#gothg

Sunday Records shopping list, 2018.

Sunday is the best day to go to a record store. Why have we opened this record store? For you. To see your smile when you look at the records. And, hear your story about how a song or album changed your life. The people who come into the store are happy to be here. We see glowing faces. We see people who are taking a moment out of their busy day to relive a memory that was special to them or discover a new song they never heard before. A very cool thing to witness and be a part of. See you on Sunday. Come in and flip through.

That’s what Sunday Records says on its page. No exclamation marks. No explosive excitement. It spoke to us in a kind pleasant way. They made a point that after a crazy work-week, there should be one day for everyone to enjoy themselves and spend the time relaxing. I’ll co-sign on that statement.

I learned of its existence from my former co-worker and friend Kryssy who made a video of it for journalism. Opened since November of last year, it’s named after the only day of the week it’s open. It seems odd because all businesses nationwide are open at least five days a week to stay alive and for its owners to maintain a living back home. Not Sunday Records who’s open for business for only a few hours per week. I wondered how? Brian is a city lawyer whose second passion was opening this store. He wins either way. It was the longest drive so far for music. Close to 28 miles driving out east to Riverhead, to be exact. Long stretches of road on the Long Island Expressway makes you have Brown Bunny moments where you’re in a zen-like state driving only 55 m.p.h., conjuring up all these mundane events during these trips like the weather, certain people, and anything else that comes to mind. There were plenty of police on the highways, one in an SUV parked on the side of the road with his lights flashing, mercilessly firing a speed-gun in our direction. The 7th precinct is right off the highway in Yaphank so that explains it.

Riverhead is a plain normal leisurely town with plain normal leisurely people. It does nothing to anyone. It’s right at the split of the east end of Long Island buried in trees and near the water. Sunday Records was almost straight-forward to get to with a round-a-bout to switch county roads. I walk in and there were no more than 10 people of all ages 17 and up. Some by themselves, some with boyfriends. There was a listening room behind its’ storefront window for visitors to sit and enjoy the music. All stores have genres, new releases behind the counter, staff picks, dollar-bins, and maybe four-for-a-quarter in all formats. Sunday Records has none of it. There are no bargain bins but titles are priced starting at $3.00 each for singles and $4.00 to $20.00 for most LPs. No CDs or cassettes, only vinyl. It’s the one store on the island to truly pull it off. No behind-the-counter new releases, no registers. Brian, the owner, was sitting behind the dee-jay booth playing tried-and-true classics.

“How are you? Have you ever been here before?” he asked in which I kindly answered “no”. “As you see, all of these records here are categorized by radio station. Over there: there’s WEHM for all the newer stuff, WBAB for classic rock, WLIR for the Eighties, new-wave, and pop hits. Other stuff we have, we have jazz and rockabilly at that back wall, and other music we have listed as ambient.”

That’s right. All albums are categorized by Long Island radio stations, not by genres. Either he worked in broadcast or just like thousands of Long Islanders and I, he loves his classic radio. I should know. I never seen any record store who organized themselves by call letters over genres. Then I realized, I’m now organizing my favorite jazz / fusion songs by channels I watched as a kid in Brooklyn, and my Omega projects are organized by seasons. Then we go back to Brian, whose own system was a first. Commercial radio has formats, so does Sunday Records. That’s the thing. WLIR’s credo was they “dared to be different” and it worked. It’s why there’s a newly-released documentary about it. Adult-alternative station WEHM operates in Manorville with both Billy Joel and ex-wife Christine Brinkley having minor stakes in it. WBAB is Long Island’s long-standing rock station which pioneered the album-oriented format (AOR). All three I never listened to as WEHM’s signal is too far east for me to reach (but there’s streaming, right?), and as an Eighties kid I always listened to Z100 and other stations forward. They’re still in alphabetical order and by artists, not all hope is lost. In fact, it’s in perfect alphabetical order. There’s almost no room for error where people pull things out and place them in the wrong bin. Brian has it down to a tee. All records sold are in plastic sleeves and labeled at the very top right-hand corner. It was easy for my eyes and fingers to scan through the 100 or so wooden 12” bins and 30 7” shelves. I zipped through the entire store in less than three hours. Sunday Records’ majority of stock were chart hits. Classic rock like The Who, Rolling Stones, Ted Nugent, Lynyrn Skynyrd, and so forth were classified under WBAB. They also carried a lot of No Age (which I picked up), Hot Chip, The XX, Sleater-Kinney, Arcade Fire, and other Pitchfork-approved artists mostly under the WEHM umbrella.

