Yeah, I think that is where I bought my records from 1972-1976. There was a huge mural of Roger Daltrey as the Pinball Wizard on the side of the building. I think it was Concordtom that said there was a pinball arcade up the stairs.
THE HEDONIST JIVE: LET'S GO RECORD SHOPPING IN 1981 BERKELEY
About 20 years ago I tossed all my albums since they were old and in bad shape. I cut a lot of the album covers in half and put some of them on my garage wall:
Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
Nice read from the vault, thanks Bearister. Did you scratch your London Calling LP badly enough that you had to buy another one, or just liked it that much?
Leopold was that store in the basement then, I do recall back in the late 80s one of the guys working there was a fellow DJ with similar tastes who moonlighted as an SF club promoter, he had a very serious motorcycle accident on his vintage Triumph, just as he was settling down and his wife got pregnant. Thankfully he pulled through.
Has anybody else been to Mac's Friday night basement get togethers in the early 90s? He was an old timer from the 60s who had an amazing collection of a couple dozen vintage pinball machines and early coin operated mechanical games in his low-ceiling unfinished basement in his Berkeley victorian house. When the blue light was on on Friday night, you could come in, with a 6 pack, provided you were a friend of a friend (or a friend of a friend of a friend, if your brew was very good).
You have an eye for detail. I had a few roommates before I got married. Record collections got mixed up and I either lost or gained an album or so after each move. Looks like I inadvertently boosted an extra London Calling.
Pretty good song after he left and before he croaked:
Cancel my subscription to the Resurrection
Send my credentials to the House of Detention
I got some friends inside
Some 30+ years ago, I was at a campsite in some country in central Europe, semi-communicating with the people in the next-door site. Told them I was from California (tended to get a friendlier response than saying "America"). They said, "oh, never rains in California, eh?".
Listening to this song and thinking about that moment as I wait for the next effing atmospheric river to arrive (due any hour now).
About 20 years ago I tossed all my albums since they were old and in bad shape. I cut a lot of the album covers in half and put some of them on my garage wall: