I invented a new game last night. It’s called, “Buy the only used copy of Sonic Youth’s Daydream Nation at your local indie record shop, then watch all hell break loose when you lay it down on the checkout counter.” Not the catchiest title, I know, but sometimes it helps to be literal. The first round went something like this:
Saleshipster 1: Oh, man, excellent choice. Great, great record.
Me: No kidding. Lotsa good music for not much money.
S1: True. This might just be my all-time favorite album. Top ten, no doubt.
[Overhearing this, the other saleshipsters behind the counter turn quickly to join the game.]
Saleshipster 2: Daaaaydreeeeeeam Nation.
Saleshipster 3: I was here when that was returned. I gave that dude so much crap.
S2: [Now with some energy] Who sells Daydream Nation? Who does that? I mean…
S3: He said he “didn’t get it.”
S1 and S2 [in unison]: No shit.
S3: “Too many swirling guitars.”
S2: [Now incredulous] Swirling guitars? Swirling guitars? What does that mean, you know? [With contempt, and under his breath] Swirling guitars.
All the while, Saleshipster 1 was ringing up the rest of my purchases: The Pernice Brothers’ World Won’t End (“another great one”), Morrissey’s You are the Quarry (“of course, I mean, you’ve got to get this one”), Elton John’s Captain Fantastic & Brown Dirt Cowboy (no comment, the snob). Saleshipster 1 and Saleshipster 3 were still consoling Saleshipster 2 when I left.
By the way, don’t tell Morrissey that I was able to pick up a used copy of his new album. The guy’s got enough problems. Somebody needs a hug.