The Sensational Big M.R. and His All Bitchin’ All Stud All Stars (Click here for full size)
It's Record Store Day today, and it got me thinking. I've been to a lot of record stores and have had a lot of record store experiences. By far, the event that still amuses me to no end is the day that me and about eight other guys went into a record store and shoplifted. Let me clarify: we didn't shoplift a record. We literally shoplifted a shop.
It was about 1979 and the record store was Monty Rockers, run by one of the scenes more colorful figures (and everybody's cool older brother), Dan McLain. He was a musician and scene ringleader, and a partner in the record store. Few people realized that the store was not wholly owned by him, because his partner was the money man and never, ever, there. Dan was the music brains, and what he lacked in business acumen, he made up for in his contagious enthusiasm for music. (I once saw him get an entire party singing along with "Man Smart, Woman Smarter" by Harry Belafonte. With every "That's right! The Woman is-uh-Smart-er!" his beer would be raised, and his arm would swing, anointing everybody who was shouting along).
After a year or two of struggling, his partner had enough of McLain's relaxed style of business and decided that he would take control of the store. So, he had the locks changed and he hired someone to work the store. All was in place for a takeover, or so he must have thought. But he was dealing with McLain, someone much more likable and, for many, the reason they shopped at that particular record store in the first place.
So McLain figured, without finances, he would still need some sort of leverage to keep the store. The best solution he could come up with was to simply take the store back. In broad daylight. So, he rounded up about eight or ten guys and had us all meet at "the Meade house", where a handful of them lived. I arrived on my Honda 90 and passed out "M.R. Task Force" badges. Some of the guys had baseball bats, so they were cast as the heavies. And I do mean cast. This was a rag tag group of music freaks and most were not all that tough. But the guy working at the store didn't know that. He's never seen any of us, except McLain, so it was an opportunity for all of us to get our Eastwood rocks off.
McLain as Country Dick Montana
Soon after meeting up, we got into a fleet of vans and trucks and drove to the store. Once there, one of the guys with a bat when right over to the phone and cut the line. He then stood next to the incredulous new hire, and while slapping the bat to his hand said "This store belongs to a friend of mine" in a gruff Bronson-like voice. I found it hard to keep from laughing, because the guy with the bat was so far removed from tough guy, I was unsure if he could pull it off (forgetting that he was in a SNL-like comedy group and fully capable of keeping in character).
We loaded up racks and records, and while we couldn't get everything, we were all knowledgeable enough about music to get the good shit. The store was left with absolute crap. The sort of shit small record stores have to keep the racks filled. I have no idea what transpired in the days that followed, but McLain was able to retake control of the store and eventually found a new partner who understood his style and actually liked music.
To give you an idea how important that store was to the scene, not long after the shoplifting incident, when McLain ran into financial difficulties, a benefit spaghetti benefit/backyard concert was held. It sounds quaint, but it was a was a modern day punk rock barn raising, featuring the best bands in the scene (among them the Zeros, the Crawdaddys and the Penetrators). That store was genuinely loved, and not because of the inventory. Like most good record stores it was dependent on a social vibe, a secret ingredient that cannot be bought or sold, only shared.
McLain would later assemble an all star band comprised of members of San Diego bands, deemed the Sensational Big M.R. and His All Bitchin’ All Stud All Stars. A few years after that, he became "Country Dick Montana" and utilized the same musical magnetism that made the store a popular hangout to propel the Beat Farmers to semi-fame. In 1995, he died onstage from a heart attack, while doing what he did best, whipping up a frenzy.
The Sensational Big M.R. and His All Bitchin’ All Stud All Stars: Who Do You Love, Beat Generation, and Burnin' Love mp3s and lengthy story at the Che Underground
Behold the Economic Solo - another post about Dan McLain, Gene Vincent and Monty Rockers
McLain's fanzine: Snare (complete issue scan)
It was about 1979 and the record store was Monty Rockers, run by one of the scenes more colorful figures (and everybody's cool older brother), Dan McLain. He was a musician and scene ringleader, and a partner in the record store. Few people realized that the store was not wholly owned by him, because his partner was the money man and never, ever, there. Dan was the music brains, and what he lacked in business acumen, he made up for in his contagious enthusiasm for music. (I once saw him get an entire party singing along with "Man Smart, Woman Smarter" by Harry Belafonte. With every "That's right! The Woman is-uh-Smart-er!" his beer would be raised, and his arm would swing, anointing everybody who was shouting along).
After a year or two of struggling, his partner had enough of McLain's relaxed style of business and decided that he would take control of the store. So, he had the locks changed and he hired someone to work the store. All was in place for a takeover, or so he must have thought. But he was dealing with McLain, someone much more likable and, for many, the reason they shopped at that particular record store in the first place.
So McLain figured, without finances, he would still need some sort of leverage to keep the store. The best solution he could come up with was to simply take the store back. In broad daylight. So, he rounded up about eight or ten guys and had us all meet at "the Meade house", where a handful of them lived. I arrived on my Honda 90 and passed out "M.R. Task Force" badges. Some of the guys had baseball bats, so they were cast as the heavies. And I do mean cast. This was a rag tag group of music freaks and most were not all that tough. But the guy working at the store didn't know that. He's never seen any of us, except McLain, so it was an opportunity for all of us to get our Eastwood rocks off.
McLain as Country Dick Montana
Soon after meeting up, we got into a fleet of vans and trucks and drove to the store. Once there, one of the guys with a bat when right over to the phone and cut the line. He then stood next to the incredulous new hire, and while slapping the bat to his hand said "This store belongs to a friend of mine" in a gruff Bronson-like voice. I found it hard to keep from laughing, because the guy with the bat was so far removed from tough guy, I was unsure if he could pull it off (forgetting that he was in a SNL-like comedy group and fully capable of keeping in character).
We loaded up racks and records, and while we couldn't get everything, we were all knowledgeable enough about music to get the good shit. The store was left with absolute crap. The sort of shit small record stores have to keep the racks filled. I have no idea what transpired in the days that followed, but McLain was able to retake control of the store and eventually found a new partner who understood his style and actually liked music.
To give you an idea how important that store was to the scene, not long after the shoplifting incident, when McLain ran into financial difficulties, a benefit spaghetti benefit/backyard concert was held. It sounds quaint, but it was a was a modern day punk rock barn raising, featuring the best bands in the scene (among them the Zeros, the Crawdaddys and the Penetrators). That store was genuinely loved, and not because of the inventory. Like most good record stores it was dependent on a social vibe, a secret ingredient that cannot be bought or sold, only shared.
McLain would later assemble an all star band comprised of members of San Diego bands, deemed the Sensational Big M.R. and His All Bitchin’ All Stud All Stars. A few years after that, he became "Country Dick Montana" and utilized the same musical magnetism that made the store a popular hangout to propel the Beat Farmers to semi-fame. In 1995, he died onstage from a heart attack, while doing what he did best, whipping up a frenzy.
The Sensational Big M.R. and His All Bitchin’ All Stud All Stars: Who Do You Love, Beat Generation, and Burnin' Love mp3s and lengthy story at the Che Underground
Behold the Economic Solo - another post about Dan McLain, Gene Vincent and Monty Rockers
McLain's fanzine: Snare (complete issue scan)
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