Here's a novel idea. While most bands are trying to get their songs into our heads, our boys from down the road--InnerPartySystem--are trying to get into our ... bellies?

The debut single from the Reading, PA group recently hit the UK. But when it did, it looked like it had come from the Willy Wonka factory instead of an Island Records factory.

Made entirely of chocolate, you can listen to "Don't Stop" -- the first single to come from IPS's upcoming full length debut on your conventional turntable, lift the needle and take the record off, and then eat it in all it's chocolaty melty goodness.

Yes. Seriously.

But chances of scoring one of these highly limited edition singles is about zip. Only 100 copies were made and they were shipped to UK shores.

No word yet on whether their full length in the fall will be filled with peanut butter or caramel, but I'm looking forward to it.

Phoenixville's The Creep Store

My journey through the narrowing maze of PA's record stores begins not with a whimper, but with a bold buzzing beacon of truth and soul revivalism. It does not begin in the dusty aisles of a crumbling record store terrified of whether it will still be open in 2 years. No ma'am, it starts inside a tiny, cozy house of music--and with one album in particular that has set me hot on my path to set the record straight.

"By the year 2006, the music known today as the blues will exist only in the classical records department of your local library."

These were the first words to come to me through headphones after I made my way to The Creep Store in Phoenixville, the first record store stop on my "For The Record" tour.

My rickety ol' turntable read these oddly prophetic words from the thin grooves of a vinyl record cut 30 years ago (1978) by a duo of alter-egoed SNL comedians who bravely ventured out on a mission to resurrect a fading tradition of gritty blues rock and blue-eyed soul in a time when popular music was sinking into a toxic cesspool of recycled electronic hash and disco. Catchy (but altogether lifeless) music was taking form and becoming the norm. Something needed to be done. (anyone else feel like 2008 is sinking into the same state of affairs?)

Of course, I'm talking about The Blues Brothers; Elwood J. Blues and Joliet Jake E. Blues (or Dan Akroyd and John Belushi, respectively). And the album is their 1978 debut, "Briefcase Full of Blues."

I stumbled upon this little gem record at The Creep Store for $8 while quickly fingering my way through their small selection. The moment I touched it, cigarette smoke filled my head. I heard harmonicas wail. And then, a great burst of sunlight blasted through the window and shown on me, and I felt like I was Jake in the Blues Brothers movie when he had his epiphany to get the band back together.

Unfortunately James Brown wasn't singing gospel at the front of the store, and I didn't bullet down the aisle doing wicked back flips. But I knew than that my mission to uncover the stories of every record store I can this summer was not all that different from The Blues Brothers.

So perhaps, I too, am on a mission from God. (Which means I can run from the cops all I want!)

This 10-track live recording, and debut of the brothers may mean little to 21st century popular culture, but at it's time of release it accomplished their flagship mission to bring soul and blues back to the masses. The album topped the Billboard 200 sales chart, and the single "Soul Man" reached #4 on the Billboard Hot 100. People heard what they wanted them to hear.

But don't get the wrong idea about The Creep Store. This ain't no house of blues. The fact that I found the Blues Brothers hanging out there in the Phoenixville store's vinyl collection was more of a freak accident than a likely one.

The store is actually a supplemental store to West Chester's Creep Records, which is the label that such bands as Guns On The Run, The LadybiRdS, and Danger O's all call home. I would venture to guess the store began as a way for the label to get their CD's in a record store? Clever.

What?! Punk is supposed to be wickedly unapologetic! Blasphemy!

And given the state of the music business, you might be wandering what these guys are doing just opening a record store now while others are closing up their doors all across the nation? Well that's the devoted character I like about this store. They already know the state of business in music is whacked. It isn't run by washed up nostalgic dogs. It's simply run by your run of the mill dudes. But they like music and they like music stores...so...why not?

And to compliment the musical leanings of the Creep label's releases, most of the libraried music you'll find for sale--NEW and USED--at the Creep is of the usual run of underground staples--The Clash, Social Distortion, NOFX, Gorilla Biscuits, etc. But there are tiny dashes of everything else in the alternaverse too. They had the new Coldplay, Wolf Parade, some Metallica, Burnt By The Sun, Simon & Garfunkle, and on and on. They have about an equal amount of CDs and vinyl.

Less is more. The Creep's stash of new and used vinyl and CD.

But be weary, the inventory is hyper small for what you might expect from your typical new and used record store. But there's a perfectly good reason for that. It's NOT your typical record digs.

When I went back for a 2nd visit and some photos, co-owner Arik Victor (who mostly runs the store) told me the store isn't the only thing they got going on--obviously, they have a label to run, among other things. The store exists because it's something more for them to do with music. They don't want to compete with the big mall retailers. They just want to hang out listening to music all day and selling a couple records to a couple fellow music heads.

