We never had Napster and we liked it
In the 80's industrious young men would find interesting ways to occupy themselves on summer nights. In the days before email, cell phones, and the internet we had to get creative. Dave and I were music lovers with a phone book, and a desire for something that might pass for adventure.
I can still recall the exhilaration of the getaway, the hum of Dave's Datsun wagon with faux wood paneling on the side. Pulling onto the freeway we knew we were clear, and it was safe to sample the spoils. On this night the spoils started with a cassette tape by an artist called Kool Mo Dee. As the first beats of 'go see the doctor' played we felt satisfied listening to this artist we'd only moments earlier 'discovered' in the large trash bin at RCA records. As Kool Mo Dee rapped about the perils of venereal disease we must've looked quite pleased with ourselves.
And so went the first night of dumpster diving. Later we would branch out to all the major labels, get chased by security on several occasions, and bring friends along. I think I stopped short of taking a date however.
Laugh all you want but under coffee grounds and Chinese food we found happiness in the form of Depeche mode, Echo and the bunnymen, and the Cult radio promo 12" singles. I would read all the trades, Billboard, Hits, Variety, and any others that were dry enough to take home. We had life size cardboard standups of Hall and Oates, Rick Springfield, as well as lesser 'artists' like Joyce Kennedy. I owned more Whitney Houston posters than the Houston family. Over time my room began to look like a warehouse full of cut out bins. If only we had ebay back then I'd be blogging from my yacht.
Psst...wanna buy a Grim Reaper keychain?
I can still recall the exhilaration of the getaway, the hum of Dave's Datsun wagon with faux wood paneling on the side. Pulling onto the freeway we knew we were clear, and it was safe to sample the spoils. On this night the spoils started with a cassette tape by an artist called Kool Mo Dee. As the first beats of 'go see the doctor' played we felt satisfied listening to this artist we'd only moments earlier 'discovered' in the large trash bin at RCA records. As Kool Mo Dee rapped about the perils of venereal disease we must've looked quite pleased with ourselves.
And so went the first night of dumpster diving. Later we would branch out to all the major labels, get chased by security on several occasions, and bring friends along. I think I stopped short of taking a date however.
Laugh all you want but under coffee grounds and Chinese food we found happiness in the form of Depeche mode, Echo and the bunnymen, and the Cult radio promo 12" singles. I would read all the trades, Billboard, Hits, Variety, and any others that were dry enough to take home. We had life size cardboard standups of Hall and Oates, Rick Springfield, as well as lesser 'artists' like Joyce Kennedy. I owned more Whitney Houston posters than the Houston family. Over time my room began to look like a warehouse full of cut out bins. If only we had ebay back then I'd be blogging from my yacht.
Psst...wanna buy a Grim Reaper keychain?
posted by Robert_M at 11:02 AM
2 Comments:
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
I fondly remember making a couple of dumpster runs with Dave in his wagon that sported the "Tennis Is My Bag" license plate frames. Dave approached a dumpster run like a suburban James Bond --- Plano's own secret agent with the two-toned bleached blonde hair. Nobody told Dave that dumpster diving was completely legal. He was so sure that intercepting trash on it's way to the landfill was some sort of felony and at every turn the law was going to haul us off to jail for helping ourselves to stuff that big corporations threw away.
On one memorable run with Dave, I sifted through promo copies of whatever album Atlantic Starr had to offer in 1986, a whole lot of single cassettes of Fleetwood Mac's "Seven Wonders" and an obscene number of Curiosity Killed The Cat's "Keep Your Distance" albums. Dave took an armload of the Curiosity LP's for some reason --- apparantly he couldn't get enough of the band that blazed the way for Johnny Hates Jazz and Rick Astley.
After digging way down to the bottom of the trash, I came up with an LP that had a blank white cover. It was Les Rita Mitsouko's "No Comprendo" album. Score! I had actually heard of them, seeing their video of C'Est Comme Ca on MTV's 120 Minutes, which in 1986 was my bible for everything that was cool in new music. I loved that song and the album. In fact I still have the album --- it has Dave's handwriting on the cover. Dave already had the album and was kind enough to write down all of the song titles on it for me, even though they were all in French and made no sense to me.
I miss dumpster diving. And I miss Dave.
Post a Comment
<< Home