(editor’s note; It’s become clear here at the Pencil Storm offices that JCE’s Record Stories provided a spark to our writers that isn’t going away soon. Ricki C. chimed in with his intention to pen one before the piece even ran and we have this one hand from Jim Hutter, so we’ve decided to make it a regular, ongoing series. Anybody else out there who would like to sound off about one of our favorite collective obsessions, write it down and send it in.)

As the Twenty-First Century enters it’s third decade, record stores are a very trendy item. A generation raised on cassette tapes or compact discs suddenly discovered the merits of the 33 1/3 rpm vinyl disc, as if LP albums were a new thing. Small shops selling these 12-inch lacquers do brisk business of moving both old pressings and new virgin vinyl at a premium.  Funny, I was frequenting these businesses as a grade schooler, nearly fifty years ago.

I can thank my older brother, John, for igniting my interest in popular music. He experienced the greats of the 1960’s the first time around. He did everything to spread the love to his younger brother. It all began during the winter of 1973. John had just landed his first full-time job out of high school. Having a little extra cash, he decided to replace his battered Beatles albums. Not having the heart to throw them away, he gave them to me. I quickly became hooked and soon frequented various establishments to satisfy my musical fix.

BUCKEYE MART

Buckeye Mart was a discount house with stores all over Ohio. In addition to cheap clothing, toys, and household items, Buckeye Mart had a decent record department. They could be trusted to stock the latest Top 40 singles and albums along with many popular artists’ back catalogs. They also had a fantastic selection of cut-outs, discounted albums that labels had deleted from their inventory due to poor sales. 

It was Buckeye Mart where I picked up my very first new record. It was Elton John’s 1973 hit “Crocodile Rock.” Even as a schoolboy, I loved 1950’s-styled Rock ‘n’ Roll and Elton delivered in droves with his nod to the Doo-Wop era. It would not be the last time I found satisfying music at this store.  I also picked up one or two off-the-charts singles by The Who for 39 cents, or 3 for a dollar. A real bargain. The best I ever had.

LAZARUS DOWNTOWN

Columbusites of a certain age remember when Lazarus was “the big cheese” of local retailers. Going to the big downtown store was a major family event, with everyone dressing up and minding their manners. Virtually everything a family could want was sold at Lazarus, and that included musical vinyl.

At the start of the 1970’s, Lazarus’ record department was located on the second floor. Although it did not take up a lot of floor space, the selection was amazing, with music of all styles in wire racks lining up the walls. One could also find a free four-page publication sponsored by WNCI called “Record Rap.” By mid-decade, the section moved to the sixth floor with much more square footage for an even bigger selection. It was here, the day after Thanksgiving of 1976, that I bought my very first new record album, “Hey Jude” by The Beatles. I also conned my mom and brother into buying me many other records at this Columbus institution.

PEARL ALLEY DISCS

I felt blessed to have a 19-year-old brother who was fanatical about Rock music. Some time during the spring of 1973, he and I hopped a bus to visit the record stores on The Ohio State University campus. I felt incredibly grown up to be allowed to visit these shops, frequented by friendly young hippies. With various types of incense in the air, I became aware of iconic musicians like The Byrds and Bob Dylan. Once in a while, I would con my brother into buying me an album, usually something Beatles-related.

MUSIC GROTTO

At the southeast corner of East Woodruff Avenue and North High Street sat a store called Music Grotto. It was like a less extreme version of Pearl Alley Discs, with less incense and facial hair. What I remember most about the Grotto was their selection of cutouts. I managed to pick up several of the original Decca label albums by The Who for a mere $1.97 each. By 1975, Music Grotto was gone for good, but certainly not forgotten.

DISCOUNT RECORDS

Perhaps the most “normal” music retailer on The Ohio State University campus was Discount Records. Although they stocked a broad and deep selection of Rock, Soul, and Jazz, their specialty was Classical. You were equally likely to have your purchase rung up by a young hippie-wannabe as you were a bespectacled and bow tie-wearing professor type. Though my purchases were mostly Pop and Rock, it could be exhilarating to hear a Beethoven or Wagner symphony blasting through the store stereo system.

My most fond memory of Discount Records was a July 4, 1973, visit with my brother.  He purchased the John Entwistle solo album “Smash Your Head Against the Wall” and I obtained “The Beatles 1962-1966.” Having the house to ourselves because our parents were out-of-town visiting friends, we ended up having a living room listening party on the family Stereo Grande, complete with hamburgers, fries, and Cokes from Borden Burger.

ZEBRA RECORDS

At the southeast corner of East Thirteenth Avenue and North High Street sits an unusual split-level retail storefront, built some time in the mid-1970’s. The basement was occupied by Steve’s Ice Cream while the top floor was Zebra Records. Their advertising gimmick was a life-sized fiberglass statue of a zebra outside of the front door. This was around the time I was in seventh grade. My parents gave me $1.00 a day for lunch money and I was allowed to keep the change, which went into a coffee can in my bedroom. It was Zebra Records where I used that savings to buy my first British imports: Parlophone pressings of The Beatles’ “Revolver” and “Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts’ Club Band.” I also recall using funds from my job at the Mohawk snack bar to buy a few London-label Rolling Stones albums.

SCHOOLKIDS RECORDS

By my teens, I was hungry for music beyond The Beatles.  I discovered much at a small basement shop owned by Curtis Schieber, Schoolkids Records. In addition to finding cutouts of Buddy Holly collections and a Sha Na Na live album, I began my discovery of Punk and New Wave at this location. Being the type of collector who tried to keep the original shrink wrap intact to protect the cover, any album that I own with the price written in black permanent marker was bought at Schoolkids.

SINGIN’ DOG RECORDS

By high school, I was full-tilt Punk and New Wave. I no longer bothered with K-Mart or Gold Circle to buy records. They were too mainstream. I went for the good stuff at the original Singin’ Dog Records on North High Street between Chittenden and East Eleventh Avenues. There, I met a very hip and helpful store clerk named Angelo Palma. I admit that I was initially afraid of Angelo. As a slightly older guy with a Johnny Thunders hairstyle, he looked like he could kick my teenaged ass. I wonder what he thought of this skinny kid with an ever-changing hairstyle who bought The Clash and The Jam rather than R.E.O. Speedwagon or Styx?

BESS ELZEY’S GARAGE SALE

I had to save the best for last. My next-door neighbor was Bess Elzey, an eighty-something widow who was always incredibly kind to me. One rainy morning in the spring of 1973, her extended family used the old brick stable behind her house for a garage sale. My parents gave me a couple of dollars and encouraged me to pay a visit. As I perused a stack or record albums being sold by her young adult grandchildren, I spied copies of “Paul Revere and the Raiders Greatest Hits” and “Led Zeppelin III.” Encouraged by my brother, I bought both for a mere buck. These were the first record albums that I purchased with my own money.  

Somehow, it seems fitting that I purchased something by America’s premier 1960’s garage band in, of all places, a garage! Little did I realize that Garage Rock would become one of my favorite sub-genres, leading me to one day perform alongside one of Columbus’ most famous garage rockers, Mr. Barry Hayden of The Dantes.

THE REST

Honorable mention goes to Magnolia Thunderpussy, The Record Connection, Buzzard’s Nest, Woolworth, Rink’s, and the music department at Gold Circle.  Almost as well-stocked as Buckeye Mart or Lazarus, Gold Circle was where I found “Portuguese import” copies of the early Ramones albums, circa 1984. They were actually counterfeits, but don’t tell anybody. For $2.99 each, they were an incredible bargain for this miserable college kid seeking sonic bomb blasts of happiness.