You go into Revolution, Canberra's only serious second-hand CD store, once every week or so and trawl through the "Just Added" bins. You go for months without finding anything worth a second look. (It's a useful barometer, though: the shelves at the moment are full of copies of the latest Coldplay.) Then you go in one day (viz.: yesterday) and leave with not one but six purchases. In a moment, what you bought and why. But first, what you left behind:
Robert Wyatt, "Rock Bottom": because you picked it up, put it down conspicuously at the front of a heap of other discs so as not to forget about it, and then forgot about it. It is more than likely still to be there next visit, however; you can't imagine the post-Canterbury scene to be a hot topic of conversation in Canberra this winter.
David Bowie, "Stage": because something had to give, and because you are punting on it turning up, as did the contemporaneously reissued "David Live", at the local library.
On the other hand, you bought:
The Sea and Cake, "One Bedroom": because, even though you know nothing about this one, you once borrowed their earlier album "Oui" from the library and quickly fell in love with it. (Cue voice from back of own head: so why didn't you buy the copy of "Oui" that was also on sale?)
Ron Sexsmith, "Retriever": because it's Ron, and no further explanation is therefore required.
"Hustle: Reggae Disco": because it's on Soul Jazz, and because it dovetails two of your passions. To be honest, you aren't expecting all that much from it, but you are secretly hoping to be pleasantly surprised.
Beck, "Guero": because Sasha Frere-Jones is more often right ("Entertainment"; "Madvillainy"; "London Calling"; "Remain In Light") than wrong (M.I.A., Keren Ann); and because you have learnt long ago not to trust "critics" regarding Beck. To this day, almost nobody gives "Midnite Vultures" the credit it deserves, and you need to see why this new one should be any different.
The Meters, "Good Old Funky Music": because the Meters are sadly absent from your collection, and this looks like as good a place to start as any, in that it includes "Look-Ka Py Py".
Ry Cooder and Manuel Galban, "Mambo Sinuendo": because your wife couldn't get enough of this when you borrowed it from the library a while back, and because of the close-up cover photo of the tailfin of a big, late-50s American car.
Which should keep you occupied for a little while at least.