"I'd really just like for 200 people around here to know that there's a record store here," he told me.

And normal independent record store rules do apply; they will get you most anything you specially request that you can't find on their shelves without charging you the shipping costs that you'd get from ordering off online or with eBay. Bring in a list if you have to.

The other plus to keeping the shelves a little bare boned is that the guy behind the counter always knows what he has in the store. He knows if there's a little gem stashed away in the vinyl section or not. He knows if he has the new Lil Wayne CD sitting back there for you or not when you stroll in and ask if he has it. You don't ever have to worry about getting lost or confused. It's incredibly straight forward and a well kept atmosphere.

Personally, my type of music store is the one where you want to be lost. The endless tomb of endless music. Where used records could have sat on the floor for the past 3 decades before I stumbled upon it. The sort of spot where you end up digging through piles and piles of lost music that was once treasured by some total stranger, and you end up doing it all day, and before you know it it's time for dinner and they're closing up the store. The Creep Store is not this type of place. You come in, you get what you want, and check out.

But limited shelf selection or no, you can't complain considering there is no other music store in the local area. With digs like The Steel City Coffeehouse and Molly Maguire's along the main drag in the Phoenixville 'renaissance,' the town was so overdue for music retail.

And music is certainly not all that the Creep sells. They got some books, a colorful selection of shirts and some turntables as well as some other little 'scene' accessories.

And what about pricing? Well, you can easily walk in with 20 bucks and walk out a content little fella with a handful of goodies.

My first trip there, I browsed through their whole CD and vinyl collection in about 10 minutes and paid $23 for:

Blues Brothers - Suitcase Full of Blues (used 12 inch) - $8

Sonic Youth - Daydream Nation (used CD) - $7
What can I say, I'm a terrible music fan for not getting this landmark album until now. And considering how much I love The Pixies, I really don't know why I never invested in this late 80's noise rock masterpiece. It's probably one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. And it absolutely is the cement on the road that drove us to the music of the early 90s.

Tokyo Police Club - Elephant Shell (used CD) - $7
I dug their EP, and been meaning to pick this up so I couldn't resist when I saw it here for cheap.

Of course I said I made a 2nd visit, and I additionally picked up Social Distortion's classic self titled album on CD (because it's my favorite 'hang out drinking at the bar' album and I don't own it), as well as the Sonic Youth book "Confusion Is Next" because I now perpetually hate myself for ignoring the band until now.

As for The Creep, all I got to say is, about time we got a store close to home. Thanks.

But this is only the first chapter of this journey of mine. There are many more record stores around PA for me to dive into, and get lost in. Stops in Kutztown, West Chester, Philly, and Allentown are all on the horizon.

I got a full tank of gas, half a pack of cigarettes, it's dark, and I'm wearing sunglasses. Let's go.

CREEP RECORDS is located at 239 Bridge Street, Phoenixville PA, 19460. You can reach them via email at info@creepindustries.com and by phone at 484-927-4390. For photos from the store's grand opening, check this blog out. They are currently open 7 days a week. They got a Myspace too.

This blog just became my favorite site, ever.

www.failblog.org

It's hard not to point out the things that make us all different. But it's even harder to ignore the few intrinsic things that make us all one. Today's video is one of those things, with a little dude named Matt Harding who left his job as a video game developer to spend the past 14 months dancing like a white fool around the world at some of the coolest and most surreal landmarks and locales imaginable. And the world joined him.

Just try to watch this video without smiling to yourself. It rules. Ladies and gentlemen, "Where The Hell is Matt?"



What's more, this wasn't Matt's first international dance off. Here's the first one, just as special, considered one of the best original videos to ever be made for YouTube.



And aw heck, just for fun, check Mario get his Tony Manero on.

photo copyright of NY Times

There are two things I have a rough time getting enough of. Record stores and road trips.

And with traditional record shops closing up all over the place, I figure I got work to do. (we won't even get into gas prices for the road trip part.)

This 2006 article from the NY times probably illustrates the music store landscape best.

I, of course, do not envision a day when music will be all download, or a day when record stores will cease to exist. But the fundamental need for them is one that is quickly shrinking, and has only gotten gloomier since the above mentioned article was written.

I understand this better than most, because I work for a newspaper, a business with a future not all that different from music business.

Nevertheless, my personal mantra comes from a little movie called Almost Famous.

"If you ever get lonely, just go to the record store and visit your friends."

To me, there is nothing like hanging out at a record shop. Even if I don't plan on buying something, it is the most beautiful place to get lost and sink into. It is full of my friends. The dusty smell of used vinyl, the shop clerk painted in the sweetest tattoo art you've ever seen, obscure acid jazz bopping over the soundsystem, or a random Dylan bootleg. People on the floor digging through the bargain boxes looking for a buried gem, discussions on the artistic merits of a certain artist sail through the aisles. You hear the constant click of plastic cases slinking against one another as a browser browses. It all dovetails like nothing else could. It's my type of place with my type of people--random folks hunting for something, even if they don't know what they are hunting for.

