If you are a copyright owner and believe that your copyrighted works have been used in a way that constitutes copyright infringement, here is our DMCA Notice.

« Countdown to Halloween #1 | Main | 365 Days #304 - Spooky Sound Effects (mp3s) »

October 30, 2007



Maybe you could sell all the remainders through the website. Or just give them to me.

Listener #109577

This would be so moving if it were 2000 miles closer.


*gasp*. I can sort of taste all of those ACCEPT records.


I loved it last year, well worth coming over from London for. But, that being said......I can't make it this year.

Brian Turner

I can guarantee you your Accept needs are all met there.


Looks like my back bedroom, only much, much more organized.

Station Manager Ken

One more thing about these dollar records - we're not going to bring them back to the station after this record fair - we're getting rid of them ALL this time!


Truely frightening, a fitting halloween treat. Do Tell, station manager Ken, what will be the final resting place of the dollar records that even the hardened wonkish FMU vinylphile consider unworthy? Frisbee competition into the East River? Distribution to the homeless? Bonfire of the vanity vinyl? The mind boggles, the senses reel, it might get people out there just to see the carnage. Come on peanut gallery, what would you do with ~1 ton of dead records?

Lupica not logged in

Definitely don't pass by the WFMU LP tables assuming it's all hokey Accept vinyl and Herb Alpert castaways... (Though I'm sure those make a showing). In years gone by, waaaaay before I found myself with the responsibility of running the Fair, I found some truly un-dollar bin-like records in those stacks. Lydia Lunch's "13:13", anyone?


Way back when I lived in Richmond VA there used to be the Watermelon Festival that would take place every August including vendors and rides (watermelon) and all that. The local record store, Plan 9 (still one of my favorites) would sell records for 13 cents A POUND. Well, sure, I came a way with a bunch of stinkolas; but also a few Jems like the Whiffenpoofs of Yale's 1953 class album (the Yale men's choir, if you aren't "in the know"). Oh boy, if you want to hear what the ruling elite do when they get some down time....Anyway, the cover (sorry, I have no scan of it) portrays a bunch of white white white guys in penguin suits hanging out in the middle of a snowy field eyeing a heard of sheep with a peculiar....hunger.

This is the power of cheap record buying.


great! my discography of the fixx has a couple holes in it!

Nick the Bard

Scary thing is, I know whats in every one of those boxes, and I'm not telling >;P

Mike Lupica

Nick the Bard deserves a public show of appreciation for all the hard work he's done to get WFMU's stock of used LPs into order for this year's Record Fair. God only knows what demons he's been battling off in our accursed basement... Thanks Nick!

Listener Sharon

I think Nick the Bard could make the dollar records into snack bowls. They would make fabulous premiums for the next marathon. Disclaimer: they can only be used for snacks bigger in diameter than the hole - - no pudding! Cargo Cult used to give away vinyl snack bowls at their gigs back in the day and they were quite popular. Is there an oven at 'FMU that heats up? If he starts now he could probably stock pile quite a few...

Nick the Bard

Well, it would be possible to plug up the hole, which could add to a stand of sorts to keep it more stable. True it would add to the cost, but if you use the sleeve as a base, it'd probably just be the cost of some food grade glue and/or contact paper and/or felt pads and such.


Once upon a midnight dreary, while Nick packaged, weak and weary,
many a quaint and curious albums of forgotten Gwar,
Nick was wrapping, nearly napping, when suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some gansta gently rapping, rapping at the studio door.
`'Tis some homey,' he muttered, `rapping at my studio door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Ah, distinctly he remember'd it was in the bleak October,
And each Accept vinyl record wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly he wished the morrow; - vainly he had sought to borrow
From dollar albums surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Record -
For the rare and radiant vinyl whom the DJ's named Record -
Nameless here for evermore.

And the moldy sad uncertain copies of Herb Alperts blowing, Thrilled him - filled him with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of his heart, he stood repeating
`'Tis some DJ entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late night DJ entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'


Aw man! I wish I lived in NYC, so I could go to this.


since when is bashing accept hip? own up to your acceptance of accept! i know i spent many a dirtweed brain hazed evening slouching around my 'hood w/ restless and wild pumping through my walkman...

where were you in '83? i was down w/ udo! (blame the drugs...)

The comments to this entry are closed.