Detroit Jr. - Call My Job / The Way I Feel

Preparing for this morning’s post, I was surprised to see yesterday’s post rack up 270 views. Let’s just say that’s an enormous jump from my usual numbers, and I’m a little perplexed. Normally, a doo-wop-ish 45 doesn’t exactly set the internet on fire.

So now I’m curious. Was it a happy accident? Did I stumble into something people want more of? Or were some of you wondering if you’d accidentally clicked on the wrong record collector? Reach out and let me know. If you enjoyed it, I can certainly dig deeper into that lane. If it wasn’t what you were expecting, I’d like to hear that too.

Today’s post has me thinking about something else entirely: taking a day off. A genuine day off. I’m planning to take at least one Friday off sometime in the next month. Maybe even two if I’m feeling particularly rebellious.

I’d love to hit the road and meet up with a record-collecting buddy in Florence, South Carolina. We’ve been talking about getting together for a while, but there’s one problem: I don’t really have anything significant to trade him at the moment. He’s looking for some Deon Jackson records, and I know I have a few duplicates somewhere. The challenge is that those duplicates are currently scattered across what can only be described as the known universe of record boxes.

Maybe this weekend I’ll gather all my Deon Jackson records into one place, see what duplicates turn up, and, naturally, record a few of them for a future Friday Soul Day. After all, every great record-collecting expedition starts with a simple plan and ends three hours later with boxes everywhere and absolutely no idea how you got there.

The Runarounds - The Nearest Thing To Heaven/Lover's Lane

I had exactly zero girl group 45s queued up and ready for airtime, so the next logical move was a doo-wop record devoted to girls and romance. Close enough for government work.

I picked this one up in Colorado Springs back in March. It appears to be a one-shot under this group's original name before they rebranded as the Echoes, managed some minor chart action, and escaped complete obscurity for at least a little while.

I've already got several months' worth of blog ideas rattling around in my head. My Colorado digging expedition was productive, but like every good record-hunting trip, it created a larger backlog than it solved with a mountain of unrecorded 45s. Somewhere in my boxes are a growing pile of 45s patiently waiting for their fifteen minutes of internet fame. My weekend assignment is to stop buying records long enough to actually record and write about some of them.

 

Orion The Hunter - So You Ran

I was always captivated by the guitar sounds and vocals from the band Boston. Those first two albums were absolutely massive with a capital M. By the time they finally returned with Third Stage, I was in college (the first time), and my musical tastes had wandered into punk and alternative territory. I bought the album anyway, of course, but it wasn't quite the same timing for me.

In the long wait between Boston albums, though, I found plenty to keep me occupied. Barry Goudreau's solo LP and Orion the Hunter completely grabbed me. Tom Scholz reportedly wasn't too happy about Barry's records being marketed with references to the "Boston sound," and Goudreau was eventually shown the door by Scholz.

But come on, Tom... they kind of did.

The guitars sounded familiar, Brad Delp was involved, and the whole thing carried that soaring, melodic DNA that made Boston great in the first place. Fran Cosmo, who sang on the Goudreau-related releases, would later end up in Boston anyway, which only made the family resemblance harder to deny.

Orion the Hunter's "So You Ran" climbed to #58 on the charts, and I distinctly remember hearing it on the radio for the first time. For a few seconds I honestly thought, "Wait... is this the new Boston single?" The vocals, the guitars, the overall feel... it was close enough to fool me. it was like hearing Boston through a slightly different telescope.

Looking back, maybe Tom Scholz had a point. But as a fan, it felt like Barry Goudreau was making records for Boston fans while Boston was busy not releasing Boston records, and those records felt less like imitators and more like bonus tracks from an alternate Boston universe. And honestly, that's probably why I loved them.

Jimmy Buffett - The Great Filling Station Holdup /Why Don't We Get Drunk

A nice brisk 55 degrees for our walk this morning. Perfect weather for me, Cooper, and anyone whose thermostat is permanently set to "October."

