[Abby’s Road] Shopgirl Evolution

Once upon a time I worked in a record shop. It was way back in the day when cassettes (and cassingles…heeehee!) were purchased with as much fervor as the compact disc. To compensate the gigantic wage that a retail shopgirl could pocket in the early-nineties, I worked at an indie bookstore as well. Working at the Friar Tuck Bookstore is one of my fondest memories, job-wise. As far a retail jobs are concerned it was a peach. I could stand behind the counter and read without buying, point out the different departments (read: shelving units) without looking up from the pages of my ‘borrowed’ book and take tag team smoke breaks with my co-workers. I think I paid $375 a month in rent back then. Sigh. Back to the record shop.

It was a chain. I had to wear a red polo shirt with the name of the shop emblazoned over my right breast..and a name tag, if memory serves me. Bad. Badbadbad. Nevertheless, I worked there. It was a time when label reps actually visited the shop and had physical promo copies available for rotation play; a small gift for those of us working there wearing the scarlet shirt of shame. Over the year (or two?) under their employ I got to know specific reps and they got to know what I liked. I still own a few gems the reps handed over. I’ve kept them over the years, the small drilled hole in their spines and/or black sharpie swish over their barcodes reminding me they were freebees and “not labeled for (re)sale”. Exit Planet Dust was one of those records.

I was used to lo-fi and droney, shoegaze music – it was how I defined myself, musically and otherwise. Of course I was a child of the 80s, so I cut my teeth on New Order and, a little later, went to industrial dance nights at Pittsburgh clubs with the clanging sounds of Nitzer Ebb and Front 242, so I wasn’t a complete virgin to the electric/synthesized world. When I put the Chemical Brothers record on for the first time I was immediately drawn to it. Perhaps it was the cover art photo being so uncharacteristic of the music it was wrapped around. I played it in the shop over and over again, bucking the hard and fast rule of “top 40 rotation” in-store play. Of course it got monotonous but there were far too many “wait for it..wait..listen to this part!” moments I wanted other people to hear that I had no choice but to continue playing it over and over (and over) again. “One Too Many Mornings” is my favorite track on the record. At the time in 1995, a year after the loss of my father, music was medicine for me. Not sure why that specific track has stuck with me when the others have really become dated. It’s a catalyst for memories of sadness and elation and being young and silly. I’ll go with that.

Over the last 15 years, The Chemical Brothers were lost in a sea of thousands of tracks, digitized and unearthed only when my iPod shuffle mode to allowed them to say hello. A few months ago I stumbled over “Swoon,” a track from their 2010 release, Further. It is a mature version of what they did so well back in 1995. An amalgam of Valentines-ish drones and 80s pop synth basslines, “Swoon” is a lovely single (and the video is stunning as well). I recently described it to a friend as being the lovechild of MBV’s “I Only Said” and Madonna’s “Into the Groove” (do the research). Gorgeous.

Needless to say, I bought their new record. It is indeed packed with loops and beats but the added maturity of imperfect noise, sharps and flats and pitchy guitars was a surprise and brought them full-circle for me. As an adult I can appreciate not only what they created when I was a kid, but what they are making now as well. I find such simple gifts incredibly comforting. I can only hope that I, too, am a better version of what I was back then as well, evolved, well-adjusted and sounding better than ever.

Happy weekend.

[Abby’s Road is a Knox Road feature published every other Friday.]