You'll Shoot Your Pie Out
...there are days that I just select a musical path and I run with it for a good length of the day. As noted yesterday, I have been a a major Fugazi kick for the past few months. Today, after another round of DC's finest, I got the sudden urge to hear Bad Religion for the first time in ages. I was aware that they had released a new album this past year since my brother has been wanting to buy it for some unknown reason. I figured that curiosity would draw me in and, if the album was bad, I could always whet my appetite with some Against The Grain.
Though CD's were in full bloom when I first got into Bad Religion, I was still buying cassettes for no discernible reason. I was at an age where I had a hand-me-down CD player at my disposal and was a few years from being able to drive so buying for the car wasn't really a reason. Even before hearing Bad Religion, I was tempted on a few occasions to buy one of their cassettes. While contemplating this post, I was reminded of how I once nearly mistook Bad English for the aforementioned punk rock band.
All of this brought back memories of the ridiculous lengths I used to go to for plastic cassettes that eventually were traded in to a used record store or lost in several moves. The earliest incident I can recall was in 7th grade. I had my brother in tow with barely enough cash to cover the price of Anthrax's then-new album State Of Euphoria.
It was probably October and it was an exceptionally windy Sunday afternoon. I had a GT frame that I fitted with two bike tires that did not come close to matching. I spent an entire weekend day removing the brakes from this bike so I could have "free wheel". It was the closest I had ever come to owning a cool bike until I was 35.
Scott & I rode against the wind from our house on 61st Street west to Cicero and then north to Archer Avenue to the Zayre that has long since disappeared into the ether. For some reason, I was debating whether or not to buy Anthrax or (I think) the new Blue Oyster Cult album Imaginos. If I didn't have the entire amount covered, I might have wielded sympathy by being a weird 7th grader in sweatpants and a grade school letter jacket. After a long ride home with the cassette and my brother following behind me, what I remember next was finally getting home and being initially disappointed that the songs weren't as fast as Among The Living.
Right before we left the city for the south suburbs, I had to make one last journey to what seemed like the greatest record store ever concocted Kruzin' Music. Now, Kruzin' brings back a flood of great memories of my youth and getting into punk and metal, but it was probably just a decent shop at best. After skateboarding down Pulaski about two-and-a-half miles, my friend and I took the Archer bus to California. We had to maximize our bus pass because they only had two transfers so had to save the last one for the ride home.
After skating for what felt like hours and waiting even longer for the CTA to finally arrive, we walked into Kruzin' Music. Having only leftover paper route money on hand, I was likely armed with about $10. But it felt like $1,000 to me. The way I saw it, $10 would land me any of the then-greatest metal albums on the fucking planet. So, what did I score on my final bus trip to heavy metal Nirvana? Surf Nicaragua by Sacred Reich. Not even a full album. That said, it felt like the trip was a major success.
When we finally settled in the far south suburbs, I had a plethora of trepidation. One of my chief concerns was where I was going to buy my punk rock and metal cassettes now. For a kid who never really ventured this far south, I imagined the suburbs to be an ocean of parachute pants, rich kids and terrible music. In a way, I was wrong. In another, I was spot on. But lest we not forget that I was the kid in sweatpants so...
As it turns out, Red Tower was not the worst record store ever. In fact, it would have enough for a while to tide me over until I learned of Record Swap in Homewood. Once I got into collecting vinyl in high school, Red Tower was not worth the glance. But when it came to finding Cannibal Corpse or Testament, Red Tower was nearby.
In October of 1990, the new Slayer album Seasons In The Abyss was coming out. I had the date memorized for months once I saw it on the board at Red Tower that past summer. The Tuesday finally arrived and it was pouring rain the entire day. I sat in class after class that day staring out the window wanting school to fucking end because I just had to have that fucking album and...
School finally let out at the normal time and I had one goal - Slayer. Had to have it now. I had exact change to make the buy and as my luck would have it, my parents were both gone. I waited for months and lack of vehicle, a monsoon or a stampede of rhinos would do nothing to keep me from getting the new Slayer album.
I borrowed my neighbor's mother's 10-speed and I was off. I took the puddle-ridden dirt path through the park, down several side streets on both sides of 159th Street and held my walkman and loose funds with one hand while steering with the other. When I finally arrived, they were unboxing both the new Slayer and the new Testament album. My initial thought was disappointment that I could not afford both.
I bought the cassette, went into the foyer and turned on the walkman. In the rain-drenched ride home, I had my first experience with Dead Skin Mask, War Ensemble and Born Of Fire. When I finally made it home, I listened to Seasons In The Abyss over and again. My final verdict? I liked it, but it wasn't as fast as Reign In Blood.
The lengths I went to in acquiring these albums and others seems ludicrous to any sane person, then or now. Back then, most people would have waited for a sibling or parent to take them or gotten a copy from a friend. Today, you can download the Slayer discography onto your phone. Even I don't really have the drive for new music these days to ride a woman's 10-speed bicycle in a monsoon. However, I don't have any "walked uphill to school barefoot through 10 feet of snow" stories to tell my nephews of how we neanderthals slugged it out just to get by. I just have my "rode a junkyard GT BMX bike with no brakes 8 miles round trip to get the new Anthrax album and then complained about it" stories to tell them when they get old enough to make fun of me.