But if you’re a fan of new-wave, synthpop, and early industrial, then Sunday Records welcomes you with open arms. As it falls directly into Sunday’s format (WLIR), artists like General Public, Simple Minds, Yaz, Heaven 17, Lene Lovich, Art Of Noise, and Culture Club are featured. Tom Tom Club, Re-Flex, Modern English, Roxy Music, Spandau Ballet, Dead Or Alive, Freur, APB, Kissing The Pink, and so much more. They had plenty of Depeche Mode, Joy Division, and New Order, too. I was even surprised in seeing 12” singles from With Sympathy-era Ministry and Front 242. Less than half of these artists I just listed I never even thought received radio airplay and I totally missed it. It was the Eighties and synth-based dance music was huge, though it wasn’t the only genre they played. Whatever few records not classified under Sunday’s radio system is labeled as ambient, as I did find a few copies from Baby Ford, Aphex Twin, Groove Armada, and other electronic acts. But like radio, Sunday Records abides by format. If it doesn’t fit that format, then it’s not there. That meant no hardcore, underground punk, hip-hop or noise to be found. Not to say that’s bad thing, because if there’s a system, then it’s done right.

I was pleased to find what I did. Three Cabaret Voltaire records which made up giving them up earlier. There was Images In Vogue’s self-titled release whom cEvin Key of Skinny Puppy used to drum for. Nitzer Ebb’s As Is was all for the taking. Hello again, Strawberry Switchblade. My stay there shined with the purchase of many singles that I listened to during my Eighties gamer youth, singles from Dead Or Alive, Tony Basil, Suzanne Vega, J. Geils Band, and Utah Saints. More synth-pop goodness from Fad Gadget and Gary Numan, the first of each artist in my library. How about singles from Malcomb McLaren and Public Image Ltd.? Stray Cats and Madness were two from the turn-of-the-decade rockabilly and post-punk. Finally, there’s Todd Rundgren’s “Hello, It’s Me” and Siouxsie Sioux’s “Hong Kong Garden”, two singles that hit the spot during a essential springtime at Stony Brook.

Let’s not forget the full-size records. I was very relieved to find Steve Jones as everything he does is gold. Steely Dan’s Pretzel Logic was one of the few I was missing of theirs. Why not Patti Smith’s Easter just because? And if there’s only one Doors’ album to have, it’s their greatest hits containing all their songs from a friend’s mixtape given to me in junior year. The only jazz record I picked up was Ramsey Lewis’ Tequila Mockingbird which had “Skippin’”, once used for WABC’s late-night movie intro which has yet to surface.

Of all the visits during this run, here’s where I passed up the most records. There were two Aphex Twin records I gave up as I knew I had them already on disc. Kraftwerk’s glow-in-the-dark “Neon Lights” single caught my eye and yours, too, if you found it. At $40.00, I couldn’t even touch it. That was the second most expensive title Brian had. That honor went to a real metal tin copy of Public Image’s Ltd.’s Metal Box priced at a hefty $125.00. There was Johnny Lydon hiding behind it, looking at me with his sad face when I seen its’ First Issue. It was sadder to put it back on the shelf because $20.00 was too much for a release I may find for less later. The same went for a newly-pressed Velvet Underground non-peel version for $22.00. I also gave up two Parliament records, Mothership Connection and Motor Booty Affair on picture disc, both for at least $25.00. Parliament is one artist I can never seem to find at a low price.

