Thou Shalt Not Steal if There is a Direct Victim
Times are tough. Somebody said that to me just this morning in a half-hearted defense of what appeared to be a petty theft. I guess when people get squeezed or even desperate, that’s the way they get by (even if it’s just pilfering a bottle of Gatorade left on a bench).
Times are tough all around. Recognizing the unpredictability of the times and trying to be a bit smarter with the cash, I recently decided to engage in one of the most humiliating acts I can imagine. This act of shame cannot be summarized in single sentence, so I have to set it up. You’ll have to endure it too.
For those of you who know me through these pages, it might not be hard to imagine that I have a considerable collection of music (one might call it bloated) on a variety of media (but thankfully no 8-tracks anymore). For those of you who know me well, you know that the music is the least of my obsessions. So the books, the concert posters, and the things I can’t tell my mother about, well, they’re all sort of stacking up around here too.
A little more than a week ago, while sitting in the midst of the room whose primary function seems to be to house this stuff I’m talking about (others might call it an office) I looked over my left shoulder at the 4 foot high, 3 foot wide shelf of CDs sitting there next to me. Hmmm, the cheap particle board that the shelves are made of seem to be sagging from the weight. “Gotta fix that”, I think. I note here that this is an event that would have caused at least one ex to arm herself with the credit card and run to Pottery Barn to solve the problem. I took a different approach. I simply decided that I would take the cheaper, albeit less aesthetic, route of flipping the shelves over and allowing the weight of the CDs (with an assist from Sir Issac Newton’s chief discovery) to correct the sagging problem. That move has now exposed to view the cheap particle board on the side not covered by the cheap formica.
This minor act of frugal genius required that I first remove nearly all of the 500 or so CDs on the shelving cabinet (I keep wanting to call it a bookshelf but of course there are no books on it, so that doesn’t seem quite apt). In the process, I discovered with little surprise that it had been some time since a few of these CDs had made it into my 12 year old Sony 5-Disc CD Changer. Lo and behold, that hmmm thing in my head goes off again. Maybe these CDs don’t need to be in here anymore. Maybe I really don’t need to own these CDs anymore. Maybe I can turn them into money. Then the realization hit. I can turn these into money (or at least new music) all I need to do is take them to my favorite independent record store and sell them.
But wait. Can I really do that? Do I have the courage? Do I have the confidence? Am I really that self-assured? Can I withstand the critical sneers of the records store guys (or girls) all of whom are even bigger music snobs than me? Is the economy so bad that I will dare this humiliation? In short, I guess so…’cause I did.
It was not an easy task. Selling your old CDs first requires admitting that you own them (and possibly even purchased them). This is the greatest hurdle. If you are only taking in 5 or 6 discs and the artists include Gwen Stefani, Pussycat Dolls, and Edwin McCain, you can always shrug at the counter and say, “Old girlfriend’s stuff” and get that knowing nod that you made the right decision about the break-up (even if it was you that got dumped). Unfortunately for me, that isn’t really possible when you intend to bring in something north of 50 discs and the titles range from pop to pop country to country punk to punk pop.
After the serious meditation that only a double session of yoga can provide, I steeled myself for the ordeal. Even as I left my house, I had to fight the compulsion to attach a post-it note to each disc explaining the purchase. For example, on the eponymous Phantom Planet disc it might read, “The ex really liked The O.C., and at least the Seth character had a DCFC poster on the wall in his room.” On the self-titled Sugar Ray album, the note might say, “At least they covered an old Steve Miller tune.” On Alabama’s American Pride disc, the note would say, “No, I didn’t buy it in the wake of a terrorist attack or because of the Richard Petty song. To be quite frank, I don’t even know how I got it.” Maybe the note on Lenny Kravitz’s Circus album would read, “C’mon the first two records were really great. I wasn’t the only one who was hoping for a return to legitimacy here.” The note on the Dirty Vegas disc would certainly read, “Thou shalt not read NME.”Anyway, he didn’t read the post-its. I got my trade-in credit. And I only used it on CDs that I read about in No Depression and Paste.
Thou Shalt Not Type LOL Unless You’re Really Laughing Out Loud
There aren’t that many shows that I would like to feature this week. Tuesday night’s Andrew Bird show at the Variety is sold out and by the looks of Craig’s List, more people want tix, than got ‘em. As an alternative, you can visit our friends at Smith’s Olde Bar Tuesday night (where there is always live music upstairs). If you’re up for a late night, from 10p to 3a you can get 1/2 price food, $2 PBRs, and $5 Whynatte bombs – just don’t get into a funneling contest unless you’ve got cab fare home.
The Coathangers will be at Starbar on Wednesday. They’ve got new vinyl coming out in April, allegedly titled Scramble, so there might be some new material on display this week.
Antony & the Johnsons will be at the Variety next Sunday night. This is not the sort of sound that I usually go for. It’s down tempo, vocal driven, a bit dramatic, and sort of ephemeral – is this contemporary goth? I really don’t know. It reminds me of the sort of quiet moody music that Bon Iver and The Fleet Foxes are making but darker, a little more electric and more European. The Variety’s website calls it cabaret (?), but whatever it is, I must confess that it is well executed. Expect more than one person to be dressed exclusively in black.
Thou Shalt Not Lose Focus
There’s still plenty on the horizon and some of the best events seem to be selling out even before I can get in. Here’s a quick list of shows that are still open but I expect will be closing out soon (or at least should be). Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit at The Earl on Feb. 18. Marah at SOB on February 24. Modest Mouse at the Tabernacle on March 7 (tix on sale Tuesday). Neko Case at the Variety Playhouse on April 2 (go to her website just to see the killer picture of her on the hood of what looks like a 1969 GTO – but the trim isn’t quite right). The Black Kids at The Loft on May 1. Death Cab for Cutie at the Fabulous Fox Theatre on May 6.
Thou Shalt Not Rush Home to Watch X-Factor
As I write, we are hours away (okay minutes now) from the biggest television event of the year (Go Steelers) and while television is not my first choice for entertainment (or much of anything for that matter) there will be some music at halftime. The Boss is not what he once was, but for my money that doesn’t diminish the triumph that is Born to Run. If you find the old Uncut Magazine feature article on the creation of this album (commemorating the 30th anniversary) and you will understand why it is so good.
While you have the t.v. on, you can set your tivo to catch Drive-By Truckers playing Austin City Limits on PBA 30 at midnight on Feb. 8 (which of course is Saturday night).
That’s the A-List for this week. Thank you to Dan le Sac vs. Scroobis Pip for the Commandments. Thou Shalt Not Use Poetry, Art or Music to get into a girl’s pants. Use it to get into their heads…
