Vinyl Junkees, is what I’m talkin about. Yeah it’s all the rage with the hipsters and whoevers…whatever…I guess they’re carrying little record players around with them to coffee shops and stuff – well, good for them I say, good for them. But the djs from Vinyl Voices clearly do not fall under that hipster category. Even the very young Vinyl Junkees have a passion for the music and the medium that is not easy to fathom or understand; it’s obsession, really.
I started out as a little kid in the 60s with Beatles and Rolling Stones albums, Santa brought those to me and I dug the shit out of those. But then as I turned 10 or so I started using my allowance money to purchase my own records…7 inches, 45s. Little affordable black disks with big holes. My little girlfriends and I were absolutely obsessed with The Monkees, our favorite group and tv show. My friends all were in love with Davey Jones…I liked Peter Tork, just to be different, I suppose. We’d take our allowance money over to Kresge’s every Saturday, buy a halter top, a pair of jeans maybe, and at least one or two 45s to add to our collections. We quite often wouldn’t buy the same records, but would go back to someone’s (not mine…my parents were against this activity) house and just play everything we bought. Our collections all put together was what was important to all of us, I guess. We were a music collective. Sometimes trades were made, on the level of boys trading baseball cards. We did think very highly of ourselves when we’d see someone trade a Pleasant Valley Sunday for a Herman’s Hermits’ Mrs. Brown You’ve Got a Lovely Daughter, knowing full well that PVS was a much higher value. An Ike and Tina Turner 7 inch was maybe equal to a new Rolling Stones single – that would have been a tough call back then. We used to do things like call Cousin Brucie at WABC in New York City to ask him what his favorite song really was. We’d giggle like schoolgirls – oh, wait, we were schoolgirls. We were doing this stuff from ages 10 through 12.
My friends Bunny Mellish and Patty Botta had the coolest 45 carrying cases – I had to settle for a plain, non-psychedelic one…that really bummed me out. I wasn’t allowed to do many things that Bunny, my very best friend, could do, but learned how to come up with really great, plausible accountings of where I had been and what I had been up to back in those days. I really earned my fun I guess. So I had to store many of my 45s at Bunny’s – her basement was like my secret life.
That’s just one story of one Vinyl Voices Junkee – there are 8-million stories in the Naked City – ok, well, maybe more like dozens and dozens. Look here for more heart-warming tales.