Scores From The Sleepy Poet

Crate Diving in Modern America

One of my favorite antique malls is Charlotte’s The Sleepy Poet, found in the sprawl of South Blvd. If you go, especially if you’re looking for vinyl, plan on spending at least two hours browsing the stalls. That is, if you don’t go into the records only section, or stop at the strange little coffee bar located in the mall’s inner recesses.

I was looking only for vinyl this past Thursday, and though a couple of Zenith radios—one AM only—tempted me, those “sold as is” stickers disrupted my desires and so I stuck to looking through countless stacks of mainly well-cared for records. I do caution anyone searching that some stalls are clearly just stacking vinyl like they stack old National Geographics: randomly, carelessly. Other stalls actually have their wares sectioned into distinct categories/genres, but even then, please look at the vinyl carefully as even if you find that rare copy of The Moody Blues’ A Question of Balance, the scratches will leave more questions than ever are answers.

I was really disappointed in one booth that had hundreds of albums. Each one I picked out was suitable for those collecting covers only. And I haven’t reached that point of obsession. There was a Rolling Stones compilation that I would have bought, but $20 for a scratched up copy of hits just is a no. Too bad.

Earlier in the week, though, at my local Cabin Floor Records, I did find Got Live If You Want It! (London PS 493, 1966) for $20. It’s in remarkable shape, and though the pace is too quick for me, still, listening to the lads work through “The Last Time” and “Not Fade Away” thrills me. I’ve been on a Stones kick lately, and if I knew why exactly, I’d say so.

Back to The Sleepy Poet. I promised myself that the next time I saw a vintage Julie London LP, I’d buy it in honor of my Dad, who would be 98 this coming April, had he made it that far. He died in 2000, and loved Julie London. He never said, but I’m sure he found her voice, her face, and other features as seductive as virtually any woman he could name. So, staring me in the face at a stall way in back was Julie…At Home [Imagine!] on the Liberty label (LRP 3152, 1960). Julie sings “Sentimental Journey,” “You’d Be So Nice To Come Home To,” and “The Thrill Is Gone,” among others. Dad, I paid $15 for this one, and I’m sure you’re shaking your head at my liberal purse strings.

But if that is the case, what would you imagine had you known that I’m the kind of guy who’ll also pay $32.99 for a 2nd Issue of The Jefferson Airplane’s first album, Takes Off (RCA Victor LPM-3584, 1966)? This is a mono version, considered rare, but who knows? This is also, of course, pre-Grace Slick, and so Paul and Marty, Jorma and Jack, Skip Spence and Signe Toly Anderson do take off on “It’s No Secret,” “Blues From An Airplane,” and weirdly, “Let’s Get Together” and “Tobacco Road.” I saw copies, too, of After Bathing At Baxter’s, but I decided to wait on that one. Having a few regrets now, but no regrets passing up the countless “Starship” records I saw. Also, if you’re into collecting Barbra Streisand albums, you can score her entire oeuvre, LIVE, if you want it at The Sleepy Poet.

My other recent obsession is The Animals, so lo and behold, there was a copy of The Animals On Tour (MGM E-4281, 1965) for a ridiculous $24.99. By ridiculous, I don’t know who is or isn’t here, but I do know that I’ve come to cherish this band. On the record in question, they do “Boom Boom,” “Mess Around,” “She Said Yeah,” and nine others that do sound good to come home to—in perfect shape. I am so happy, and this was all I saw of the band and I have to wonder who gives these things up?

And who gives up—other than the estate of the deceased—an original first pressing of Rubber Soul? The original American version on Capitol (ST-2442, 1965), that is, and if you look on the inner label, you see that each band member’s name is there instead of the collective “The Beatles.” The vinyl is in VG+ condition, the cover less so. I paid $35 for this record, which was originally owned by one Jay Smith, or at least that’s what the scripted name on the back cover tells me. Have I told you lately that my Dad loved “Michelle?”

And finally, a much forgotten Brit, Marianne Faithfull, gets the last dig it this week. Her debut, eponymous album on London ( PS-423, 1965) features “As Tears Go By,” “I’m A Loser,” “In My Time of Sorrow,” “Come and Stay With me,” and eight others. I got it for $6, though I almost de-selected it when I thought my budget was being stretched too thin. Six dollars, though, and had I left it alone, I’d simply wonder about myself again and again. She was really beautiful, too, and the record is as clean as they come.

So, that’s the haul, and I did also buy my daughter, Layla, a clean copy of Layla and Other Assorted Love Songs, which no home of a soon-to-be-married couple should be without.

Hope your finds are worthy of Julie and Marianne, too.