I was rooting around in the undocumented 45 boxes this weekend when I spotted a record and thought, "Well, this could be relevant." With gas prices always finding a way to sneak back into the conversation, I figured it might have something to say about wars, oil, or international chaos. Nope. Apparently the blame had already been reassigned elsewhere. Funny how that works.

One thing I've noticed over the years is that nobody in politics seems eager to accept responsibility for anything. Success is always theirs. Failure belongs to somebody else. If narcissism had a frequent flyer program, some folks would be lifetime platinum members.

And then there's the empathy problem. Regular people are standing at the pump wondering whether filling the tank now requires a small business loan, while the people making speeches seem remarkably insulated from the consequences. I genuinely hate politics because it often feels like the agenda doesn't include you or me, just whoever happens to be sitting at the UN-GROWN-UPS table this week.

Instead of elected officials holding each other accountable, they circle the wagons like an old western. Arrows flying, dust everywhere, and everybody pretending the situation is completely under control. A reporter asks a direct question. Out comes the carefully rehearsed party-line answer. All this while we are actually seeing in real time how things are "really going" and it's a completely different movie than the rehearsed answer. Would someone in the Government please grow a spine already.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are dealing with reality. High gas prices. Stories about people driving off without paying at the pump. Not exactly the "Great Filling Station Hold-Up," although Jimmy Buffett probably would have found a rhyme for it.

That brings us to the B-side, where questionable decision-making graduates from the gas station to the bar stool. Add alcohol, confidence, and a complete lack of foresight, and suddenly everyone becomes the star of a story that begins with, "You won't believe what happened last night..." and ends with somebody explaining things to a judge, a spouse, or both.

Sometimes I think those old 45s aren't collectibles at all. They're historical documents proving that people have been blaming the wrong things and making bad decisions long before social media gave them a bigger audience.

The X-Rays - Out of Control/Chinchilla

"Outttttaaaa Control... Outttttaaaa Control... didddda didddda dowah! The X-Rays are completely out of control on this short, sweet, and ridiculously infectious B-side. The A-Side Chinchilla... cha cha cha... comes wrapped in enough exotica swagger to make your living room feel like a 1960s tiki lounge.

This is the sort of platter that belongs spinning in a swinging bachelor pad while the martinis are cold and the conversation is questionable. Unfortunately, I'm fresh out of bachelor pad, martinis, and bachelor status. My better half would likely greet such ambitions with a well-aimed cast-iron skillet, and frankly, I value my health too much to test the theory.

Besides, keeping one woman happy is a full-time occupation. A side piece sounds like management-level work, and I'm barely qualified for my current position. Those arrangements seem better suited for suave playboys in glossy cocktail magazines than a fellow who spends his spare time chasing obscure 45s. And let's be honest, it would get Out of Control pretty quick once the side piece discovered the featured star of the A-Side song is a rodent. Nothing cools a romance faster than losing a popularity contest to a chinchilla. 

 
 

Spiritualights - He'll Make A Way/The World's Getting Farther Away From The Lord

I didn't think Super Cooper the Wonder Dog and I would get a walk today. Last night's forecast was calling for nearly a 100% chance of rain this morning, so I figured we'd be spending our Sunday staring out the window instead of wandering the neighborhood.

Then I woke up at 4:00 a.m., wide awake for no good reason other than apparently my internal clock had clocked in early. I checked the weather and suddenly the forecast had backed off to only a small chance of rain. I've learned over the years that sometimes you've got to seize the blessings when they appear, especially the unexpected ones.

So I started the coffee pot ahead of schedule, and by 4:30 a.m. Super Cooper and I were out the door. It was a little windy, but otherwise it was one of those perfect, quiet walks that remind you how much peace exists before most of the world wakes up.

