> am i the only one or did the drums section have a very cool smell to it....?
Falling Do Ha, ha, ha, I never thought of it before, but yes! It must be the combination out-gassing of the fresh wraps and lacquers! Maybe it's a paint-high!
That was a funny observation, Gary.
John
Steve - Do you remember the wedding hall on 97th st. The Manor? My store was just off the corner of 97th St. opposite the Manor. There was a really cool rehearsal studio two blocks south of me on 95th St. called, Nightwing Studios. Did you ever play there? I spent buku time in that place and I was close friends with Terry Donelly the owner. She was quite the fox too! My store was called 'Flashback Music' and featured vintage drums, guitars, basses and tube amplifiers. I had a small but loyal customer base. A lot of local collectors used to buy from me. Man, you had to see some of the drum kits that came through my little shop! Blow your mind.JohnPS - You're going to like this... three of the cops from the 103rd used to live in my store! They'd set the radio down, pick up a guitar and play. I had to ask them to please get the f'k out sometimes because they were scaring away customers. People were afraid to come into the store because they didn't know if I was being busted, or what was going on. Some long hair kid would peep in the door, see two or three cops sitting there and then they'd remember that joint they had in their pocket, turn around and walk away hoping nobody had noticed them. :p
The Manor....yeah I remember that place and that studio....i did jam a few times in that place with some High school buddies that lived in Jamaica and Springfield Gardens.My buddy Neil,was especially a great bass player,and his friend John,who was blind,was a great guitar player.
Memories.Gertz department store,Macys where my parents bought their Hi-Fi.....the DMV on Suptin Blvd where they hired the nastiest women they could find ....LOL and the draft board/selective service bureau on the avenue where I got my draft card..Those were the days .Joints in your pocket........man who didn't smoke in those days......even the cops...LOL
Steve B
Man, I only wish I had experiences like that from childhood or my teens. Sounds wonderful.
I moved around a lot as a kid, mostly in smaller towns, and the small music stores of my youth were overpriced, understocked, and staffed by either grumpy old kid-haters or (near the slightly larger towns) snotty frustrated rock stars.
Everything of second-line quality and full list price.
Great places to find the Hondo Strat copy of your dreams for $375, or a set of slightly rusty electric strings for $7.95. Pair of bowed Pro-Marks for $11.
They basically made their money on parents buying their kids' first instruments. Either band instruments or holiday present rock or folk instruments. If you walked in there and they sized you up as someone they could not definitely make a big sale to that day, you were either invisible or watched like a hawk like you were going to break or steal something.
Forget being able to try out instruments unless you could convince them that you were ready to choose TODAY from their (invariably meager) selection. You want to check out a few instruments, then go home and decide which one you want to save up for, or tell your parents which one you want for Christmas? Don't waste my time.
I still remember taking a trip to Atlanta with my mother in the late '70's, and we happened to pass by a store (probably like the ones you all are talking about) that actually had real Fender guitars for sale, and I took a look at the marked prices and thought I was dreaming. My mouth literally came open; I just could not believe how reasonably priced these instruments were, and actual Fenders, like the guys in the magazines played, not Univox copies of Fenders.
Hearing about these places that were nurturing community music centers always just amazes me. Sounds magical. Where were they when I was growing up? Larger towns, perhaps, where there was more money?
-Erik
______
Early '70's Slingerland New Rock #50 in blue agate (20-16-13-12)
Late '50's WFL Swingster/Barrett Deems in black/gold Duco
'70's Slingerland Gene Krupa Sound King COB
early '70's Ludwig Acrolite
'80's Ludwig Rocker II 6 1/2" snare
Rogers Supreme Big "R" hi hat
> Man, I only wish I had experiences like that from childhood or my teens. Sounds wonderful.
Looking back now with much nostalgia I can say it was a wonderful thing. The experiences you describe are pretty much what everybody runs into these days. Hence my nostalgia for the old days when places like Bath existed here and there. Small family owned businesses are a thing of the past. The big-box stores ate them all up and put them out of business. I knew when I started the thread that there wouldn't many of them, but I also knew there had to be 'some' music stores that were just like the place I'm reminiscing about. If you read some of the posts, it turns out there were others! Bath music wasn't unique.
Phil & Mary were not called, mom & pop... it was 'momma' & 'poppa'! Terms of endearment. We all (their regular customers,) loved those people like they were family. R.I.P.
John
This is an old post from a guy called, Big Beat from 2010 over at DFO.
"It was Marion, not Mary :) Phil and Marion Castellano. I knew them very well, it was our last real mom-and-pop music store here in Brooklyn. It was a great place, kinda messy and chaotic, but if you were a regular, they would treat you like family. I would come in for some drum heads, and Marion would offer me chicken soup from her little kitchen in the back of the store :) After she died, the city actually named that section of Bath Avenue after her. The store was a community landmark of sorts, had been around since the 1950's. Still looked like it until the end, it was never once renovated. Phil died a couple of years after that. Their son tried to run the place for a while, but closed within a year. He wasn't really interested. Their grandson, Richie, played guitar with Blue Oyster Cult for a while. "
My memory sucks. 'Marion' it was!!!!! I never called her, 'Marion' to me she was always just, 'Momma'. Big Beat remembers the chicken soup! God, I miss that place and those people.
John
