Rich

“This shelf is an absolute fucking monument to stadium rock with a severe case of duplicate syndrome. Five hundred and seventy-nine records and fifty-five of them are sitting there multiple times because apparently one copy of Dark Side Of The Moon or Sticky Fingers was never enough to satisfy the itch. The seventies built the foundation here with two hundred and forty-three slabs of vinyl, backed by a solid one hundred and fifty from the eighties. You have every single Van Halen record from the debut straight out to Balance without a single missing link in the chain, which is a glorious sight. Meanwhile, Bob Ludwig and George Marino worked the lathe and the console across dozens of your records without you ever having to buy a single solo release from them. The through-line is clear: massive guitars, massive drums, and an absolute refusal to let go of the heavy hitters of classic rock radio. Yet you have records like Little Feat sitting unplayed for half a year while you stare at three identical pressings of The Captain And Me. Wake up. Spin the buried treasure, stop buying duplicates of Pink Floyd, and let the rest of the crate breathe.”