Father's Day Records

Or, Occasional LPs from my daughters and for anyone

If you ever happen to travel to Greer, SC, be sure to plunge on in to “Plunder” an antique store that has cool furniture, some pretty sweet vintage stuffed animals, and…

A VINYL RECORD BOOTH.

My two daughters long ago gave up choosing presents for me and now simply let me crate dive for my own presents. I try to be judicious about my choices and not overwhelm their sensibilities or bank accounts. I think it’s so sweet—and almost worth crying over—watching them choose which LPs they will individually purchase for me. The younger hands a Joan Jett record to the older, because the older’s baby daughter likes to rock out to “Bad Reputation” and “Do You Wanna Touch Me?” The older hands that Merle record I chose to the younger because nothing says Father’s Day like your own baby daughter buying you Merle Haggard!

But for this Father’s Day edition of Crate Diving in Modern America, I want to feature two Plunder albums my kids bought me and then move on over to three other finds that, uh, I bought for myself to honor myself and all the fathers who made me whatever I am today.

My own Dad wouldn’t have understood my purchases so much, though he was the one who first told me about a steel guitar!

So, off we go:

My younger daughter decided that she wanted to be the holder of this first purchase, America’s debut album ($10), featuring “I Need You,” Sandman,” and this modest hit:

The album (Warner Bros 2576) was released in 1971, when I was fifteen, and I once had a copy that I—extreme sighing—gave away, sold, or let slide out of my bedroom window somehow. That the song above was an AM hit; that singer/writer Dewey Bunnell had a Neil Young vibe: all of that comes back so clearly, though I didn’t remember that “Horse” is actually track #5 on Side One, and not the leadoff as I thought. Memory misremembers long after knowing forgets.

The entire record pleases me more today than then, and it also helps me continue rounding out my 60’s/70’s Country rock collection.

Next, my older daughter, knowing that I aspire to own a complete and mainly original Loretta Lynn LP collection, bought a copy of Blue Kentucky Girl (Decca/DL-74665 1965) for me. Cost? A cool $8. On this record, she covers Johnny Cash’s “I Still Miss Someone” and her own collaboration with Teddy Wilburn on “Love’s Been Here and Gone” really stands out for me. The immortal Owen Bradley produced, and I still can’t believe this gem was sitting in a bin, waiting just for my daughters and me.

They bought me a few others by Linda Ronstadt and Marshall Tucker but now, I have to keep moving into a shameful territory:

A land where I spent a lot on myself to get what I have been wanting lo these many weeks.

First, I wandered into Greenvlle’s Horizon Records on Wednesday, and what was staring at me in the New/used bin but…

That, of course, is Gram Parsons singing his version of Glaser and Howard’s “Streets of Baltimore,” from his LP GP (Reprise MS 2123 1973). Now, anyone can get a brand new copy of this one for about $35, but NOT everyone can purchase a vintage copy from ‘73 for $25. I don’t know who all would do so, but many passed this one up—surely they did cause it was sitting right at the front. Maybe people don’t know or care about Parsons as I thought/think they should. Reading Ben Fong-Torres’ Hickory Wind helped me. It’s such a beautiful record, with James Burton on dobro and Al Perkins on pedal steel.

Also beautiful is the debut album by former Buffalo Springfield members Jim Messina and Richie Furay: Poco’s Pickin’ Up the Pieces (Epic BN-26460 1969). Two weeks ago, I mentioned to the owners of two other record stores that I was searching for this rainbow, and they smiled and said, “Yeah, that’s a good one.” But neither had a copy or knew of one around. So they should have checked, as I did, Mr. K’s Used Books, where a guy/gal whose initial are inside the gatefold—oh please, who are you JL?—let this original pressing go. I paid $10 American for it. On the edge of a steal, for sure, especially for this very Country turn featuring the title cut and another fave, “Calico Lady”. Banjos, dobros, and pedal steel again from Rusty Young.

Now, for this last one: maybe I shouldn’t have indulged myself to such an extent, but when you see a copy of The Flying Burrito Brothers’ The Gilded Palace of Sin (A&M SP-4175 1970), what should you do, or rather, what’s the upper limit of what you’d pay for it?

This one also came from the vault of “J.L.” who must have died or else why part with such a treasure? I don’t want to say how much I paid, cause I haven’t looked it up and simply want to believe that I did well, or if I didn’t then I can still be happy as a music lover and father. And here’s a cut from this one:

Gram and Chris Ethridge in those Nudie suits are worth it all, or at least it’s what I’m thinking this Father’s Day.

Happy one to you all.