Yesterday was my first experience of Record Store Day, for one reason or another – and I sincerely hope it won't be my last. It isn't often that I get up at 4:45am on a Saturday morning, so it felt like I was going on holiday to start with. In reality I was actually arising to join the throng assembled outside Rough Trade East. Into the queue at just after half six, chatting to fellow punters, having a reality check about how unlikely a Bowie purchase was – but on the other hand secretly hoping my own wants list, headed by Van Dyke Parks, would yield some results.
My chances weren't helped by the fact Rough Trade had the artwork on prominent display in their window – and there were only 250 copies nationwide! "You're safe there mate!" was the common consensus in the queue though, but as anyone with such a specific shopping list knows, it is possible to inflate your own imagination so that everyone ahead of you in the queue wants what you do as well!
The cold deepened as the clock on Spitalfields church ticked round towards 8, and the conversation lagged. The sun was shining but there was a cold breeze taking the edge off any warmth, applying itself straight to my feet. Texts confirming wives and friends of our group were reading the news in bed with coffee weren't helping either. The queue moved gradually once 8 arrived though, and the guys at the front were in.
Half an hour later we were at the door, held amicably outside by security, but at this point an incredibly helpful member of the Rough Trade staff set the tone for the day by asking if there was anything I was after. On learning my request he went to the racks of vinyl, producing said Van Dyke Parks release! Bullseye. And then we were in.
No Bowie of course, not the valuable older 7" releases at any rate, but to my surprise there were still plenty of copies of Pink Floyd's See Emily Play, and a number of the Moby and Mark Lanegan duet The Lonely Night. British Sea Power's Facts Are Right was still there, as was Nick Cave's Animal X, an unreleased track originally intended for the Push The Sky Away album. Also on the 7" desk, unexpectedly, was a duet between Sébastien Tellier and Caroline Polachek, In The Crew Of Tea Time limited to only 250 copies.
That was one of the big appeals of Record Store Day, discovering releases that you didn't realise were happening alongside the big hitters. Other than the Bowie the only other thing I didn't get was a CD, King Creosote's That Might Well Be It, Darling, but the Rough Trade staff again excelled themselves by combing the store and declaring it was a US only release. The only real down side was that even as we drank strong coffee near the entrance, chuffed with what we'd got, the Bowie singles were already up to £20 in auctions on EBay. Bastards.
Still, that was a relatively minor gripe, for it was well worth getting up early for Record Store Day – and all being well I'll make the same pilgrimage next year, maybe to Berwick Street, which by all accounts resembled a carnival throughout Saturday. Oh, and I brought a cassette of Discover America to bolster my Van Dyke Parks collection still further. Opening it, his business card fell out – with his real e-mail address on it. Thank you Rough Trade, and Van Dyke? I'll be in touch tomorrow about that unlikely collaboration.
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