Hidden amongst their selection of calypso albums was this strange little record by some guy named Blind Blake. There was another record of my grandparents that we came to absolutely cherish, so much so that we appropriated it from their collection and took it home (I'm not sure if we informed them of this pilferage or not, to be honest). Sure, it sounds incredibly cheesy now, but to my eight-year-old ears, it was pretty damn cool. My personal favorite was a bizarre little record called Battle Stereo, which augmented a series of predictable battle anthems with sound effects like blasting canons and firing muskets. They lived nearby when my sister and I were still young children, and we'd routinely plunder through their LPs, mostly comprised of "old people music" like Jerry Vale, Perry Como and Edith Piaf (my grandmother's favorite).
My grandparents' record collection was also rife with favorites. My imagination was still fired by them, and ultimately they acted as the "gateway drug," if you will, for my since-lifelong music obsession. Even though these records were largely bereft of power-chords and/or cries for violent insurrection, I immersed myself in them the same way I would with my favorite rock albums a few short years later. All these great platters of physically substantial vinyl came sheathed in heavy cardboard sleeves, often with ornate gatefolds. On top of those, there were piles of soundtrack albums (I was inexplicably stricken with the original cast recording of "Camelot" as a young lad) and quirky comedy LPs by guys like Stan Freberg, Tom Lehrer, Spike Jones (the original ala "Cocktails for Two," not the director) and Bob Newhart. I can't remember if they were my mom's records or my step-father's, but there was some groovier fare on offer as well, notably by the Ramsey Lewis Trio, Ray Charles, Sergio Mendes' Brazil `66 ("Mas Que Nada" is the fuckin' jam!), Herb Alpert and The Baja Marimba Band, an instrumental mob who wore ridiculous sombreros and vaguely offensive comedy-mustaches. Pepper's was the jumping off point for them - no fans of lysergic weirdness they). My parents routinely played a steady rotation of singer/songwriter-types like Cat Stevens, Simon & Garfunkel, James Taylor, Carole King and bands like Abba and The Beatles (although I believe Sgt. Even before I discovered Kiss and started pilfering choice selections my older sister's collection, there were plenty of records in the house that I was into. Looking back, there was always music in our home when I was growing up.
This post is going to be in striking contrast to yesterday's item about GG Allin, but whatever.
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