First went to Chicago in the summer of 1992 armed with a big bundle of dollars and a head full of record facts. Carl Fortnum had already told me about this old TV/Radio shop somewhere down the South Side. He recounted tales of a young man bringing him boxes and boxes of old dusty 45s up from the damp cellar. Carl provided his incentive by tipping him a few dollars for every box he surfaced. On entering the ground floor behind a counter attatched to the wall was some old style record racking (think Post Office letter sorting racks) littered with dusty 45s. My excitement was short lived as it contained gospel nothing but gospel releases m'lud. After some conversation I soon realised the young lad working in the shop turned out to be the very same person Carl had met the year previously. After initially carrying some boxes up the cellar stairs he soon tired and I talked my way underground.
The smell of heavy dampness was refreshing cool comparing to the sun upstairs. He fixed up a lamp rig and the hunt began. Obviously the old stock had been handled many many times before but nothing ventured an' all that.
Several hours later I'd searched, hunted and touched every damn record down in that pit.
I didn't find any expensive Northern rarities but came away with a big bundle of soul 45s for the old collection back home.
derek
Being the obsessive that I am I wrote down every record purchased from every store, every person, from every trip to America without fail. And I rarely throw anything away so if I find these files in the near future I'll add a brief list of what came out of Wilson's cellar.
First went to Chicago in the summer of 1992 armed with a big bundle of dollars and a head full of record facts. Carl Fortnum had already told me about this old TV/Radio shop somewhere down the South Side. He recounted tales of a young man bringing him boxes and boxes of old dusty 45s up from the damp cellar. Carl provided his incentive by tipping him a few dollars for every box he surfaced. On entering the ground floor behind a counter attatched to the wall was some old style record racking (think Post Office letter sorting racks) littered with dusty 45s. My excitement was short lived as it contained gospel nothing but gospel releases m'lud. After some conversation I soon realised the young lad working in the shop turned out to be the very same person Carl had met the year previously. After initially carrying some boxes up the cellar stairs he soon tired and I talked my way underground.
The smell of heavy dampness was refreshing cool comparing to the sun upstairs. He fixed up a lamp rig and the hunt began. Obviously the old stock had been handled many many times before but nothing ventured an' all that.
Several hours later I'd searched, hunted and touched every damn record down in that pit.
I didn't find any expensive Northern rarities but came away with a big bundle of soul 45s for the old collection back home.
derek
Being the obsessive that I am I wrote down every record purchased from every store, every person, from every trip to America without fail. And I rarely throw anything away so if I find these files in the near future I'll add a brief list of what came out of Wilson's cellar.
Edited by Derek Pearson