Now I'm sitting here enjoying a fresh cup of New Mexico Piñon Coffee and watching the Sunday morning gospel lineup that helps get my soul pointed in the right direction: Dr. Merritt, Dr. Jeremiah, Amazing Facts, and Father Cedric Pisegna. There is something comforting about beginning the day with good coffee, good teaching, and a reminder that God is still on the throne despite what the headlines might suggest.

This morning's soundtrack is a gospel 45 that I don't even remember buying. That's one of the hazards of being a record collector. Sometimes I can tell you the exact place, date, and price of a record I purchased twenty years ago. Other times I'm digging through one of my many undocumented boxes and find something that makes me stop and ask, "How long have I had this?"

I always pick up gospel 45s when I find them. Sometimes, just based on the artist's name or label, it's about a 50-50 chance whether it turns out to be a Black Gospel record. In the case of this one, I had a good feeling about it because it was recorded at Mark Five Studios in Greenville, South Carolina. I've come across a few great records from that studio over the years to know that when I see that name, it's worth paying attention.

That's part of the joy of collecting. Every record is a little mystery waiting to be solved. Some are valuable. Some are rare. Some are neither. But every now and then one surprises you and becomes the perfect soundtrack for a Sunday morning.

These early Sunday mornings are becoming some of my favorite moments in life. Good coffee. A good spiritual word. A faithful dog by my side. And wonderful, obscure gospel 45s that have somehow waited decades to be heard again.

The older I get, the more I realize that happiness isn't usually hiding in the big moments. It's tucked away in these quiet hours before sunrise, when gratitude arrives unannounced and God's blessings sound remarkably like a scratchy gospel record spinning at 45 RPM.

The Tikis - Lost My Love Today/Bye Bye Bye

No fantastic stories today. It did get me wondering, though, how many of us have these little tales that are fascinating to us but land somewhere between "mildly amusing" and "please stop talking" for everyone else. I shared yesterday's adventure with my staff, and I'm pretty sure their collective takeaway was, "Well, that certainly explains a lot."

In fairness, the line between "great story to tell later" and "featured prominently in next year's Darwin Awards" is probably about the thickness of a human hair. Some people collect accomplishments. I apparently collect cautionary tales- and I have more than my fair share.

As for today's useless-but-vital music trivia: The Tikis first recorded this gem around the time of their debut Autumn 45 and for for reasons known only to record executives and possibly extraterrestrials named themselves as The Other Tikis. When it was finally released on Warner Brothers, they were back to being The Tikis. It promptly achieved absolutely no chart action whatsoever.

If you notice, the Warner Brothers stock copy has both songs listed as A-sides, while Autumn actually had the courage to pick a favorite and designate an A and B side. Apparently Warner Brothers subscribed to the "let the people decide" school of marketing, whereas Autumn preferred the more traditional "we'll decide for you" approach.

In a fascinating demonstration of record industry strategy, neither method produced even the slightest hint of chart success. So the verdict is in: whether the public chooses, or the record company chooses, absolutely nobody chooses if nobody's buying the record. Still, it's a fun little label variation. Warner Brothers basically looked at these tracks and said, "We're not taking sides here." The listening public responded, "That's okay, we're not taking either side."

Undaunted by a complete lack of commercial success, they changed their name yet again and eventually found sunshine-pop fame as Harpers Bizarre. So in the end, persistence paid off. Or maybe they just finally stopped changing their name every fifteen minutes.

Anyway, thank you for attending today's completely useless TED Talk. So say thank you for allowing me to replace whatever useful information was occupying a small corner of your brain. The information you've just absorbed has now displaced something far more important from your memory. If you suddenly can't remember where you left your car keys, wallet, reading glasses, or why you walked into the kitchen, I'm sorry, I can only apologize on behalf of The Tikis, The Other Tikis, and The Tikis again. But on the bright side, you now know the complicated naming history of a moderately obscure 1960s vocal group, which is obviously the more practical life skill.