My First Record: Patrick McHugh of Grubstake

By the time I was old enough to make informed decisions about what I was buying, vinyl records’ slutty-and-available 3rd cousin twice-removed, “The Cassette,” had taken over the consumer market.

When I was a younger child, the world was flooded with records, including some I’d now consider to be toys. I had a Fisher-Price record player, so it’s hard to say with any significance what my first actual purchase was, technically. It’s hard to nail down what the most important and earliest purchase is, but I would say it’s a tie between two early eye-openers (both of them were on tape). My gut says Double Bummer by Bongwater, but my head says the self-titled third release by Camper Van Beethoven.

I got the CVB album first, at one of the great ‘80s “underground record stores” in my neighborhood in Philadelphia: Repo Records. It was in a somewhat tiny 1.5 room bright-red-brick building behind the train tracks, and it naturally seemed like a portal into another dimension. As a younger kid, my brother and I would pick up LP’s like The Empire Strikes Back and The Great Muppet Caper soundtracks (me) or the Bee Gees Spirits Having Flown (my brother, older) at K-mart after church with our mom. Sometimes she would take us down to the Tower Records on South Street for fun. Repo, and other stores like it, was a whole other thing, a different kind of place. Anyway, sometime around late middle school I picked up this tape by Camper Van Beethoven to try something different from classic rock, and it was awesome. It’s not so clever that it gets away from making killer songs, but it’s pretty goddamned clever; a perfect mix of experimenting and kicking ass, including some hard-core folk licks. I didn’t know anything about them, but it was like music just for me that came from outer space. Oh yeah, and really funny. Whatever happened to funny?

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My First Record: Adam Newall from Super Prime

The summer of ’96 I traded ten dollars for my first skateboard, which was one of those blue plastic banana boards, about an inch and a half thick, and I’m pretty sure I got away with it because my folks didn’t even think I’d ride it.  I had to get the right kicks for ankle support of course, so I hit up Moms for the obligatory Vans.  Included with purchase, and hidden safely in the bottom of the box, sat the discus that would change it all for me.  Vans had started giving out compilation CD’s with their shoes that year that featured artists that were playing on the newly established Warped Tour, and I was a recipient.  So yea, I didn’t actually purchase my first record, but it was that one that led to the purchase of my first and many others.

Pops wouldn’t let me use the CD player yet, except for locking me in that room with treats like Zevon’s ‘Excitable Boy’ and Steely Dan’s ‘Aja’ and telling me not to come out until I listened to the whole thing.  I’m still quite fond of these memories, which made for an extra eclectic musical taste in the long run, but the songs lacked that which a teenage miscreant could sufficiently vent to.  I’m pretty sure the CD players of the time still cost several grand, and Pops was just itchin’ to bust me listening on his prized Sony (especially to a CD with the newly legislated ‘parental advisory’ notice), so I had to use my leveled sneak skill to learn all I needed to know about real rock.

The opening track was Goldfinger’s ‘Anxiety,’ exactly what the coming-of-age, marginally disturbed ne’er-do-weller needed to find meaning behind their ‘useless’ existence and at the same time learn how to let go.  From there it continued in most righteous fashion, with Red 5’s ‘Space’ and Dancehall Crashers’ ‘Queen For a Day,’ both ditties rocked by more than capable female-fronted pop-punk groups; however, the most exquisite morsel featured on the compilation, in my opinion, was the combo breaker ‘Paddle Out/Wrong Way’ by Sublime.

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