Originally obtained this on an Atlantic Jazz: The Avant-Garde LP I bought at Plan 9 in Richmond’s Carytown. Just recently heard that that record store was shutting down, which ends an era. I mean not continuous, because the orginal Plan 9 I knew was a few doors up the street, but it’s all connected. The place I fantasize about digging through albums or 7-inches is always the basement of Plan 9, because you can always stay ahead of the record store dork curve and find awesome shit for cheap. Last time I was in there (over a couple of years now), I got 12-inch singles of “Life is Too Short” by Too Short and “Cell Therapy” by Goodie Mobb and “Cadillac on 22s” by David Banner, all for a buck. I can’t even begin to imagine all the wonderful pieces of vinyl I got from Plan 9 over the years. I actually was busted one time, because of Plan 9, when me and a guy stole a bunch of CDs from a guy back home who we didn’t like, split up the CDs, and I sold a bunch of them to Plan 9, carefully taking apart the CDs to mark out where the dude had discreetly placed his initials inside the CD jewel case (obviously a paranoid fuck). Still though, they found CDs at the other dude I did it with’s house, he snitched on me, and Richmond Police found records of me selling CDs to Plan 9 that partially matched the list of what was stolen. That was enough to arrest me, and Richmond PD had a warrant for my arrest about to get faxed to them, to arrest me coming out my freshmen dorms, or perhaps at the room, I don’t fucking know, when a local detective who had gone straight and narrow after drinking a lot and racing hot rods with one of my uncles as teenagers, he intercepted the warrant, said he was a friend of the family, and would handle the arrest. I plead down to misdemeanors, took the full fall (being I wasn’t gonna snitch out my friend, even if he did me… In fact, my dad said that was something he was proud of, and I matter-of-factly told the cop, “You know who did it.” And he said, “But you have to say it.” But I didn’t.), had to pay restitution which involved me borrowing a lot of money from my grandfather, and taking a good chunk out of my financial aid reimbursements each semester for the following three years to pay him back.
Even before then though, we would skip high school, get high, and go to Richmond to find some sort of adventure. I would always want that to involve going to Plan 9 to buy music we’d never find in Farmville, because the first time I ever skipped school after getting my driver’s license, me and this dude Dave took my ’69 Ford Future, beat-up beige beauty it was with the speakers that rattled like tambourines all the time, and rode up to Plan 9 specifically. Richmond was this insane city to me at the time, a simple-assed country kid who thought the one elevator in town was an amazing thing when he was five years old.
Richmond still is an insane place to me, bred a lot of my creativity into me, and I was surrounded by a lot of similar types who seem destined for things. There’s a lot of people who formed cliques and seem like some sort of alternative fraternal organization to this day, and I’m an outsider because I didn’t just have kids and buy a house in a gentrified southside neighborhood and support my local Waldorf school or whatever. But Richmond is a special fucking place in my life, and it’s had that effect on a lot of people, and Plan 9 was one of its Power Sites, for sure.
Shit man, I go to Richmond now and hardly recognize places I knew so well. The VCU area has been pretty heavily commercialized/sterilized, which I guess is good for the big business of going to college. Oregon Hill seems like it wants to be a better place, but seems like it’s half empty still, and the crackheads and miscreants and 14-year-old mamas with weasel faces will take it back over soon enough. Downtown doesn’t seem as vibrant as it once was, and I don’t mean businesses, but people. Used to be people around, and activity. Seems slower now, or more geared towards something else. I’m not sure. I think Church Hill’s natural flow was disrupted by all the new stop signs, but that’s probably a good thing because parts of Church Hill were something else, like The Wire but with different architecture using lots of asbestos siding shingles that looked like fake bricks.
Anyways, the song “Lonely Woman” is fucking amazing. I am not a huge jazz fan by any means, but I dig some stuff. Honestly, this song is one of the two that are all-time faves of mine, because they transcend music into just pure emotion. This Ornette Coleman song is such a truly sad song, so deeply and painfully sad, that I just can’t help but gone drawn into it, every fucking time. I have listened and tried other Ornette Coleman things, and a lot of it sounds like normal jazz – kind of annoying and the type of thing that makes me feel white as fuck to be listening to. But “Lonely Woman” – this is a fucking real deal song. It is the fucking truth.
STEAL “Lonely Woman”
NEXT UP: Happy rap!
5 comments:
Oregon Hill, the white trash urban ghetto. I used to park in front of this guy's house since I was too poor to pay for VCU's parking deck. I remember he had this Chevy C-10 pick up truck that was primer gray with a "3" on the doors. On the driver's side was his name in white and his old lady's name was on the passenger door. Right before I graduated I saw her name had been crossed out, and I was sad for him.
that's beautiful man. when were you at vcu? do we know each other and I just never put that together before?
I want to hear that song some kinda bad but can't figure to get them on my phone.
1998 to 2002, I was the first forensic science undergrad. I was lucky enough to live on West Franklin, there was a bar in the lobby of my apartment building called "Chuggers", right across from the registrars office.
Yeah, I graduated in 96, left RVA in 98 and was briefly back there until 2000. I know that building you spake of.
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