i got these records from somewhere

     Eventually I stopped buying my records at Cooks & Gibsons. I think the former actually went out of business before I was well into my teens. At that point most of my music was purchased at Sound Warehouse or Rainbow Records. There was a place in Norman called Shadowplay Records that I was lucky enough to visit a few times. It was probably the coolest store in Oklahoma and it's niche was dark, underground fare like The Cure, The Fall, Joy Division, that sort of thing. It may have only been my first visit but vividly recall buying my first Joy Division album there. It was the two record "Still", complete with JD button embedded into the thick paper stock of the record's cover. I was very curious to hear Joy Division, having read an incredible review of "Still" in Creem magazine. It used all kinds of metaphors to tie together the music and sounds of the album with the tragedy of Ian Curtis' suicide and my morbid disposition could not resist. It only took a couple of listens before I was firmly entrenched in the contingent of hardcore Joy Division fans.
     The first rock and roll album I ever "owned" was "Try Too Hard" by the Dave Clark Five and it was given to me by my mother. I have no idea why she got that particular one but I liked it. I couldn't have been seven or eight years old. I place the word "owned" within quotation marks because at that young age stuff like that was basically communal property shared between my brother and I. It's just that I was the one who staked the biggest claim to it. 
     We had received a few other albums from mom prior to that first rock one. There was a compilation of country hits performed by other artists. I don't where she came up with that one because I doubt it was legal for companies to release hit songs recorded by people that didn't write or perform the original. I don't guess it mattered to me at the time. In fact I KNOW it didn't because I had no idea what the songs were or who had done them before. There were a couple of songs that I liked. "Detroit City" was good and there was a version of Johnny Rivers' version of Chuck Berry's "Memphis, TN." A strange thing I remember is how my brother and I used to pretend we were the twin brothers whose parents were friends of my folks. We would write their names on the album cover like we were really them claiming ownership or something. It was like I would write "Jerry" and he would write "Jackie" or something. Which seems really weird right now but I think it was just a matter of never having known actual twins. The novelty of their identical appearances and similar names was likely fascinating to us and we expressed that by playing this game of pretend.
     I bought too many records at Sound Warehouse to count. But the think I enjoyed most about visits to that store was the loitering/browsing. Sometimes my friends and I would drive all the way to Oklahoma City to the big Sound Warehouse on May Avenue, sift through row after row of records, reading liner notes, admiring artwork and song titles, sometimes alphabetizing them when some inconsiderate customer had placed one out of order...We did all these things but one thing we didn't do was buy them. We'd spend a couple of hours in there and when we left we'd pick up a free copy of the Oklahoma Gazette and make like that's what we came for in the first place. Then we'd drive back home. We were such music geeks we thought that was a great way to kill an afternoon.
     My copy of Genesis' "The Lamb Lies Down of Broadway" was purchased at a little Family Dollar/Dollar General type store called Benjamin Franklin. I never had a clue what the name meant or what it might signify. Their record selection was pretty weak, too, just about the same size as Drury's. But by the time I spotted "The Lamb" I was already a huge fan of Genesis so I had to have it. Such a great record. 
     A few of my records were from the Columbia House Record Club. You don't see those anymore, they're relics of the past. It was the sort of deal where you'd get to pick 10 or 12 albums or 8-Track tapes for a dime (plus shipping and handling) and all you had to do was buy seven or eight albums at regular price over the next two years. Regular price meant "higher than you're gonna pay in a record store". Then they'd send you  the "Selection of the Month" and a catalog to order from if you so choose. You had like 10 days to return your Selection of the Month" or you'd get charged for it, whether you wanted/liked the album or not. It was a real pain in the ass to send back records so usually I wound up not bothering. Which meant I basically got my initial 12 records, three or four selections of the month and then a few months later a bill from a collection agency. I know, that's pretty low. My cousins had warned  me about record clubs. To hear them talk you'd thing it was like selling your soul to the devil. Low as it undeniably was, I pulled the same trick at least a couple more times not long afterwards (using different names and such).
     I did get a few good records out the selections of the month. I thought Boston's "Don't Look Back" was very good and probably well worth the money they expected me to pay for it. But the real winner was when I got Bruce Springsteen's "Darkness on the Edge of Town". A record that probably changed my life or at the very least helped me pull through a difficult time. I never would have bought it on my own. I'd heard a little about Springsteen but I was into punk and new wave at the time, that stuff definitely wasn't for me. But when you get a free album in the mail chances are you're gonna listen to it. I suppose, demons that they may well be, I owe the Columbia House Record Club much gratitude for introducing me to one of my heroes. Gratitude I'm sure they'd just as soon pass on in lieu of the $15 they originally asked for it. 
     As for Rainbow Records...the place is a legend. I'll have to write about it later.