The shop is temporarily closed due to a long-awaited vacation
BUT WE WILL BE BACK!
Probably in early July ...
You all know how heavy 78s are, so you don't need your imagination to understand our complete and utter exhaustion after countless months of scouting new supplies, schlepping them to the warehouse, grading, cataloging, and shelving them.
Granted, the toil is leavened by the joy of a sale, and the knowledge that a once forgotten orphan, an unrecognized gem, is finding a new home, to be loved and cherished, to be played, and dare we say, bragged over?
Every time we take a parcel to the Post Office, it is with the knowledge that we are in reality casting magic spells out into the world, sending little time capsules of a time gone by, a few moments of transcendent art created decades ago, and often by artists whom most of the world has forgotten or passed by.
Except, that is, by someone like you, an erudite aficionado who not only understands the attraction of a Roy Hogsed, a Marty Robbins, a Moon Mullican, a Cab Calloway, a Johnny Dodds, a Jelly Roll Morton, a Louise Ferrara, a Roy Milton, a Todd Rhodes, a Lonnie Donegan or a Josh White. And we won't even start talking about pew-burning Gospel, hillbilly church music, 1920s dance bands, or those almost undefinable records that came out in the first couple of decades of the twentieth century. Or mambo. Or soundalikes.
So we are temporarily closing the shop while we tour the vast reaches of the USA, checking out the old and almost forgotten places way off the interstates, the dusty back roads, the glorious National Parks, and all those little bits in between, those bits that Greil Marcus so aptly termed 'old weird America'.
the shop is temporarily closed due to a long awaited vacation
But we will be back!
PROBABLY IN EARLY JULY ...
You all know how heavy 78s are, so you don't need your imagination to understand our complete and utter exhaustion after countless months of scouting new supplies, schlepping them to the warehouse, grading, cataloging, and shelving them. Granted, the toil is leavened by the joy of a sale, and the knowledge that a once forgotten orphan, an unrecognized gem, is finding a new home, to be loved and cherished, to be played, and dare we say, bragged over?
Every time we take a parcel to the Post Office, it is with the knowledge that we are in reality casting magic spells out into the world, sending little time capsules of a time gone by, a few moments of transcendent art created decades ago, and often by artists whom most of the world has forgotten or passed by.
Except, that is, by someone like you, an erudite aficionado who not only understands the attraction of a Roy Hogsed, a Marty Robbins, a Moon Mullican, a Cab Calloway, a Johnny Dodds, a Jelly Roll Morton, a Louise Ferrara, a Roy Milton, a Todd Rhodes, a Lonnie Donegan or a Josh White. And we won't even start talking about pew-burning Gospel, hillbilly church music, 1920s dance bands, or those almost undefinable records that came out in the first couple of decades of the twentieth century. Or mambo. Or soundalikes.
So we are temporarily closing the shop while we tour the vast reaches of the USA, checking out the old and almost forgotten places way off the interstates, the dusty back roads, the glorious National Parks, and all those little bits in between, those bits that Greil Marcus so aptly termed 'old weird America'.
Welcome to 78 Crazy, an online flea market for old records, musings on old friends, odd happenings, aging jeeps, vintage record players, and anything else that might come to my attention someday.
