In The Beginning There Was Angst (And It Was Good)
As this blog begins, I suppose it’s fitting to go back to the beginning of my fascination with found sound– a day of sorting through junk that launched what has become a large and disparate collection of amateur recordings over at my house.
Actually, I was looking for records down in the golden peninsula of discarded goods, Florida. The combination of northern pilgrims coming to retire (and all that follows) and the subtropical transient lifestyle of the state, provides for a constant flow of surrendered possessions filling the junk shops, thrift stores, pawn shops, and flea markets with SO much junk that some of it has to be good.
It all began on a hot dusty afternoon in 1996 as I was browsing through a squalid little booth at a Florida flea market. It wasn’t the tied-died shirts or patchouli oil that had kept bringing me back this particular dealer. No, it was his abundant selection of cheap and dirty albums. I’d often dug up gems out of those splintering crates, but not that day. I had been there a week or two before and wasn’t finding anything I hadn’t passed up on other trips. As the friend I came with was still elbow deep in the lp’s, I started prowling around under the tables. In the middle of a lot of useless crap I came across a little cardboard box filled with cassettes. The stout bearded guy in the psychedelic wifebeater told me they were ten cents a piece.
I snatched up a few, primarily because they’d looked to be good candidates for recording purposes. However, the ball point scrawl on one particular tape suggested something more. It was a 1970’s era Memorex cassette (one of the least dependable name brands out there), and carved into the silver label were the words (in cursive and in print): “Has my voice about saving the earth.” And above that on the same side: “Has our voice about talk & seating around on side 2.” It was cryptic, yet intriguing. On the way home, I cracked open the dusty case and popped it into the deck. Like uncorking a long lost message in a bottle, the car stereo conjured forth the voice of a desperate 70’s teenager in the middle of a strange and urgent secular prayer. I’ve never heard anything like it, before or since.
For those of you who weren’t around in the early mid-70’s, it was a rather messy and pessimistic time. While the political assassinations, urban riots and the Vietnam War (which we’d just gotten out of) had driven many to anger, isolation or a drug-addled haze. And then there was the Watergate scandal, runaway inflation, another Arab-Israeli war, and a worsening oil crisis. Like today, if you were paying attention to the news it could put you in a bad mood. “We can’t go on living like this,” the kid exclaims. But instead of seeking guidance from god, or religious or political figures, his entreaty is decidedly secular. Almost cynical.
No, he theorizes that the world could be saved by tracking down the world’s top scientists and asking some hard questions. Who else might have the answers? The generals. Some people "in the other worlds” (like Russia). And if the scientists and generals are less than helpful, he’s prepared to force their hand. His plan of action? Firearms (he yearns to become a hit man), or perhaps hypnosic persuasion. On the other hand, perhaps the release of a really meaningful movie might do the trick. He’s really all over the map. Then again, other things he says make a little more sense. Like taxing the rich, or working together to solve a common future crisis. And even his “Free to Be, You and Me” language about people “putting a garden in themselves” isn’t too off the wall. It’s as close as he gets to seeking a spiritual solution.
From the accent, I’d guess the kid grew up in or near Georgia. His family may have relocated somewhere down the line, as the tape bears evidence of being recorded in California (a military brat perhaps?). It’s easy to laugh at the cockeyed concepts and mangled syntax here, but this artifact reveals the inner struggles of an anxious baby boomer on the verge of adulthood. It’s a young confused guy wondering aloud about his purpose in his life, and how he can make a better world. I guess to me the most striking thing is how contradictory it all is. I mean, about three and a half minutes into this bit, he turns a corner and sounds strikingly similar to type of urgent bonehead you might hear call in to a contemporary right wing talk show: “No more people comes to the United States!" he insists. "The United States has got to start taking power. United States got it– They’re going to use it.”
Those might have been the most prescient words spoken on this tape. Here’s the audio:
Okay, while the screed above was certainly the main feature on this tape, the casette was filled leader to leader. Following the planet saving diatribe, the rest of side A is a parade of popular (and sensitive) 70’s ballads by Billy Joel, Simon & Garfunkle, Three Dog Night, etc. You get the idea. However, at the very end of side one is some slightly more interesting content, which puts a likely date and location for the recordings on the tape. It’s a radio ad for an upcoming Virgil Fox concert, at a concert hall in the San Francisco area in September 1975. At the time I recall hearing the radio ads for the grandiose Virgil Fox organ roadshow coming through town, not really understanding why bombastic classical music with laser beams was being marketed to rock and roll teenagers. But maybe this was the kind of guy who might go for that sort of thing. And then, before the spot is over our protagonist tape jumps in to remind himself or somebody about a Native-American themed novel: “Seven Arrows” (orginally published in 1973). From the reviews I looked at online, I can see how this book might have fit into his vision quest.
While he mentions regretting souping up his car against his parents wishes and generally goofing off in his supplication to science and warfare on side A, side B is the flip side to all the sober consternation. Here’s our hero at play. It’s a party. And a couple of guests have brought in a guitar and a banjo. And it’s a teenage “pot party” jam session, including "Proud Mary," “Stairway to Heaven,” and the theme to the “Beverly Hillbillies.” It’s not a great recording. The instruments sound out of tune, and there’s lots of chatter and party coughing. I’m including it to provide a more representational archive, and to give the fossil sounds of a forgotten gathering some online posterity. I almost feel like I was there.
This tape was quite a find, but there was another compelling series of recordings buried within that little batch of crusty cassettes I picked up that day– Not as profound, but certainly containing more complicated subject matter. A lot more. But that’s a topic for another post. Or maybe a few posts…
Tagged with: apocalypse • florida • found sound • oil crisis • Romance
