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February 8, 2005
Record Weirdo: Why Record Weirdo?
Why “Record Weirdo”? It’s not something that I call myself or something that I wish to be called. It just happened.
Here’s the story. It started in June, 1998. On a slow day at work, a co-worker and I had been discussing music and record collecting. I dinked around on the computer a little bit, discovered “Newsletter Wizard” and spontaneously concocted a brief one-page publication I called “Record Weirdo”. I wrote about some records I bought at a yard sale and pasted in a picture of Neil Diamond that I was using as wallpaper.
No thought went into the title. Record Weirdo was simply one of several derogatory terms I used for music collectors other than myself. Although it had kind of a creepy, stomach-churning, groaniness to it, it seemed less harsh than “Record Geek” and not as obscure as “Record Squirrel”. A record squirrel, by the way, is a jittery, nervous collector who accumulates records like a squirrel gathers nuts. He then takes them back to his den and hibernates.
As dumb as it is, "Record Weirdo" was actually a pretty good title. It was short, memorable, and accurately described the target audience. It would appeal to record weirdos in the same way that a magazine called “Organic Gardener” would appeal to organic gardeners and ONLY organic gardeners. It would be the opposite of something like “Playboy” which, although it claims to be for sophisticated
men-of-the-world, is primarily consumed by lonely guys who are not only too shy to talk to women, but are too shy to even buy real pornography.
“Record Weirdo” just made sense.
I made a few copies of the premier issue and passed them around the workplace. Reaction ranged from luke-warm to indifferent, but a few people got it. That was all the encouragement I needed.
On the way home and I stopped by a record store and left a few copies with the flyers and fanzines.
The clerk at the store liked it and immediately offered his services as a contributor. His writing was good. He knew a lot more about music and collecting than I did and he added some credibility to the project. Issue number two was on its way.
Although it was not discussed, we both wrote under pseudonyms in addition to our own names. His nom-de-plume was Norman Tabernacle and mine was Darold DeMellons. This made it seem that there were more that just two people involved. Our alter egos came equipped with their own distinct writing styles, tastes, and opinions.
The page count and circulation grew with every issue. Soon "Record Weirdo" was available at finer record stores and conventions in the Seattle area. It was a hit. More people offered to contribute and some actually did. Bands sent CD’s for us to review. Blah, blah, blah.
The whole thing lasted about a year and half. It started to suck so I killed it.
Fortunately, right before the end, most of the articles were archived on the Record Weirdo website. Due to lack of a better name, I kept the old one.
Unfortunately, some things were lost in the transition. One key contributor had his own unique style of punctuation which relied heavily on dashes and underlines and sentences that ran on and on with little or no regard for comprehensive comprehension that did not translate into HTML. The impact of his writing was definitely compromised. FortunateIy, it didn’t seem to matter to him because he was anti-technology and wouldn’t look at the website anyway.
The random graphics that were used as visual relief and filler were left behind. So were personal ads and the contests which offered such prizes as an autographed Cheap Trick 8-track or a copy of “The Ventures Play the Jim Croce Songbook”.
Nothing new was written once it went online, but because the website exists, I still get “Dear Record Weirdo” emails from all over the world. They think I actually know something.
If you do a yahoo search for “Zamfir”, “all sports band”, or “sphere clown band” you will see that the Record Weirdo website is sometimes the first site that comes up. This makes me the worlds foremost authority. Right? How about that Zamfir?
Last time I checked, I was getting more hits about Zamfir than Romania on line, the number two response. I get many emails in broken English both insulting me for insulting Zamfir and agreeing with me that he lost his artistic integrity when he sold out with those TV ads.
I recently got one asking the name of his wife. Her name is Marie-Noele. I looked it up on Romania on line.
The All Sports Band is another story. I have received more email about this article than anything else. Most of it is from people who also saw them on American Bandstand or Solid Gold and had a similar reaction to mine. I think one person said that they were hung-over when they saw them and thought they were hallucinating. I also heard from relatives and ex-girlfriends of the band. Some of them liked the story and some didn’t.
Eventually, I even received an email from the singer of the band himself. He didn’t like the story very much. In my reply, I told him that when I called his album a "turd” I meant it in the nicest possible way. He didn’t respond.
After he gave up being a rock singer, he got religion and is now a pastor of a church in San Jose. According to another email that I received from one of his flock, he foretells the future, does faith healing, and has even resurrected the dead.
I like the Sphere Clown Band. Some time after this story of their album appeared, I got an email from Patty, who was an original member of the troupe. She actually liked it. She sent it to another member and he liked it, too. He said it was the best review the album ever got. He also said it was also the only review they ever got.
Because of them, I no longer believe that all clowns are scary.
Most clowns are scary.
Speaking of scary, if you do a search for Frankie Laine, you will not get directed to the Record Weirdo website. I yanked the Frankie Laine article offline because I was getting inundated with hate mail. Let’s just say that Frankie Laine has a devoted legion of fans. I found this out the hard way.
Darold DeMellons wrote a rather hard-hitting review of Frankie’s “Hell Bent for Leather” album. The author claimed that the violence and anti-social behavior contained in this collection of western themed songs was responsible for both death metal and gangsta rap. I’m not sure which offended them more – comparing Frankie Laine to Tupak Shakur or exposing the satanic references inherent in “Mule Train”. It could have been the scatological interpretation of “Cry of The Wild Goose” or maybe it was accusing Frankie of advocating the genocide of Native Americans.
They didn’t specify. They were freaking me out, man.
It seems that the most controversial, and therefore more interesting, articles were being attributed to Darold DeMellons. I liked his stuff but he was getting out of control. His writing was better than mine.
The final issue of the newsletter contained the following obituary –
RECORD WEIRDO CONTRIBUTOR BEATS SELF TO DEATH WITH A STICK
Darold DeMellons, whose “Poetry Corner” feature has appeared in several issues of this newsletter, has announced his retirement through an act of ritualistic interpretive dance.
DeMellons will not be fondly remembered. That wasn’t even his real name anyway.
Posted by Big Kev at February 8, 2005 6:56 PM
