Review and photograph by Ross Marvin
The Capital Land Crate Digger brings you reviews of vinyl obscurities found for $10 or under at Capital District record stores, thrift shops, garage sales and junk emporiums. The vinyl archeologist behind this column is Ross Marvin, an English teacher and music enthusiast who lives in Saratoga County. Ross has over 1,000 pieces of vinyl, is running out of shelf room, and can be found getting his fingers dirty in a box of records near you.
Try to remember a perfect, exuberant night.
Stumbling over a pile of beer cans that clutter your porch, you tumble out the back door of a nearly dead house — the type of dilapidated place you know you will never live five years from now. Behind you are your best friends. Guys and girls — none coupled, but all in love. You amble down the street to the bar with the best trivia and the cheap pitchers. A good jukebox means more Clash and less country. Someone at the table has an idea for a magazine. The person next to you is starting a punk band. The art student wants to paint the bass drum. Films, books and music all get discussed — the things that High Fidelity’s Rob Gordon taught all of you to appreciate.
And then you enter back into the night, taking the shortcut home across the college campus in town. Careless, you stop to roll in the giant leaf piles left behind by someone with more responsibilities than you. You wrestle with the girl you love, laughing joyously. Victorious in stealing a kiss, you take in the smell of her fresh, powdered cheeks while warming your cold nose with her human heat.