Musical travelog
I guess I missed my 40th anniversary of moving away from L.A. For some reason, I thought it was in April, but it turns out I left home for new horizons on March 18, 1983. And irony of ironies, where was I on March 18, 2023? In L.A.! For eye appointments, and for general R&R. As before, I stayed with my lifelong friend, Richard, who I grew up with in Covina and have now known for 63 years.
This was actually my closest thing to a vacation since I went to Reno back in 2019. When I flew to L.A. 3x for my original eye work in 2021, everything was still locked down tighter than a drum, so I couldn't do anything resembling fun. But this trip, life was basically back to normal, and I was free to go out adventuring in my spare time.
And it just so happened that on that precise day of my 40th anniversary last month, I was doing what I loved most when I was young: making a tour of all the best used record stores in the L.A. area. Collecting records was a true passion of mine in my 20s, and I hadn't done any serious vinyl hunting in all the past 40 years, so I was making up for lost time in a big way!
Unfortunately (though not unexpectedly), none of the stores I used to visit were still there. One was still in business, but it had moved to another location 20 years before, and its newer incarnation was very much not the same. So these places were basically all new to me.
However, before I start my musical travelog, let me describe my old record-shopping route. I almost always went in the evening after work, and the circuit was just shy of a hundred miles, generally taking about 3 hours. Leaving Covina, my first stop was Poo-Bah Record Shop in Pasadena, then out to Moby Disc in the Valley (first on Victory Blvd. in Van Nuys, later in Sherman Oaks), over Sepulveda Pass to Music Odyssey on Wilshire in Santa Monica, Rhino Records on Westwood in Westwood, then home. (A trip to buy an import at Tower in West Hollywood was typically a dedicated drive, as I was hunting used records during my night trips, not new ones.)
I'd done a little research online ahead of time to figure out which stores to visit on my tour, and came up with this list:
• Record Surplus in Santa Monica (closest to where I was staying, and on Music Odyssey's old home turf)
• Freakbeat Records, Sherman Oaks (just blocks from Moby Disc's 1980s location)
• Atomic Records in Burbank (a bit east of Moby's 1970s store)
• Poo-Bah Record Shop (still in Pasadena and same owner as 40 years ago)
• Amoeba Music in Hollywood (today's cognate of Tower Records, I suppose)
My (approximate) route that day. Click image to enlarge. (I actually took Sunset Blvd. to Amoeba from the 110, but I couldn't get Google Maps to draw it.)
I was particularly interested in visiting Amoeba, as it's practically legendary among modern-day record collectors. Although in business in L.A. since 1993, I'd never been before, though I can't say why, other than I just never got around to going. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So I set out on the 18th and got to Record Surplus just as they opened. Unfortunately, it was basically a waste of time. Nothing even remotely desirable. Asked a couple guys on staff if they knew whatever happened to Music Odyssey, and no one had even heard of it. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, as I was talking about a store 45 years in the past. The oldest guy at Music Surplus was probably still only in grade school at the time Music Odyssey was in business. My, how time doth fly.
Freakbeat is on Ventura Blvd., which for 3 months in 1973 was my 'main street'. (I shared an apartment with my trip host, Richard, just off Ventura on Kester in Sherman Oaks while we took physics in summer school at UCLA.) Not a lot had changed on Ventura Blvd. in a half century (at least in terms of buildings), and traffic was as slow as ever. Interestingly, at least for me, Freakbeat turned out to be directly across the street from an animation art gallery I'd bought a few things from a long time ago. It's a small world, after all.
Freakbeat Records, 13616 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks.
I knew Freakbeat was going to be good as soon as I walked in the door. Not only was the layout spacious and orderly, they were playing some extremely shitty music on their PA, which I've ironically found is a very reliable indicator that you've found a great used record store. ^_^
I had two things in particular that I was looking for: a first US pressing of In the Court of the Crimson King by King Crimson, and a first US pressing of Sticky Fingers by the Rolling Stones. And just in general, I was looking to find records that I'd sold in the past and subsequently regretted parting with. No Crimson King at Freakbeat, but in the Stones section, I found LIVEr Than You'll Ever Be: a bootleg that I (stupidly) sold about a dozen years ago. Released in 1969, 'LIVEr' is among the first Rolling Stones boots, and one of the best. I gasped audibly when I saw it! The sleeve was in pretty bad shape - it had lettering on it from a previous owner - but the disc itself was better than my old one, so I'd found my first big score of the trip.
