14

IN WHICH… I REGRET SELLING MY VINYL SOUL FOR FILTHY LUCRE

Over the years I have acquired some now-valuable records which, when they were released, were unheralded, and easily obtained for little money, but have now been accorded cult status, and thus become sought after. A few years ago I decided the time was right to let a few of these records go. They were fetching what I thought were inflated values and, like shares and antiques, there had to be the possibility that they may begin to lose value as the generation which coveted and might still want such gems began to die out or decide they had enough records. So I sold some. Amongst those to depart were LPs by Aardvark (now £325), Bakerloo (£300), Fire’s The Magic Shoemaker (£600), Five Day Week Straw People (£150), Paper Bubble (£200), Someone’s Band (£600), and Titus Groan (£350). I got about 800 quid for them – all, not each!

Even so there are only two records of which I genuinely regret depriving myself. Of the two, I am slightly less distraught by my decision to make £500 quid by handing over Kaleidoscope’s justifiably legendary Faintly Blowing. This record by the British band of that name, not the US group from the late 1960s, was released on the Fontana label in 1969. This now commands between £400 and £1000 depending, according to the Rare Record Price Guide 2020, on whether the copy comes with or without ‘watermark on beginning of each side’. What, would you imagine, bestows the extra 600 quid on the value? Tricky, eh? Actually, it is the ones without watermarks which are worth more. Who knew? What I do know is that I sold my copy for £500, in 2006. So, depending on whether that had the watermarks or not, I either received a ton more than it is now worth, or £500 less. And I have not the slightest idea which one it was…

Once I sold Faintly Blowing and began regretting it, I quickly collected virtually every note recorded by Kaleidoscope at the time they were together, and much of the material recorded individually by them since. Parting company with the record alerted me fully to the talents of the band, and that may well not have happened had I held on to it. I’d have been doing so purely for the monetary value, regarding it as some kind of vinyl ISA savings account.

By far my favourite of the pair that I let go (admittedly for a pretty hefty sum) was Arcadium’s Breathe Awhile – a psych-prog or prog-psych record I took to immediately, from the first time I played and reviewed it in 1969. Why the title Breathe Awhile? That question appears to be answered by the wonderfully ‘prog’ quote from one David Groome, printed on the back cover:

‘The inheritance of future sinners and the writings of future revelations will be our final downfall. We can all worship the devil if we please but while there is still time just let us breathe awhile.’

The LP was released on the tiny Middle Earth label which produced only five records in total, and it was sent to me, along with its stablemate LP, Power of the Picts by Writing on the Wall. Or was it Writing on the Wall by Power of the Picts? I’m still not quite sure to this day. I sold that one, too, for a substantial amount (now valued at £400) but, in the case of this album, buying a ‘replacement’ CD proved adequate compensation.

The Arcadium record, though, remains intriguing and frustrating for me, to this day. A brilliant thing which stood out immediately I removed it from the packaging in which it arrived on my desk at the Weekly Post. The striking cover design is by Michael McInnerny. I later discovered that Pete Townshend credits him with helping to shape the final sound of the Tommy album through his art for its cover. For Breathe Awhile Michael came up with a painting of three naked women and two cloud-adorned silhouettes of naked women, which, of course, had little to do with my obsession with the record. On the back there are three photographs of the band by Michael H Evans. In the top one they all wear gas masks; in the second their faces are bandaged, and in the third they are smilingly showing off their shaggy hairstyles.

I managed to contact Michael McInnerny, who responded with some first-hand information:

‘The artwork was created specifically for the (Arcadium) album. The commission would have come directly from Dave Howson after he set up Middle Earth Records with Paul Waldman.

Arcadium was released in June 1969, a month after the release of Tommy by The Who. I mention this because I can only assume the shallow spatial illusion featured in the Arcadium artwork (created after I had designed the Tommy cover) was heavily influenced by the shallow sky illusion of Tommy. I can only assume the cover image attempts to present an environmental message. A loss of innocence in the Anthropocene with a world in stress.’

I can’t imagine that the record sold more than a few hundred copies when it was issued. It received very little airplay that I can recall, and certainly didn’t trouble the charts. A non-album single came out around the same time, but the quintet never followed up the LP. Although Greek ex-pat, vocalist and guitarist Miguel Sergides – inevitably known as Big Mig – wrote all the tracks, lead guitarist Bob Ellwood, whose brother Alan played keyboards, seems to have been the only member to make any subsequent impact following Arcadium’s disintegration. He turned up in the Kingdom Come group, fronted by Arthur Brown – he of the flaming headset, and ‘Fire’ hit. The very obscurity of the group and scarceness of the original issue would have acted as an inbuilt collectability factor almost immediately, particularly as, according to the usually reliable chronicler of such matters, Vernon Joynson, in his 2014 masterwork The Tapestry of Delights, ‘due to mediocre vinyl there are practically no copies to be found nowadays in truly excellent condition.’

