I have been lazy and uninspired as all get out, but I thought I'd round up some random bits of "news" that I've taken note of over the last couple of months.
You've surely heard about the imminent closure of the Colony by now. If not, check out JVNY, the Post, the News, the Times, Gothamist, and WQXR.
Speaking of record store closings, the Capital New York site presented a half-hour documentary about Bleecker Bob`s last month, entitled For the Records. (The site also had a post about the Colony a couple days ago.)
And while we're on the subject of bygone eras in NYC record shopping, this ain't news, but it was new info to me. A couple of weeks ago, Norton co-honcho/A-Bones lead shouter Billy Miller told a great story about Second Avenue-centric rekkid retail on his FB page. I'd never heard about this before, but in the early '70s, one of the best and most economical places to score records was situated right across the street from the Fillmore East. And it wasn't really a record store in the traditional sense, though at the time the neighborhood was chock full of them--Billy mentioned such shops as Free Being, Hall Place Music, and Gramophone, and noted that most secondhand bookshops in the area sold records too. But this joint was different, and was way more wallet-friendly than most. It was a drop off center/thrift shop type of place run by Guru Maharaj Ji's Divine Light Mission. Apparently, new converts to the Mission were obliged to shed all their worldly possessions when they joined, and those cast-off material goods wound up here, priced to move. LPs, even double albums, sold for a dime. Surprisingly, Billy didn't mention the cost of 45s, but I imagine they went for pennies. And the demographics of the devotees must've been ideal. At a time when he was just discovering the wylder side of '50s and '60s rock and roll, Billy purchased several hundred primo platters there on the super-cheap--and anything he didn't dig could be re-sold to unsuspecting school pals at a tidy profit. Anybody know a mantra that could reincarnate such a divoon record nirvana today?
On a near-weekly basis since June, the Times' Local East Village blog has been hosting excellent posts by the Nightclubbing ladies, Emily Armstrong and Pat Ivers.
When you've had your fill of Nightclubbing's late '70s punk video, you can listen to Ira Robbins discuss the '77 NYC scene with Jim DeRogatis and Greg Kot, on last week's episode of WBEZ-Chicago's Sound Opinions. You may also want to hear the previous week's installment, which featured Jon Savage discussing '77-era London.
Lastly, Peppermint Twist: The Mob, the Music, and the Most Famous Dance Club of the '60s, by John Johnson Jr. and Joel Selvin with Dick Cami, is due in November.
Showing posts with label Freebeing Records. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Freebeing Records. Show all posts
Saturday, August 25, 2012
Tuesday, August 30, 2005
Free Be Jeebies
[This title kinda reminds me of the time my moms took a phone message for me about meeting some friends for a show at CBGB's--only she had misheard the name as Heebie Jeebies. Most decidedly not Pandora's Golden ones, though.]
FREEBEING RECORDS, 129 Second Avenue just south of St. Marks Place. Or was it Free Being? I've seen the name of this late, lamented '70s/'80s record shop spelled both ways. According to the aforementioned Mike Fornatale, it "was one of the few places buying/selling used LPs in 1972...(sigh)...those were the days!" I recently rented the DVD of The Nomi Song--a required-viewing elegy for both a man and an era gone by--and among the many excellent extras is a brief "slide show" of some of director Andrew Horn's fave old East Village haunts. To a photo of Freebeing's front sign, he narrates as follows:
I think this was the first record store that I can remember where I started noticing the first sort of independently produced records. There was a point at which the bands at that time started realizing that for a few hundred dollars you could press your own record, and suddenly there was this explosion of records all over the place. And every week or every day [the store] would paste the new single that had just come out in the door, and the door would be full of all these singles. And I think this is the first place where I ever saw the B-52s single and the Elvis Costello.
Some other customer recollections are available here, here, here, and here, but unfortunately they have more to do with records found there than with the vibe and appearance of the store itself. I visited the store a few times as a tentative teenybopper during my earliest solo East Side expeditions (only after fully exploring the Greenwich Village frontier was it finally time to venture beyond Broadway's DMZ). Can't recall any specific items I bought, but I do remember the shop as a loud, crowded, lively hive of frenzied record-flipping activity. I'm not sure when it closed down, but ISTR a San Loco taco stand appearing in its stead by the late '80s. If I'm not mistaken, around that same time there was a record shop on Carmine Street calling itself Freebeing--but I may have the name wrong, and even if I am correct it may not have been a new location for the original. [Despite my iffyness about the Carmine St. shop's name, I can clearly recall how overjoyed I was upon finding a mint vinyl copy of the Jam's All Mod Cons there during my big 1988 Paul Weller phase.]
Since I never got into Friends I haven't seen this, but apparently one of the storefronts near Central Perk was named Free Being Records in honor of executive producer Kevin Bright's fond memores of the shop. As for the real storefront, it is currently home to Cinderella Falafel.
UPDATE 7/20/2006: Just found out that The Big Takeover's Jack Rabid worked there in the mid-'80s.
UPDATE 11/1/2010: This photo was recently posted to the NY Rocks Facebook group--a portion of the store's sign is visible in the center.
Also, quite a while back I located some ads in the 1971 Voice which revealed that the store was originally called Silverlight. Here's one example, from the 7/29/71 issue.
FREEBEING RECORDS, 129 Second Avenue just south of St. Marks Place. Or was it Free Being? I've seen the name of this late, lamented '70s/'80s record shop spelled both ways. According to the aforementioned Mike Fornatale, it "was one of the few places buying/selling used LPs in 1972...(sigh)...those were the days!" I recently rented the DVD of The Nomi Song--a required-viewing elegy for both a man and an era gone by--and among the many excellent extras is a brief "slide show" of some of director Andrew Horn's fave old East Village haunts. To a photo of Freebeing's front sign, he narrates as follows:
I think this was the first record store that I can remember where I started noticing the first sort of independently produced records. There was a point at which the bands at that time started realizing that for a few hundred dollars you could press your own record, and suddenly there was this explosion of records all over the place. And every week or every day [the store] would paste the new single that had just come out in the door, and the door would be full of all these singles. And I think this is the first place where I ever saw the B-52s single and the Elvis Costello.
Some other customer recollections are available here, here, here, and here, but unfortunately they have more to do with records found there than with the vibe and appearance of the store itself. I visited the store a few times as a tentative teenybopper during my earliest solo East Side expeditions (only after fully exploring the Greenwich Village frontier was it finally time to venture beyond Broadway's DMZ). Can't recall any specific items I bought, but I do remember the shop as a loud, crowded, lively hive of frenzied record-flipping activity. I'm not sure when it closed down, but ISTR a San Loco taco stand appearing in its stead by the late '80s. If I'm not mistaken, around that same time there was a record shop on Carmine Street calling itself Freebeing--but I may have the name wrong, and even if I am correct it may not have been a new location for the original. [Despite my iffyness about the Carmine St. shop's name, I can clearly recall how overjoyed I was upon finding a mint vinyl copy of the Jam's All Mod Cons there during my big 1988 Paul Weller phase.]
Since I never got into Friends I haven't seen this, but apparently one of the storefronts near Central Perk was named Free Being Records in honor of executive producer Kevin Bright's fond memores of the shop. As for the real storefront, it is currently home to Cinderella Falafel.
UPDATE 7/20/2006: Just found out that The Big Takeover's Jack Rabid worked there in the mid-'80s.
UPDATE 11/1/2010: This photo was recently posted to the NY Rocks Facebook group--a portion of the store's sign is visible in the center.
Also, quite a while back I located some ads in the 1971 Voice which revealed that the store was originally called Silverlight. Here's one example, from the 7/29/71 issue.
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