The store owner looked to be about my age, and he was clearly pleased at how pleased I was to find LIVEr. I told him about having bought the record at Rasputin Records in Berkeley in '78, and he smiled when I observed that the copy I'd found at his store was on the original label, too. I think he appreciated talking to someone old school who was knowledgeable about such trivia. He'd made my day, and I made his. Honestly, if I didn't find anything else worthwhile that day, this alone would have been sufficient.
Next stop was Atomic. I had high hopes for this place, based on what I'd seen on their website. In person, though, it wasn't so great. Unlike Freakbeat, Atomic was cramped, crowded, and claustrophobic. They did have two copies of the King Crimson album, but neither was in acceptable condition. I did find a Bambi soundtrack that I'd never seen in person before that was in super nice shape, so I got that, but that was it as far as Atomic was concerned. I'm not sure I'd go back there. Not only was the location kind of out of the way, it seemed to be more oriented to jazz than the genres of music that interest me. Not to mention the pricing. They were asking so much for so many things, I got the feeling they were more interested in keeping their records than actually selling them. (Some places really are like that.)
Atomic Records, 3812 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank.
Onto Pasadena and more familiar territory. This leg of the trip was the most trouble and also took a lot more time that I anticipated. There was an issue with the car I was driving, which necessitated a visit to a tire store, and the congested traffic on the 134 and 210 reminded me of one of the main reasons I left L.A. 40 years ago in the first place.
Poo-Bah had the most picked-over inventory of all. I was just about to give up - browsing the W-Z Misc section for possible Who finds - when I stumbled upon what would turn out to be my biggest score of the day: a near-mint copy of Wigwam's Tombstone Valentine (1970) on the US Verve Forecast label. Again, I gasped audibly! The 53-year-old record was so new that it looked like it fell out of a time machine. What was even more amazing is that I'd bought the same album from Poo-Bah about 45 years ago, but this copy was in way better condition than the one I used to have. I was so jazzed that out of all the dross in that store, I'd found the one diamond-in-the-rough that seemed to've been waiting just for me.
Poo-Bah Record Shop, 2636 E. Colorado Blvd., Pasadena.
From there I headed back west, taking mostly surface streets to Amoeba in Hollywood. This was where I anticipated finding the most good stuff. My only truly remarkable find, though, turned out to be a parking space on Hollywood Blvd. directly in front of the store!
Amoeba Music, 6200 Hollywood Blvd. Can barely see it, but that's my white car parked right by the door. ^_^
I was amazed when I walked into the place, though not for the reasons I imagined: the crowd in there was unbelievable! For sure there were more than 100 people in the store when I first walked in. I hadn't been in a mob like that indoors in almost 4 years, and I'd never seen that many people inside a record store, period. It put even old Tower Records to shame in terms of shoppers. I've never been a fan of crowds, though, so this was a little daunting, but I wasn't about to chicken out now. So I dove headlong into the thick of things.
Took this when I was leaving. There were almost double this number of people when I first arrived!
My main complaint with Amoeba was that they actually had very few used records. It was mostly new releases in the bins, and I'm not interested in those at all. If I hadn't eventually found the 'New Arrivals' used bin in front, I probably would have left empty-handed. But again I found a diamond-in-the-rough: a second copy of 'LIVEr Than You'll Ever Be', this one with the original stamped cover. Two copies of this rare bootleg in one day? What were the odds?
I wish I could have spent more time looking around in Amoeba, but the crowd was really getting to me, and since it was after 5 at this point, I thought it best to just go home. There was still one record shop I wanted to check out while in L.A. - Rockaway Records up by Silver Lake - but that place is by appointment only, so it would have to wait for the following Wednesday, the 22nd.
I actually visited Rockaway a couple times 40 years ago when they were just a startup, operating out of a warehouse in Westwood. They weren't really open to the general public yet, but they allowed me the privilege of browsing the few bins they had set aside for sale. Now they have one of the best specialty record shops anywhere. A genuine small business success story.
Rockaway Records, 2395 Glendale Blvd., Los Angeles.
Because it's by appointment only, Rockaway turned out to be the best shopping experience of all. I basically had the whole place to myself. It was great not having to slalom around other customers and have them breathe down my neck the whole time like at the other places. They had an awesome selection of rarities, too, but I already had most of the things I found, and I'm not so rich that I can afford to buy a second copy of something just because it has a poster I lost or has a slightly nicer sleeve. So even though I built a stack of about 10 albums while I browsed, I put them all back except one. Left spending only $20, which was 10x less than I'd budgeted for the place. One thing I knew for sure: if I still lived in the area, Rockaway is one store I would want to visit at least once a week. Freakbeat, too.
As I left Rockaway, I told the sales clerk that, because I live so far away and in such a rural place (not to mention my age), this might be the last record store I ever visit. He smiled and said I hope not, and you're welcome back here anytime. If that really was the last time I go record hunting, though, it was the best note for me to end on by far!
