So, Sunday was Record Store Day. For the record (haha, unintentional pun, haha), I celebrated it by reshelving my CD collection and putting this blog together. A good way to spend it, I think.
But I also extended my celebrating into yesterday, when I saw I Need That Record at the Drafthouse, sponsored in part by Austin record store End of an Ear.
Hmm. It was okay. It covered its bases:
1. Talk about the emergence of radio in the U.S., starting in the 1920s
2. Talk about Payola
3. Talk about Telecomm Act of 1996, and how much power deregulation gave to major corporations
4. Talk about Wal-Mart and big box chains
5. Talk about the price hike of CD sales starting in the 1990s
6. Talk about Napster
7. Talk about digital technology, and how this has impacted potential consumers’ relationship to the music industry
8. Talk about how this impacts local/independent record stores, and encourage you, the conscientious buyer, to give your money to them
9. Load your documentary with statistical evidence that underlines points 1-8
One thing I’ll give this movie, apart from its noble message, is that it made me wanna go on a tour of the midwest and northeast, which is primarily where all the record stores in this documentary are located (I think I gotta make a trek up to Nashville this summer to check out Grimey’s). Also, the documentary’s brianchild, Brendan Toller, got some indie heavyweights like Ian MacKaye, Thurston Moore, Mike Watt, and (my favorite curmudgeon) Glenn Branca to volunteer their services as talking heads. That’s cool, if for no other reason than to know that maybe me or you (yes, you) can get ten minutes of face time with them to talk about how The Man is evil. Sure, fine. The Man is, in fact, evil. I’m cool with that.
Also, the documentary wove in some neat archival and news footage. Good on you, Toller.
As a documentary, though, it’s a bit film school 101. Toller seems really set on letting you know he can be clever with imagery — if, by clever, you mean putting together collages of pop stars, splicing reels of pre-existing film footage to make fit your piece’s context, and shooting unnecessary, clearly scripted bits of magic realism (there’s a clearly staged gag that involves a snobby record store clerk making fun of some patron’s purchases). I think these conceits weren’t really needed and, if anything, diverted from what he was trying to accomplish.
Also, as a former deejay, I don’t dig how Toller sets up radio to be the enemy of independent stations. Granted, some college stations are corporatized, but some (like good ol’ KVRX) fight hard to stay local and independent. Give them some love! They’re part of community-building too!
But my big feminist itch was WHERE WERE THE WOMEN IN THIS DOCUMENTARY? Seriously. There were only two women interviewed in the entire documentary (one of whom co-owned Trash American Style, a record store in Danbury, Connecticut — I took off my heels and ran barefoot and was still late to the screening, so help me out with her name). I can rattle off the names of least four past and present lady record store clerks within my friend group. And there have gotta be some record stores run by women (if you know of any, or shop at these places, lemme know — I’ll make those stores top priority on my at-this-point hypothetical record store tour). Hell, I’d be cool with some fellow lady music geeks digging through some crates and talking about records they like on camera. And if Thurston Moore gets to be a talking head, why can’t Kim Gordon? I’m not suggesting something as gross as a “Women and Record Stores” documentary — just integrate us into the damn conversation.
This, of course, doesn’t even get into how Caucasian this documentary is, once again emphasizing that music geekery is a white man’s game. If you object to this representation, let Toller know how you feel.