Halfway through some intense searching, some weird dude came in all dressed up in a patterned polo, jeans, and a twee handlebar mustache. I’m not kidding. He was half a cowboy minus the ten-gallon hat. He’s minding his own business thumbing through the crates as I learned it was Caboose, former staffer of the Stony Brook Press. I gave him 20 minutes for him to turn around and notice me. That’s when I spotted him. Time’s up, Caboose. He sees me in “holy shit!” ecstasy. We haven’t seen each other since our time at Stony Brook. Knowing I been going across the island, he had to catch me at one of these ten stores. He had his ninth chance and found me here. Congratulations. It wasn’t until recently that he took up record collecting, which he didn’t have in him back then. He was still heavily into anime and had a few visits in the city lined up for the rare Japanese metal band coming to the states.

“Do you buy records because you really like them or just for the art?” Caboose came across as inconsiderate and snide, but this was a legitimate question as I myself made purchases based on record cover or artwork alone. Make no mistake I was familiar with all the artists I bought today. Not that it mattered. He then asked how many records I have. Let’s just say he almost died right in the store. We kept on catching up with each other. Both of us haven’t seen our fellow Press staffers in our paths since but one of our own, The People’s Republic Of James, was in the hospital for diabetic shock. As we’re talking, Frank Zappa’s “Catholic Girls” came on from Brian’s dee-jay booth and it was the most cringe-worthy thing I ever heard. It’s well-known that Zappa pushed the envelope for creative freedom and our right to enjoy blue comedy. I’m all for it, but it’s way below me now. There were perverse people in my life who still get a kick out of it, insignificants with drop-out mentalities who still operate on cheap one-track minds I want no part of. But a few minutes later, Brian offered us to play Public Image Ltd.’s Album, so all was back to normal. Caboose mentioned to Brian that I was from WUSB and a conversation struck up. Brian asked about my show and my experience at Sunday. I thought it was great that his store was set up for a specific nostalgia factor that truly hit home and personal. Towards the end of my search, more people entered saying positive things about Sunday Records. I couldn’t agree more. With a few more sacrifices, it’s time to pay up.

There was one more thing he wanted to show me as he added up my records. Some of them had stickers designating some copies as “screamer & screecher of the week” as per number and week, referring to WLIR’s special feature where its’ dee-jays nominated their favorites and listeners chose the winner by call-in vote. A feature that ran for 17 years of the station’s history, that, if someone were to see each entry (and Discogs has it posted, don’t worry), would see WLIR’s evolution over the years. Many people think Brian’s an eccentric only being open on Sundays and classifying records by radio station. I agree. But guess what? It’s a good eccentric. Here’s a guy who cares about the history of radio so much that he’s made a store of it. I swiped my card, signed off my purchase, shook his hand and said thank you.

Nine down, one to go. The experience at Sunday Records had me thinking of how different people classify things in their lives and how they make it work. It also had me thinking what was really out there decades ago and what else I could’ve picked up living as an Eighties kid. The only record store left to visit is now Innersleeve in Amangansett all the way inside Long Island’s south fork and right before Montauk (The End). I’m not going at it by myself. I’d like to enlist a few of my friends to chip in, and come with me to put the finish on a great record-store run.

Cabaret Voltaire  The Arm Of The Lord

Nitzer Ebb As Is

Strawberry Switchblade  Who Knows What Love Is?

Steve Jones  Mercy

Patti Smith  Easter

Ramsey Lewis  Tequila Mockingbird

Doors, The  Greatest Hits

Cabaret Voltaire  Drinking Gasoline

Utah Saints “Something Good”

Image In Vogue self-titled EP

Steely Dan  Pretzel Logic

No Age  Losing Feeling

Dead Or Alive “Brand New Lover”

Cabaret Voltaire  The Drain Train

Public Image Ltd. “Home”

Gary Numan “Cars” / “Metal”

Malcomb McLaren “Soweto” b/w “Zulu’s On A Time Bomb”

J. Geils Band “Centerfold” b/w “Rage In The Cage”

Fad Gadget “One Man’s Meat” b/w “Sleep”

Tony Basil “Mickey” b/w “Hangin’ Around”

Stray Cats “(She’s) Sexy + 17” b/w “Lookin’ Better Every Beer”

Madness “Our House” b/w “Cardiac Arrest”

Todd Rundgren “Hello It’s Me” b/w “Cold Morning Light”

No Age  Eraser 7”

Suzanne Vega “Luca” b/w “Night Vision”