The two true treasures acquired on my vinyl hunt!
This was actually my closest thing to a vacation since I went to Reno back in 2019. When I flew to L.A. 3x for my original eye work in 2021, everything was still locked down tighter than a drum, so I couldn't do anything resembling fun. But this trip, life was basically back to normal, and I was free to go out adventuring in my spare time.
And it just so happened that on that precise day of my 40th anniversary last month, I was doing what I loved most when I was young: making a tour of all the best used record stores in the L.A. area. Collecting records was a true passion of mine in my 20s, and I hadn't done any serious vinyl hunting in all the past 40 years, so I was making up for lost time in a big way!
Unfortunately (though not unexpectedly), none of the stores I used to visit were still there. One was still in business, but it had moved to another location 20 years before, and its newer incarnation was very much not the same. So these places were basically all new to me.
However, before I start my musical travelog, let me describe my old record-shopping route. I almost always went in the evening after work, and the circuit was just shy of a hundred miles, generally taking about 3 hours. Leaving Covina, my first stop was Poo-Bah Record Shop in Pasadena, then out to Moby Disc in the Valley (first on Victory Blvd. in Van Nuys, later in Sherman Oaks), over Sepulveda Pass to Music Odyssey on Wilshire in Santa Monica, Rhino Records on Westwood in Westwood, then home. (A trip to buy an import at Tower in West Hollywood was typically a dedicated drive, as I was hunting used records during my night trips, not new ones.)
I'd done a little research online ahead of time to figure out which stores to visit on my tour, and came up with this list:
• Record Surplus in Santa Monica (closest to where I was staying, and on Music Odyssey's old home turf)
• Freakbeat Records, Sherman Oaks (just blocks from Moby Disc's 1980s location)
• Atomic Records in Burbank (a bit east of Moby's 1970s store)
• Poo-Bah Record Shop (still in Pasadena and same owner as 40 years ago)
• Amoeba Music in Hollywood (today's cognate of Tower Records, I suppose)
My (approximate) route that day. Click image to enlarge. (I actually took Sunset Blvd. to Amoeba from the 110, but I couldn't get Google Maps to draw it.)
I was particularly interested in visiting Amoeba, as it's practically legendary among modern-day record collectors. Although in business in L.A. since 1993, I'd never been before, though I can't say why, other than I just never got around to going. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
So I set out on the 18th and got to Record Surplus just as they opened. Unfortunately, it was basically a waste of time. Nothing even remotely desirable. Asked a couple guys on staff if they knew whatever happened to Music Odyssey, and no one had even heard of it. I guess I shouldn't have been surprised, as I was talking about a store 45 years in the past. The oldest guy at Music Surplus was probably still only in grade school at the time Music Odyssey was in business. My, how time doth fly.
Freakbeat is on Ventura Blvd., which for 3 months in 1973 was my 'main street'. (I shared an apartment with my trip host, Richard, just off Ventura on Kester in Sherman Oaks while we took physics in summer school at UCLA.) Not a lot had changed on Ventura Blvd. in a half century (at least in terms of buildings), and traffic was as slow as ever. Interestingly, at least for me, Freakbeat turned out to be directly across the street from an animation art gallery I'd bought a few things from a long time ago. It's a small world, after all.
Freakbeat Records, 13616 Ventura Blvd., Sherman Oaks.
I knew Freakbeat was going to be good as soon as I walked in the door. Not only was the layout spacious and orderly, they were playing some extremely shitty music on their PA, which I've ironically found is a very reliable indicator that you've found a great used record store. ^_^
I had two things in particular that I was looking for: a first US pressing of In the Court of the Crimson King by King Crimson, and a first US pressing of Sticky Fingers by the Rolling Stones. And just in general, I was looking to find records that I'd sold in the past and subsequently regretted parting with. No Crimson King at Freakbeat, but in the Stones section, I found LIVEr Than You'll Ever Be: a bootleg that I (stupidly) sold about a dozen years ago. Released in 1969, 'LIVEr' is among the first Rolling Stones boots, and one of the best. I gasped audibly when I saw it! The sleeve was in pretty bad shape - it had lettering on it from a previous owner - but the disc itself was better than my old one, so I'd found my first big score of the trip.
The store owner looked to be about my age, and he was clearly pleased at how pleased I was to find LIVEr. I told him about having bought the record at Rasputin Records in Berkeley in '78, and he smiled when I observed that the copy I'd found at his store was on the original label, too. I think he appreciated talking to someone old school who was knowledgeable about such trivia. He'd made my day, and I made his. Honestly, if I didn't find anything else worthwhile that day, this alone would have been sufficient.
