Chandells - We Are The Ones/Little Girl, Pretty Girl

I picked up this Colorado 45 a few months ago via mail order, because nothing says “I’m living my best life” like buying obscure 45s sight‑unseen from strangers. I grew up about 30 miles from Pueblo, though at the time I treated it like a mysterious land beyond the horizon — the Narnia of southern Colorado, except instead of talking animals you get steel mills and green chile.

I didn’t spend much time there until my first year of college at The University of Southern Colorado (now Colorado State University Pueblo). And let me tell you, nothing makes you feel like a fossilized relic quite like applying to grad school at East Carolina University in 2010 and calling USC for your transcripts, only to hear: “Oh, those are in the archives… we’ll have to find them.” THE ARCHIVES. As if my academic records were ancient scrolls stored in a climate‑controlled vault guarded by a guy named Harold who hasn’t blinked since 1987. I half expected them to say, “We’ll need a team of archaeologists and possibly a priest.”

Back in March, I wrote about picking up 400 45s when I visited my mom — that guy lived in Pueblo too. I can only imagine the records his grandfather had that were already sold. Probably a treasure trove of stuff that would make collectors weep softly into their Discogs want lists.

Anyway, the only Pueblo 45 I remember ever finding in the dense wild was a copy of The Trolls (which I posted last year), and it was so beat up and warped it looked like it had survived a small house fire and then been used as a coaster. I sold it years ago and then found the PS and it took me 20+ years to find another copy. This 45 doesn’t have the raw power of The Trolls, but it’s got that charming Teen wannabe Garage vibe — like the band couldn’t decide whether they wanted to jingle jangle rock out or sit cross‑legged with acoustic guitars and talk about feelings. According to the Cogs of Discs, only 500 were pressed, and Norman Petty handled the Hammond and production. It’s not an expensive record, but it is a neat little artifact from the only 45 this group ever put out.

As for today: it’s the day I pick up my lawnmower, freshly resurrected from the brink of death like some suburban Lazarus. Then I get to mow the jungle formerly known as my yard. After that, it’s recording time — I’ve got some 12" singles, maybe a few LP cuts, and of course the 7" platters that are stacked everywhere like vinyl Jenga. Nothing like being your own boss… …until your significant other (the real boss) hands you the chore list with the kind of authority that makes HR departments tremble.