But the reason I'm including it as part of the five days in countdown to Record Store Day this Saturday, April 18, is for one simple reason: nostalgia.

The element of nostalgia cannot be underestimated when it comes to the field of music and that extends to the stores that sell the music we ingest, too. Before I knew that music was sold at independent record stores, I would venture with my best friend to the nearest metropolis, an hour's drive away, and we would load up on CDs from Best Buy. Mostly because the prices were cheap, but also because we didn't know any better at the time. (We were young and foolish then.)

The aforementioned best friend moved to Baltimore for a brief stint a few years ago and I came to visit him in his fair city. As a whole, Baltimore is not a pleasant place; it's dark, poverty-stricken, and more than a little creepy in an ominous-feeling way. The Inner Harbor is the fancier, more gentrified area of Baltimore and it is nice to see. But it still seems like a facade, like someone threw some white paint on a wall that needed to be scrubbed with bleach. Nonetheless, it's passable for a nighttime stroll.

My friend, his roommate, and I made a last-minute decision to go to the record store about an hour before they were set to close. We got in, got out and all walked away with a CD each. He with Animal Collective, Strawberry Jam, his roommate with a house/techno disc I don't recall the name of, and me with the Clap Your Hands Say Yeah, self-titled debut disc. I missed the hype on that particular band and was playing catch-up in the used bin and $6 seemed like a fair price for hype.

Needless to say, the disc has become one of my favorites; a rare disc I do not grow tired of. I can queue it up right now and still love every minute of it. After our respective purchases the three of us walked to the local ice cream shop for some over-priced desserts. We road around Baltimore that night listening to a blend of discs including St. Vincent, Marry Me, The National, Boxer, Silversun Pickups, Carnavas, and Kevin Drew (of Broken Social Scene), Spirit If... We discussed the merits of bands past and present, argued over the direction of indpendent music, and got way too drunk for our own good that night. CYHSY became the soundtrack to my time spent in Baltimore; the record became entrenched in consciousness as an artifact forever married to a specfic point in my life, and the record store it came from stands out as a beacon of nostalgia.

Record Store Week, All Week

In celebration of Record Store Day this Saturday, April 18, I thought I'd take a look at some of the independent record stores that have been pretty instrumental in furthering my addiction to the purchasing of used and new LPs, CDs, cassette tapes, DVDs, and music magazines. It's an addiction that has fostered and developed over many years and its incessant nature has driven some mad and delighted others. But it's always been fun.

For me, there's nothing quite like visiting an independent record store. You may not always find what you want, but the experience is always worth it. I could say more but the triteness of any sentiment I could muster would only appear stereotypical and lame. I love music; I love buying music. And I really love buying music from a store I feel a connection to either physically or emotionally, however fleeting or long-standing.

Everyday this week I'm going to highlight a specific record store each day, hopefully with an small anecdote about what that particular store means or meant to me. So thanks for reading and feel free to leave whatever great record stores you think I should check out in the "Comments" section.

Girl, Why Not Take Out the Trash?

This past Sunday I dug into the mess that is my bonus room (or FROG - Front Room Over the Garage here in Chucktown). CDs, books, comics, computers parts, and random papers were everywhere. Here's the soundtrack to Sunday cleaning. As you can tell I gave up after about three hours. A body can only take so much. (CD images link to amazon.com)

Built to Spill, Live--My obsession with BTS continues. One day I will see them live. Or not. Either way 20 minutes of Neil Young's "Cortez the Killer" was enough to drive my wife and cats crazy.

They Might Be Giants, The Else--TMBG rock better than most bands who have been around for 20 years. (Yes, I'm looking in your direction U2, Eric Clapton, The Rolling Stones, R.E.M., etc.) Every album manages to sound fresh to me despite whatever beef Pitchfork has with them. P4K seems incapable of handing them a good review.

Band of Gypsys, Live--Picked this one up on Record Store Day on vinyl. Even remastered the sound is still just-okay. But damn, Billy Cox and Buddy Miles make a hell of a rhythm section. An awkward, but fitting end to Hendrix's career...and really the only album I can stomach listening to now (they all remind me too much of Jr High when I was cranking out Hendrix licks on my axe).

You can still download Piltdown from Wide Awake Press, the Free Comic offered as part of Free Comic Book Day! Do it! To see my stellar piece, view the HTML version and I'm at the end (page 43). Or just skip to this link. (Sorry, Chris.)

Guess who's going to see Radiohead this Friday in Charlotte? (Hint: It's me.)