As I haven’t made a single $16.99 Big Music Ripoff purchase in a while, this past weekend I went into Harvard Square to buy some used CD’s as they are a much, much cheaper way to keep the habit going. I only hit 2 stores, so as not to completely torture the patient, non-music addicted girlfriend. As she looked on, I ran through both stores A-Z. I thought I was being good by not going through the bins under the table, but she was patiently done 20 minutes before I finished.

One thing that I forgot about used record stores. No, no. Two, two things I forgot…ah ah ah. First, the places reek of humanity. Second, those stinky folks like to talk about the stupidest shit ever to anyone who’ll listen. It’s a comedy. A smelly comedy.

While trying not to make eye contact with the polo shirted a-hole describing how embarrassing it was when he outed his co-worker at the board meeting for liking heavy metal like Led Zeppelin,I gave the counter guy my CD’s to not only ring in, but judge. Like I did to the polo shirt a-hole, Counter guy was supposed to do to me (LZ is not metal). See, this is what counter guys at small record stores do. They stand around generally acting superior, ringing in and throwing aside your crappy pop CD’s and scowling, unless you can buy something hip. But if you buy something that they like, it’s worse than being silently judged. If Counter Guy likes your purchase, he’s going to throw every piece of knowledge on the subject that he can at you. And you, dumbfounded, will listen, and enjoy his stink.

So which is worse, being judged, or having to listen. You decide.

But, counter guy looked at my CD’s and looked at me confused. Then he looked at the owner type guy who came over. “Uh, you don’t usually see a mixed bag like this. Heavy Metal with jazz? What is Su-per-joint Ritual?” I just looked at him and wondered if owning a record store was his primary vocation.

So, I bought:

• Superjoint Ritual Use Once and Destroy (metal): Not a bad album from Pantera’s Phil Anselmo. It’s no Pantera, but what can you expect. B
• Pantera Reinventing the Steel (metal): I have no words. B+
• Miles Davis ‘Round About Midnight (jazz): When people think jazz, Miles Davis will come instantly to mind. For me, I never think of Miles. I generally do not like Miles, because my first exposure to him was in that later ‘fusion’ period. I hate fusion jazz. Let me rephrase: I have yet to find a piece of fusion jazz that I can listen to. Lately, I have begun to delve into the Miles that I never knew existed: the ’50s classic jazz Miles. I still don’t see what all the fuss is about, but this album is decent. B.
• Zwan Mary Star of the Sea (rock): Some good tracks, some bad tracks. An average background album. Listen. I needed to buy something for the ride home that the GF could stand, too. C+
• Mr Bungle California (mess): Mr Bungle was a side project of Faith No More front man Mike Patton. One of my High School friends loved Mr. Bungle back in the day, and made me listen to it. At the time, I thought it was probably the biggest bunch of crap that I’ve ever listened to. The only song that I could remember was “It;s not funny (my ass is on fire).” Maybe I’ve changed, but this album is almost jazz without jazz. It’s definitely difficult to listen to. It’s definitely art. It reminds me of the way songs randomly switch styles on the Sgt. Pepper album, but much, much crazier. Lots and lots of circus organs to pump up the crazy. B.
• Herbie Hancock My point of View (jazz): My first and only exposure to Hancock was that crappy 80’s breakdance song “Rockit.” I had no idea that he was a big jazz guy for the longest time. The memories of breakdancing have generally put the brakes on buying albums by Herbie until recently. I think it’s his second Blue Note release, and even the liner notes say that the first album was better. Like The Empire Strikes back (eeeeeee that’s episode siiiiiiiix…WHAP! Shut up, Dork.) or Rocky 2, this is a pretty good sequel, but it’s still a sequel. C+

After that, we grabbed a coffee and sat by the Charles. We had the sunshine, a full hour on the meter, and a whole bench to ourselves.

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