So you decided not to back out, and you want to start a record collection of your own, or you have a small one and you want to make it bigger–like, you-have-to-hire-movers-next-time bigger. No way do you need this; it’s something you have to want.
To to that extent I can offer up the following advice:
- You have to love music to make this work. You will become obsessive about it in due time, should you choose to follow this course of action, so at least be obsessed with something that you love.
- If you are unlucky enough to be afflicted with OCD, this is a Grand Canyon-esque expanse for you to throw your anxieties into. A man, a plan, a canal; Panama. People built that canal. This is your canal.
- If for some lame reason you are jumping in to become a record dealer because you see recent singles going for three bills on eBay, you really are going to have to love the music you’re flipping enough to know what you’re trying to get into and get rid of. This is not some “get rich quick” scheme by any measure. No one person could impart you with that much information in a way you could understand it, either, so don’t try hopping on somebody else’s coattails to know what you need to know. Nobody’s that lonely, and record collectors are generally more suspicious than the average person.
Listening to music has always been a big concern in my own life. As a little boy I had a Fisher-Price turntable and a rack full of records I could ruin all on my own, scored from garage sales and the cut-out bin at the local Peaches. I moved onto cassette tapes and then CDs in a trajectory that led from Duran Duran and Thriller to the Beastie Boys and Ozzy solo. This in turn put me right in the frame for “YO! MTV Raps” in the butter years, then down that evergreen path that many an early ’90s pre-teen followed: Violent Femmes into Dead Milkmen, then the Chili Peppers and Nirvana, then Ministry, then Sonic Youth and Dinosaur Jr. and Mudhoney. Pretty soon I discovered college radio and filled in a lot of the gaps; a few years later I was at a college radio station, doing a radio show and listening to everything that came out that looked interesting, and going to see bands several night a week. Every time I turned around, there was something new to check out. That’d be enough for most people, but I got involved with running a label and promoting shows on my own on top of that. I guess somewhere inside I have this driving need to program the air around me with music, to show how I’m feeling at that particular moment, and to get the people around me to understand and celebrate (or commiserate, as it were).
It’s with that life experience that the last important thing you need to take in before starting a record collection is to share. Be pleasant, be enthusiastic, and share (I don’t mean give away your records–though if and when the time comes to do that, you’ll know. You do have to share, however–information, stories, advice, scores, goodwill. I’m not suggesting that you offer it when it’s not asked for; I’m merely saying that this is going to be a pretty lonely and unfulfilling time if you can’t reach out to other people and talk about it. Nobody wants to hang out with the guy from the cover of the Warrant album, greedily hoarding four bins of new arrivals. Don’t be that person. There’s enough of 98% of the records out there for everybody who wants one to own it. Share, and be cool with sharing. Unless you’re confronted with a manipulative sociopath, you will find that sharing represents one of the only ways to get by.
OK. So you like a particular kind of music? Go out and buy records. Repeat as often as necessary.
HA!
Next installment I will provide you with some more wisdom about etiquette, digging, and a handful of other chestnuts.
(Missed somthing? Read Part 1)