Next stop was Atomic. I had high hopes for this place, based on what I'd seen on their website. In person, though, it wasn't so great. Unlike Freakbeat, Atomic was cramped, crowded, and claustrophobic. They did have two copies of the King Crimson album, but neither was in acceptable condition. I did find a Bambi soundtrack that I'd never seen in person before that was in super nice shape, so I got that, but that was it as far as Atomic was concerned. I'm not sure I'd go back there. Not only was the location kind of out of the way, it seemed to be more oriented to jazz than the genres of music that interest me. Not to mention the pricing. They were asking so much for so many things, I got the feeling they were more interested in keeping their records than actually selling them. (Some places really are like that.)
Atomic Records, 3812 W. Magnolia Blvd., Burbank.
Onto Pasadena and more familiar territory. This leg of the trip was the most trouble and also took a lot more time that I anticipated. There was an issue with the car I was driving, which necessitated a visit to a tire store, and the congested traffic on the 134 and 210 reminded me of one of the main reasons I left L.A. 40 years ago in the first place.
Poo-Bah had the most picked-over inventory of all. I was just about to give up - browsing the W-Z Misc section for possible Who finds - when I stumbled upon what would turn out to be my biggest score of the day: a near-mint copy of Wigwam's Tombstone Valentine (1970) on the US Verve Forecast label. Again, I gasped audibly! The 53-year-old record was so new that it looked like it fell out of a time machine. What was even more amazing is that I'd bought the same album from Poo-Bah about 45 years ago, but this copy was in way better condition than the one I used to have. I was so jazzed that out of all the dross in that store, I'd found the one diamond-in-the-rough that seemed to've been waiting just for me.
Poo-Bah Record Shop, 2636 E. Colorado Blvd., Pasadena.
From there I headed back west, taking mostly surface streets to Amoeba in Hollywood. This was where I anticipated finding the most good stuff. My only truly remarkable find, though, turned out to be a parking space on Hollywood Blvd. directly in front of the store!
Amoeba Music, 6200 Hollywood Blvd. Can barely see it, but that's my white car parked right by the door. ^_^
I was amazed when I walked into the place, though not for the reasons I imagined: the crowd in there was unbelievable! For sure there were more than 100 people in the store when I first walked in. I hadn't been in a mob like that indoors in almost 4 years, and I'd never seen that many people inside a record store, period. It put even old Tower Records to shame in terms of shoppers. I've never been a fan of crowds, though, so this was a little daunting, but I wasn't about to chicken out now. So I dove headlong into the thick of things.
Took this when I was leaving. There were almost double this number of people when I first arrived!
My main complaint with Amoeba was that they actually had very few used records. It was mostly new releases in the bins, and I'm not interested in those at all. If I hadn't eventually found the 'New Arrivals' used bin in front, I probably would have left empty-handed. But again I found a diamond-in-the-rough: a second copy of 'LIVEr Than You'll Ever Be', this one with the original stamped cover. Two copies of this rare bootleg in one day? What were the odds?
I wish I could have spent more time looking around in Amoeba, but the crowd was really getting to me, and since it was after 5 at this point, I thought it best to just go home. There was still one record shop I wanted to check out while in L.A. - Rockaway Records up by Silver Lake - but that place is by appointment only, so it would have to wait for the following Wednesday, the 22nd.
I actually visited Rockaway a couple times 40 years ago when they were just a startup, operating out of a warehouse in Westwood. They weren't really open to the general public yet, but they allowed me the privilege of browsing the few bins they had set aside for sale. Now they have one of the best specialty record shops anywhere. A genuine small business success story.
Rockaway Records, 2395 Glendale Blvd., Los Angeles.
Because it's by appointment only, Rockaway turned out to be the best shopping experience of all. I basically had the whole place to myself. It was great not having to slalom around other customers and have them breathe down my neck the whole time like at the other places. They had an awesome selection of rarities, too, but I already had most of the things I found, and I'm not so rich that I can afford to buy a second copy of something just because it has a poster I lost or has a slightly nicer sleeve. So even though I built a stack of about 10 albums while I browsed, I put them all back except one. Left spending only $20, which was 10x less than I'd budgeted for the place. One thing I knew for sure: if I still lived in the area, Rockaway is one store I would want to visit at least once a week. Freakbeat, too.
As I left Rockaway, I told the sales clerk that, because I live so far away and in such a rural place (not to mention my age), this might be the last record store I ever visit. He smiled and said I hope not, and you're welcome back here anytime. If that really was the last time I go record hunting, though, it was the best note for me to end on by far!
The two true treasures acquired on my vinyl hunt!