Record collecting is no doubt something that has the potential to quickly escalate into a dangerous obsession. Like from drug addictions and women, this obsession can creep its way into the subconscious and reappear in our dreams. I'm not sure whether to call these instances of delusions welcomed good dreams, or hellish nightmares. Like many nightmares, which recur, there is always the same mythical record shop in my dreams, in an unknown city which seems to be laid out similar to downtown Victoria. I seem to associate die cut picture discs hung all over the walls. They carry a lot of punk and alternative music, but its split up and arranged in some unknown sporadic manner, and whenever I think I'm finished shopping, I find a new bin.
My most memorable dream of this record store was finding Minor Threat - Out Of Step, but an old Canadian pressing, with a maple leaf on the lower front cover. I guess I should also mention that I have almost every pressing of this record, including the UK and German import. This Canadian pressing was obviously a huge deal, not only because I didn't own it, but I didn't even realize that it existed. Once I woke up, I was delirious, and it wasn't clear whether I found it, owned it, or if a Canadian pressing even existed. Once I began to reach full consciousness, I realized that there was no Canadian pressing, and I didn't own it. Rude, rude awakening.
A more recent dream was set in a Value Village. Normally, in conscious reality, I don't have the patience to flip through the bins, but in this subconscious paradise, I found a sealed copy of some rare New York Dolls record, which also doesn't exist, but had a colour scheme similar to this Tom Petty record. Remember, dreams don't need to make sense. Anyways, the clever record collectors at Value Village were aware of the value of this record and had it priced at 49 dollars. I peeled off that price tag and found a tag underneath listed at 2 dollars. Bingo bingo bango.
Working on this zine project has been quite exciting for me, and constantly brainstorming new ideas has made me toss and turn in bed unable to sleep. I recently sold some rare NOFX records, 8 of the original 7" of the month club releases on colour. The guy I sold them to referred to these records as his white whale, the ones that had been keeping him up at night.
All in all, it seems records are unhealthy to anyone attempting to maintain a regular sleep pattern.