This is going well!
@slaw: Yep, I remember A.B. Skhy, though I’ve never heard them. From the very-early 70’s, right? Wonder what the name means? I remember seeing their name around the Bay Area back then.
I also remember seeing the debut Dust album, which I also never heard. Did you know their drummer was later in The Ramones? Marky!
@jrw1871: I was a customer of Tom Port way back in the early/mid-90’s. He lived above a small pizza joint near the corner of Ventura and Van Nuys Blvd. in Sherman Oaks, two blocks from my house. He did business out of his apartment, which I visited to buy a copy of the German pressing of Magical Mystery Tour (it is in true stereo, unlike the US and UK LP’s of the time). His apartment was pretty stuffed with LP’s, and his system at the time surprised me: decidedly mid-fi. I had a Townshend Rock table and Decca Cartridge, and Quad ESL’s powered by Atma-Sphere OTL’s.
I too end up with LP’s bought at one record store, later used as trading material at another, sometimes making money in the process ;-) .
@fuzztone: The saddest thing I ever experienced (well, aside from the death of my Mother when I was 15) was seeing Brian Wilson live on the tour for his first solo album. His singing was not only awful (as was his piano playing; they had the sound of it going only to his monitor, not the house sound system), but as he spoke between songs, the depth of his brain damage became apparent. Very, very sad. I have deliberately avoided ever again seeing him live.
I went to the album release event for his debut album at Tower on Sunset Blvd. I brought not just my copy of the album for him to sign, but also my copy of the "Caroline, No" 7" 45 RPM single. Though on The Beach Boys Pet Sounds album, the song was released as a Brian Wilson single, the BB name appearing nowhere. Odd! Anyway, I handed him the 45, and the deepest look of wistfulness enveloped his eyes as they perused the label. It was heartbreaking, I having to hold back my tears.
Years later I saw him in Tower Records, and this time his eyes were filled with paranoia. He was obviously scared to death. I’m surprise they let him walk around alone.
My first live Rock ’n’ Roll show was The Beach Boys at The San Jose Civic Auditorium in the Summer of ’64. I passed on using my ticket to see The Beatles at The Cow Palace that Summer, still not completely sold on them. My Mother used my ticket, and went herself. She was pretty hip, having Johnny Cashes Ring Of Fire LP, which I listened to a lot on our Magnavox console.
In the Summer of ’75, having spent a year recording demos with a great songwriter, he and I made a pilgrimage from San Jose to Brian’s house in Bel-Air. We brought a reel-to-reel copy of the recordings, intending to interest him into producing an album (we at the time did not know about his mental/emotional condition). I pressed the buzzer located on the wall next to the wrought iron gate, and Marilyn answered, asking "Who is it?" That I had not anticipated, and replied "Is Brian home?" She said "Yes he is. Who is it?" I explained who we were, and the reason for our visit, and she instructed me to lay the tape against the gate.
Having reluctantly done that, Kent and I walked up the driveway of the house next door, until we were positioned so as to be able to see into the dining room of Brian’s "house" (an old Spanish-style mansion, really). The thin drapes were drawn, but we could see a large, hulking figure sitting in a high-backed chair at the table. It was obviously Brian. I don’t know what we were expecting to see, but Brian sat in chair, not moving an inch in the half-hour we stood there. Thank God the neighbor didn’t see and call the Bel-Air security team!
