Fuck Record Store Day

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I’m there all the time. I don’t need no fuckin “holiday” to celebrate one of my favorite places to be in the Universe. Anywho, today I dropped into my friendly local Sonic Boom, here in Ballard, and found a true BatCat booby trap awaiting me in the Jazz section. First off, I delighted upon a still-sealed copy of an old Ray Charles record that is on a now defunct label that approximated the Folkways Archival series and Lomax Collection bits. I have yet to listen to it yet, though I’m sure it will be dandy, as I’m reliving the beauty of my first time listening to New Orleans Suite by Duke Ellington. There was also a handsomely priced copy of The Great Paris Concert by Ellington & his Orchestra, which I don’t believe I’ve ever laid ears on before. My Grandfather Bill would be so happy with the Ellington. He was an Ellington fan, which made him a bit cooler than my other Grandfather, who was more into Benny Goldman. Meh. Then I got a Best Of/Greatest Hits for Dean Martin and The Ramsey Lewis Trio. I always liked Dean-o. Ramsey Lewis is just straight up funky shit. Dig it! Grover Washington Jr.’s Mister Magic for four bucks?!? Hells to the yeah! To top it all off, I (finally?) bought my first Quincy Jones record: Quincy’s Got A Brand New Bag. I bet there’s some funky good times on that spin. All in all, a great trip to the record store. I bet this makes Sean Molnar salivate and Evan Florry-Barnes nod his head in approval. Right on!

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