Read: Manifest Destiny by Chris Dingess
Listen: Red Fang Murder The Mountains
Watch: Seinfeld
Though CD's were in full bloom when I first got into Bad Religion, I was still buying cassettes for no discernible reason. I was at an age where I had a hand-me-down CD player at my disposal and was a few years from being able to drive so buying for the car wasn't really a reason. Even before hearing Bad Religion, I was tempted on a few occasions to buy one of their cassettes. While contemplating this post, I was reminded of how I once nearly mistook Bad English for the aforementioned punk rock band.
All of this brought back memories of the ridiculous lengths I used to go to for plastic cassettes that eventually were traded in to a used record store or lost in several moves. The earliest incident I can recall was in 7th grade. I had my brother in tow with barely enough cash to cover the price of Anthrax's then-new album State Of Euphoria.
It was probably October and it was an exceptionally windy Sunday afternoon. I had a GT frame that I fitted with two bike tires that did not come close to matching. I spent an entire weekend day removing the brakes from this bike so I could have "free wheel". It was the closest I had ever come to owning a cool bike until I was 35.
Scott & I rode against the wind from our house on 61st Street west to Cicero and then north to Archer Avenue to the Zayre that has long since disappeared into the ether. For some reason, I was debating whether or not to buy Anthrax or (I think) the new Blue Oyster Cult album Imaginos. If I didn't have the entire amount covered, I might have wielded sympathy by being a weird 7th grader in sweatpants and a grade school letter jacket. After a long ride home with the cassette and my brother following behind me, what I remember next was finally getting home and being initially disappointed that the songs weren't as fast as Among The Living.
Right before we left the city for the south suburbs, I had to make one last journey to what seemed like the greatest record store ever concocted Kruzin' Music. Now, Kruzin' brings back a flood of great memories of my youth and getting into punk and metal, but it was probably just a decent shop at best. After skateboarding down Pulaski about two-and-a-half miles, my friend and I took the Archer bus to California. We had to maximize our bus pass because they only had two transfers so had to save the last one for the ride home.
After skating for what felt like hours and waiting even longer for the CTA to finally arrive, we walked into Kruzin' Music. Having only leftover paper route money on hand, I was likely armed with about $10. But it felt like $1,000 to me. The way I saw it, $10 would land me any of the then-greatest metal albums on the fucking planet. So, what did I score on my final bus trip to heavy metal Nirvana? Surf Nicaragua by Sacred Reich. Not even a full album. That said, it felt like the trip was a major success.
When we finally settled in the far south suburbs, I had a plethora of trepidation. One of my chief concerns was where I was going to buy my punk rock and metal cassettes now. For a kid who never really ventured this far south, I imagined the suburbs to be an ocean of parachute pants, rich kids and terrible music. In a way, I was wrong. In another, I was spot on. But lest we not forget that I was the kid in sweatpants so...
As it turns out, Red Tower was not the worst record store ever. In fact, it would have enough for a while to tide me over until I learned of Record Swap in Homewood. Once I got into collecting vinyl in high school, Red Tower was not worth the glance. But when it came to finding Cannibal Corpse or Testament, Red Tower was nearby.
In October of 1990, the new Slayer album Seasons In The Abyss was coming out. I had the date memorized for months once I saw it on the board at Red Tower that past summer. The Tuesday finally arrived and it was pouring rain the entire day. I sat in class after class that day staring out the window wanting school to fucking end because I just had to have that fucking album and...
School finally let out at the normal time and I had one goal - Slayer. Had to have it now. I had exact change to make the buy and as my luck would have it, my parents were both gone. I waited for months and lack of vehicle, a monsoon or a stampede of rhinos would do nothing to keep me from getting the new Slayer album.
I borrowed my neighbor's mother's 10-speed and I was off. I took the puddle-ridden dirt path through the park, down several side streets on both sides of 159th Street and held my walkman and loose funds with one hand while steering with the other. When I finally arrived, they were unboxing both the new Slayer and the new Testament album. My initial thought was disappointment that I could not afford both.
I bought the cassette, went into the foyer and turned on the walkman. In the rain-drenched ride home, I had my first experience with Dead Skin Mask, War Ensemble and Born Of Fire. When I finally made it home, I listened to Seasons In The Abyss over and again. My final verdict? I liked it, but it wasn't as fast as Reign In Blood.
The lengths I went to in acquiring these albums and others seems ludicrous to any sane person, then or now. Back then, most people would have waited for a sibling or parent to take them or gotten a copy from a friend. Today, you can download the Slayer discography onto your phone. Even I don't really have the drive for new music these days to ride a woman's 10-speed bicycle in a monsoon. However, I don't have any "walked uphill to school barefoot through 10 feet of snow" stories to tell my nephews of how we neanderthals slugged it out just to get by. I just have my "rode a junkyard GT BMX bike with no brakes 8 miles round trip to get the new Anthrax album and then complained about it" stories to tell them when they get old enough to make fun of me.
Read: Manifest Destiny by Chris Dingess
Listen: Red Fang Murder The Mountains
Watch: Seinfeld
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