Losing It, by Belle and Sebastian.
This song gets stuck in my head whenever I listen to Tigermilk, but the whole album is so darn catchy that the whole thing is in my ears just from looking at the cover today.
I’ve been cataloging my record collection, really for the first time in any serious way, using Discogs, and it’s been a fun and weird experience. Sure, I mean, yes, I bought some of these 25 years ago, or nearly that many, and so given the resulting supply and demand, blah blah blah, carry the one, and some of these records are worth real money! Might’ve needed to catch my breath after the price for this album showed up in the app, but I don’t have the original pressing, but the reissue is still worth something meaningful.
The thing is, stuff from the 1970s (or older) when records were the primary vehicle for music consumption? Not rare. Rarely rare. There were plenty of copies of Let It Be around, and they’re not worth anything.
But Pavement albums that I bought on vinyl when they were released? Ooh. Aah. And that one GBV record that turned out to be everyone’s favorite, but I got the white vinyl version (1 of 300 made?!?!?) for $7.98 at Etherea on Ave. A? Ooooooh. Aaaaaaahhhhhh.
Etherea is long gone, but on one of my passes through my old NYC neighborhood in recent years, I found it had been replaced by a lovely and well-lit bookstore, where I purchased what I hope was a meaningful gift for a colleague. Today I also had the nice surprise of finding an Adult Crash price tag on an indie rock record, looking it up, and realizing that they were the record store in the Etherea place before they took over.
It’s also neat to find Other Music price tags and know there’s a whole documentary about that store, and also to relive some travels to Amoeba in Berkeley, Bow Wow in Albuquerque, etc. There’s probably a Princeton Records find in here somewhere.