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.
Thatâs 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. Iâll 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, itâs named after the only day of the week itâs 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 whoâs 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 youâre 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. Itâs 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 itsâ 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. Itâs 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.
âHow are you? Have you ever been here before?â he asked in which I kindly answered ânoâ. âAs you see, all of these records here are categorized by radio station. Over there: thereâs 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.â
Thatâs 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, Iâm 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. Thatâs the thing. WLIRâs credo was they âdared to be differentâ and it worked. Itâs why thereâs 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 Islandâs long-standing rock station which pioneered the album-oriented format (AOR). All three I never listened to as WEHMâs signal is too far east for me to reach (but thereâs streaming, right?), and as an Eighties kid I always listened to Z100 and other stations forward. Theyâre still in alphabetical order and by artists, not all hope is lost. In fact, itâs in perfect alphabetical order. Thereâs 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 12â bins and 30 7â shelves. I zipped through the entire store in less than three hours. Sunday Recordsâ 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 youâre a fan of new-wave, synthpop, and early industrial, then Sunday Records welcomes you with open arms. As it falls directly into Sundayâs 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 12â 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 wasnât the only genre they played. Whatever few records not classified under Sundayâs 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 doesnât fit that format, then itâs not there. That meant no hardcore, underground punk, hip-hop or noise to be found. Not to say thatâs bad thing, because if thereâs a system, then itâs 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 Vogueâs self-titled release whom cEvin Key of Skinny Puppy used to drum for. Nitzer Ebbâs 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, thereâs Todd Rundgrenâs âHello, Itâs Meâ and Siouxsie Siouxâs âHong Kong Gardenâ, two singles that hit the spot during a essential springtime at Stony Brook.
Letâs not forget the full-size records. I was very relieved to find Steve Jones as everything he does is gold. Steely Danâs Pretzel Logic was one of the few I was missing of theirs. Why not Patti Smithâs Easter just because? And if thereâs only one Doorsâ album to have, itâs their greatest hits containing all their songs from a friendâs mixtape given to me in junior year. The only jazz record I picked up was Ramsey Lewisâ Tequila Mockingbird which had âSkippinââ, once used for WABCâs late-night movie intro which has yet to surface.
Of all the visits during this run, hereâs 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. Kraftwerkâs glow-in-the-dark âNeon Lightsâ single caught my eye and yours, too, if you found it. At $40.00, I couldnât even touch it. That was the second most expensive title Brian had. That honor went to a real metal tin copy of Public Imageâs Ltd.âs 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 itsâ 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. Iâm not kidding. He was half a cowboy minus the ten-gallon hat. Heâs 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. Thatâs when I spotted him. Timeâs up, Caboose. He sees me in âholy shit!â ecstasy. We havenât 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 wasnât until recently that he took up record collecting, which he didnât 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.
âDo you buy records because you really like them or just for the art?â 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. Letâs just say he almost died right in the store. We kept on catching up with each other. Both of us havenât seen our fellow Press staffers in our paths since but one of our own, The Peopleâs Republic Of James, was in the hospital for diabetic shock. As weâre talking, Frank Zappaâs âCatholic Girlsâ came on from Brianâs dee-jay booth and it was the most cringe-worthy thing I ever heard. Itâs well-known that Zappa pushed the envelope for creative freedom and our right to enjoy blue comedy. Iâm all for it, but itâs 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.âs 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 couldnât agree more. With a few more sacrifices, itâs 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 âscreamer & screecher of the weekâ as per number and week, referring to WLIRâs special feature where itsâ dee-jays nominated their favorites and listeners chose the winner by call-in vote. A feature that ran for 17 years of the stationâs history, that, if someone were to see each entry (and Discogs has it posted, donât worry), would see WLIRâs evolution over the years. Many people think Brianâs an eccentric only being open on Sundays and classifying records by radio station. I agree. But guess what? Itâs a good eccentric. Hereâs a guy who cares about the history of radio so much that heâs 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 couldâve picked up living as an Eighties kid. The only record store left to visit is now Innersleeve in Amangansett all the way inside Long Islandâs south fork and right before Montauk (The End). Iâm not going at it by myself. Iâd 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
Strawberry Switchblade  Who Knows What Love Is?
Ramsey Lewis  Tequila Mockingbird
Doors, The  Greatest Hits
Cabaret Voltaire  Drinking Gasoline
Utah Saints âSomething Goodâ
Image In Vogue self-titled EP
Steely Dan  Pretzel Logic
Dead Or Alive âBrand New Loverâ
Cabaret Voltaire  The Drain Train
Public Image Ltd. âHomeâ
Gary Numan âCarsâ / âMetalâ
Malcomb McLaren âSowetoâ b/w âZuluâs On A Time Bombâ
J. Geils Band âCenterfoldâ b/w âRage In The Cageâ
Fad Gadget âOne Manâs Meatâ b/w âSleepâ
Tony Basil âMickeyâ b/w âHanginâ Aroundâ
Stray Cats â(Sheâs) Sexy + 17â b/w âLookinâ Better Every Beerâ
Madness âOur Houseâ b/w âCardiac Arrestâ
Todd Rundgren âHello Itâs Meâ b/w âCold Morning Lightâ
Suzanne Vega âLucaâ b/w âNight Visionâ
Siouxsie Sioux & The Banshees âHong Kong Gardenâ b/w âNight Visionâ