We just bought one of those dream home lottery tickets. I never like the lottery homes, and would always opt to sell the damn thing and get something more modest, built in the ’50s or ’60s. There would be a lot of money left over. For example, this year’s dream home is worth something like $3.1 million. The house I’d want would be around $800K, and I’d have no mortgage. That leaves at least $2 million for me to buy a vinyl press and start my own record label/record store. That’s the actual dream, related to the “dream home.”
With two schmill, I could be a discount Canadian Jack White — a recording artist with a record label and shop. I also know the kind of people to involve a recording studio in the equation as well. But the thing which really excites me about the record label is doing something Jack does with his Third Man Records: He re-releases albums on vinyl which are no longer available, and makes them sound and look incredible. My goodness, how I would love to do this. There are so many albums you can’t get on vinyl. Sometimes those albums have been out of print for ages, and sometimes — with ’90s albums — they were never pressed on vinyl, ever.
It would be cool to target some of them and give these albums well-deserved, renewed exposure.. I’ll go through some of the ones I’ve encountered, usually by seeking them and finding they don’t exist, or hardly exist.
Straitjacket Fits | Straitjacket Fits (1998)
The New Zealand band put out this 1+1 CD compilation in their home country in 1998, and it was re-issued in 2000. Both editions are on Flying Nun Records — which still exists, owned by co-founder Roger Shepherd, and artist Ben Howe. The compilation was never issued on vinyl, and it contains a song I’d really like to have: Brittle, which I first heard on a 1993 compilation called No Alternative, and later performed on Late Night With Conan O’Brien. The band never issued the track on a studio album, apart from these two compilations. Their own isn’t on vinyl at all, while No Alternative was actually put out on 180-gram vinyl on the occasion of its 20th anniversary. The problem is the thing costs around $150. One could argue the price is not unreasonable, considering who’s on it — Beastie Boys, Bob Mould, Patti Smith, Pavement, Soundgarden, Urge Overkill, Smashing Pumpkins, The Verlaines, Uncle Tupelo and Nirvana (among others). But if you just want Straitjacket Fits, you’re out of luck. Heck, the track Brittle isn’t even on Spotify.
Billy Preston | Club Meetin’ (1966)
After splitting from Little Richard‘s backing group, Preston aligned himself with a young Sly Stone and made two live albums in 1966. Wildest Organ In Town is still widely available, but the first one — Club Meetin’ — was recalled by Capitol shortly after its release. Surprisingly, this album is on Spotify, and you’ll see by listening that it is far superior to Wildest Organ In Town, even though both are live albums, probably from the same venue. I actually wrote to Jack White and told him he needs to get the rights for Club Meetin’.
Rab Noakes | Demos And Rarities Vol. 2 (2013)
It’s weird to find a 10 year-old album released on CD only, but I suppose this was an indie release on Noakes’ own Neon Records. For example, of my own 10 indie releases since 2016, only four were pressed on vinyl.
The Scottish singer-songwriter died in 2022. This compilation is primarily made up of songs he demoed in the company of friend and former bandmate Gerry Rafferty. Noakes was briefly a member of Stealers Wheel when the band first formed in 1972. He also was in Lindisfarne for a bit. But primarily he was a solo artist — one with a real gift for writing folk-rock songs with catchy hooks. Nowhere is that more evident than on this compilation — like, even more than on Vol. 1.
I believe this has something to do with Rafferty. A bonafide songwriting genius, Rafferty doesn’t appear to contribute a whole lot to these songs, but when you listen to anything else in Noakes’ catalog, you can’t help but come to the conclusion that his presence and inclusion is a kind of X factor. Unlike the proper studio recordings of these songs, the ones on the compilation are bare bones and not at all dated. There are at least five or six absolutely stunningly beautiful ballads on here.
The Dinner Is Ruined | Burn Yer Dashiki (1991) / Love Songs From The Lubritorium (1993)
Bob Wiseman | Presented By Lake Michigan Soda (1991)
The Dale Morningstar-led Toronto alt-rock group The Dinner Is Ruined’s sophomore album Love Songs From The Lubritorium was their major-label debut for A&M Records. It’s one of those albums that changed my relationship with music. I first saw them when I hired Bob Wiseman to play my hometown amidst his quitting Blue Rodeo. For a few extra bucks, Bob wanted to bring along Dale, bassist Al Kelso and drummer Don Kerr to open for him. My friends and I put them up for the night and fed them vegetarian spaghetti. Bob was touring his album Presented By Lake Michigan Soda, while the Dinner were promoting their indie cassette Burn Yer Dashiki. As the Seattle grunge scene exploded, my friends and I went head over heels for Canada’s indie scene — Eric’s Trip, Art Bergmann, Rheostatics and the like. None of these albums by Bob or the Dinner is available on vinyl. They never were — just CD and cassettes. I’m actually in the process of getting a special lathe cut made of Burn Yer Dashiki to give as a gift.
The Bob Seger System | Noah (1969)
Long before The Silver Bullet Band, there was The Bob Seger System. Rather than classic fare, they played Detroit rock ’n’ roll. Seger’s first few records are simply incredible. They’re all rather rare compared to Night Moves, Stranger In Town, Against The Wind or Like A Rock, but none so much as his second LP Noah — one of two records the System put out that year. The first one, Ramblin’ Gamblin’ Man, is much easier to find due to the popularity of its title track. Incidentally, it was made popular due to its inclusion in the live album Live Bullet years later.
They’re both great, but I’ve still not managed to find a copy of Noah. It has never been reissued since 1969. Capitol Records issued four American pressings of it that year, and a fifth in Canada. But none since, probably because Seger has basically disowned his early work. Canadian copies will set you back $100 (including shipping) — and that’s not even in top shape. This is the Seger you won’t hear at any wedding or anniversary receptions. (Check out more of Seger’s greatest misses HERE.)
French Kicks | One Time Bells (2002)
The Chicago melodic rockers have a bunch of fantastic records — many of which are pretty rare and expensive on vinyl. I’m thinking particularly of my favourite one, 2004’s The Trial Of The Century. But, they never pressed any vinyl copies of this beauty at all.
John Lithgow | Singin’ In The Bathtub (1999)
That’s right — the ubiquitous (and often creepy) film and TV actor has a kids’ album. He’s got three, actually, but this one is the best, according to my partner Chelle. It was a huge hit with her kids when they were growing up. More importantly, it was a hit with her as well. That’s because she, like me, usually hates children’s music. But this isn’t your typical kids’ album. Lithgow handpicked songs where he (an adult) sounds like a kid — or sounds like how kids imagine adults should sound. This is in contrast to so many other kids albums where the songs are sung at the children.
For the most part, Lithgow is the vocalist only on these, but he does contribute lyrics here and there — and entirely wrote the song Big Kids, which is a wonderfully accurate depiction of how little kids see older kids. The chorus is “big kids scare the heck out of me.” But my favourite track on the album — sadly only available on just two CD runs and one cassette run — has got to be this masterpiece. The lyric “We hate each other very much” never fails to make my sweetie smile.
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Area Resident is an Ottawa-based journalist, recording artist, music collector and re-seller. Hear (and buy) his music on Bandcamp, email him HERE, follow him on Instagram and check him out on Discogs.