Few others were as bowled over by Arcadium as I was. ‘Somehow lacks impact’ sniffed Melody Maker. ‘Spirited performances don’t make up for bad vocals’, harrumphed New Musical Express, while Disc damned it with faint praise as ‘not particularly outstanding… in parts monotonous.’ Despite my own rave review in the Weekly Post, it flopped, doomed to disappear almost as soon as it had surfaced… only to live on and increase steadily in value over the next 50 years as other more vaunted records became blighted by their familiarity.

Record collectors, as has become ever more obvious, hold great store by rarity and one-upmanship. ‘What? You’ve never heard of Arcadium or their one LP? Good Lord, old chap, you don’t know what you’re missing. You won’t hear it on the radio, and there are very few copies of the original record to be had, but take my word for it that it is essential listening. Of course I have a copy. Perhaps I can put it on a cassette for you if I get chance.’

I really did, and still do, love the record. I sold Breathe Awhile for £380 in 2006. It can now go for a grand. A ridiculous profit, though, for a record which cost me nothing. It went to George Dragic, of New South Wales, Australia to whom I had already sold off some lesser items. George sent me a note after he bought the record: ‘I have been after this LP for so long, so you can imagine how happy I was when you confirmed I can have it.’ Hm. And you can probably imagine how bloody happy I am now that I sold it! Payment appeared in my bank account on 13 March 2006.

I have regretted that decision to this day, and when I started writing this book, I wrote to George, from whom I had never since heard, at his Aussie address, to ask him what had become of the record. Had he sold it on? Had he kept it and looked at it but not played it, for fear of affecting the value? Or was he happily playing a record he loved without any thought of its value?

George emailed me a few weeks later. This is his precise wording and spelling:

‘I was pleasantly surprised to find your message last night. I also have to apologies to you not getting in touch earlier since i got your letter while ago but misplaced it and only come across few days ago stuck in between pages of Record Collector magazine. I still own all of the records i have purchase from you and i will never sell any of them. i don’t play them as much as i used to in fact most of my playing time is in the car listening CD’s or CD’Rs or at home u-tube or diskog I still regularly buy LP’s from all over the world and occasionally trade with few dealers i know from the old days. Good like with you book sounds very interesting. Are you still selling some of your collection and do you have anything at the moment? Please let me know.

All the best from now.

George’

I was very pleased to hear he still owns Breathe Awhile. And somehow reassured to learn that although the record had gone halfway around the world it hadn’t then been passed on like an unwanted pet and subjected to different homes which might not have appreciated it as much as both George and I did. He may not have enough time to devote to his hobby, but George is still thinking like a collector. Note how he closes by asking whether I had any other records I’d sell him!

It was fascinating to read about how George, originally, I think, from Serbia, got into record collecting, which appears to have been via a blade! He told me, again using his own spelling and wording:

‘Don’t actually remember what was firs LP I have bought but remember trading nice knife for double LP by Grand Funk “Live” US pressing all scratched but living in Belgrade in communist country did not have much choice. People use to travel and bring records from western Europe so I was able to get few gems at the time (Late ‘70’s/’80’s). Moving to Australia in ‘85 was another chapter in my collecting but never got serious till I come across first price guide and all those books about psych/prog ‘60’s/’70’s music and obscure bands like Arcadium itself (OZ pressing exist). Another moment was when I took box full of LP’s to local record fair and got cleaned out in 5 minutes by dealers before door even open for the punters. Everyone was dumping record collection at the beginning of ‘90’s but now vinyl is bigger then ever and with ever rising prices for primo collectables market is stronger then ever.

PS if you in Birmingham make sure you visit Psychotron records and say hello to Pete. Used to trade with him heavily and even got DARK and 1st COMPLEX from him 20 years ago.’

Pete at Psychotron subsequently told me he remembered George, adding that he was ‘rather busy with a 5000 LP collection I just bought.

I shan’t be repeating this tracking-down process for any of the other records I ill-advisedly sold. Hearing from George that he too has benefited by association with Arcadium represents closure for me and I have now almost come to terms with, and can just about live with, that fateful decision. The £380 George sent me is still in one of my bank accounts. I never did anything specific with it. I do still play the CD of the record. I even bought myself a new reissue of it, so that at least I have the cover to look at when listening, and even though it has suffered one of those fashionable remasterings, it is still a great piece of work – and the new issue also included a bonus single, on which there is a previously unissued demo of the album track, ‘Poor Lady’.

I have even seen – and been sorely tempted by – genuine original copies of the LP offered for sale. But I know full well, if I bought another original copy, I still would not feel that I had my own record back. The only one which would really allow me to breathe awhile, and conclude that I was properly reunited with the record would be the one I sold in the first place to George. Nothing else can replace it in my heart of hearts. So, if, somehow, George, you ever happen to read this book and still have the record – I am willing to pay you £1000 to reclaim it.

Now, a change in atmosphere as I introduce you to the most influential second-hand record shop I ever frequented, where I bought not only Kaleidoscope’s ‘Faintly Blowing’, but hundreds of lesser LPs…