Record Industry Suicide
Out of context: Reply #10
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- TheBlueOne0
I always wanted to work at a record store. Not so much anymore.
Nice story, TheBlueOne.
Jaline
(Nov 1 07, 05:40)Hahaha..no, you really didn't want to work at a record store...strange people inhabited them. One cat I worked with was a total non-gay Broadway buff. Dude would smoke a pipe, walk up behind people, give them back massages and say things like "I have Ethel Merman in a Steven Soundheim production that never got past previews from 1976...wanna listen?" Total freak. He was banned from calling into any NYC broadway radio shows because he always knew more than the hosts. He got christmas cards from Andrew Lloyd Weber though, so that was neat. And on top of it the store was owned by Ripley's (of believe it or not's fame) nephew who said he raised the cash to open the store in '69 by doing a drug run to Mexico. His brother would bring in all sorts of Ripley's memorabilia like lampshades made of human skin. It was a trip. And we had famous clientele - Matt Dillon and his bros used to shop there all the time, and the guy that owned Island records and the guy who managed New Kids or one of those boy bands...and I used the place as a late night "Where the fuck am I gonna have sex with this skank?" place....
Ah...good times...and I have about 100 retail promotional posters from record labels from back then probably worth a grand or so...
See, you kids with your fancy mp3s and ipods are missing out the real fun that was at the lower level of the music industry...all gone...