It's a totally gypsy way of thinking about it, but it's true. A music shop is the one place you are safe from anything in the outside world. Back in the 70's, when music was more of a spinal chord in culture, these sort of places were bedrocks for entire communities. Going to the store was like going to the show.

Now where do kids go? The mall? To each others house to play video games? Nowhere? Maybe I'm a bit overly nostalgic for that old time vein of what a record store once meant, but I think there is something eternally special--and valuable--about these places, and refuse to watch them disappear from the face of our culture.

And whenever I read about another shop closing, I honestly feel like someone just demolished a house I used to live in to put up a new Walmart.

Lots of great stores have been sucked into the black hole of the 21st century digital age in the past few years and closed doors, but the map remains dotted with plenty of these musical havens, these safe houses for musical wackos like me.

I plan to visit each and every one of these in the coming months, to dig on their digs. I'll document my visit to each and every one right here on the blog, with photos, some history and quirks, reviews, and lists of what I bought. (be wary, nothing is off limits when I purchase used records. I've shelled out for everything from Muddy Waters to silly compilations to David Hasslehoff.)

Why? Well, it's an excuse to jump in on the 2 things I love. AND these are places that, quite ironically, need to be heard to keep making noise. I'd be happy to be your hearing aid.

I will go for A SPIN and visit one record store per week, starting this weekend.

And what better place to start than the new one that just popped up right down the road in Phoenixville--The Creep Industries Store.

Stay tuned for "For The Record" features every week, folks.

Ai'ght, my nose has been away from the rabbit hole too long. Thanks again to all those who showed interest and/or bought themselves the Songs For Relay mix. Back to the grind.

And what better way to suit back up than by rattling off some recent bits and pieces of I've seen, and heard... from Johnny Rotten.

Allow me to pose a conundrum. When the sole album your group put to tape is vastly considered the flagship recording of an entire underground genre that celebrated the essence and demolition of rock n' roll while slamming conventional rock with a battering ram between the eyes, followed by taking a casual wizz on it's moaning corpse, what's the most ironically punk thing you could possibly do while peddling quickly past middle age? Say you ain't punk, never were punk, and never want to be punk.

Or, you could say Coldplay are really just a bunch of bloaks who wear anoraks.

Hi, I'm in Coldplay. I think The Sex Pistols are a bunch of guys who wear pink lingerie.

Oh, and Johnny Rotten also admits that the Pistols have discussed the possibility of a second album. But without Sid Vicious' horrendous bass playing on board, such a Pistols recording would not likely sound awful enough for me to want to hear it.

The reaction I've gotten to this Songs For Relay charity mix has been nothing short of incredible.

But like the highly unorganized goof nut I am, I also had no working system to process your demand. I considered setting up a PayPal for online orders, but I'd rather keep the donations flowing directly through me with everything written out to The American Cancer Society.

HERE IS HOW TO GET YOUR COPY!

simply send a check for $5 (or $5 per CD if want a bunch) to:

The Mercury
ATTN: Chris March / Songs For Relay
24 N. Hanover Street
Pottstown, PA 19464

(or drop it off at The Merc in an envelope to my attn, if you like)

Make the check payable to "American Cancer Society"
Include your return address and I'll mail you out the mix (or mixes) ASAP, and don't worry about any shipping charges or anything, I'll cover it. I encourage you to buy a handful and give them out to friends, cancer survivors, and cancer fighters. There is still no more personal gift than music, and this mix has been made with that exact intention. So thanks for your support and for listening.

If you have any questions pertaining to the mix, leave a comment or email cmarch@pottsmerc.com.

For more information and tracklisting, see previous post below.

I am selling a charity compilation CD for $5 a piece, with 100% of the proceeds going directly to the American Cancer Society. It is entirely homemade and each song was selected carefully for this collection. Please email me at c.march@hotmail.com for your copy or more information.

And hey, the postage fee is even on me (as were the CD's and labor), because that's how much I care about this thing.

The songs are all profound displays of heart, unwavering courage, and an enduring human spirit. If Relay For Life organizations around the world are dedicated to a common dream of surviving and defeating cancer, this collection of music is devoted to Relay For Life and celebrating our very lives, as well as the right to be heard. I trust, in some manner, these songs can change your life, at least if you keep those who have been touched by cancer in mind while listening to it, or your own personal struggles with anything that has somehow devastated your life.

If that doesn't convince you to scrounge up 5 lousy bucks to give to cancer aid and research for some really good and dedicated music, please, read on. I'll convince you.

(queue the long-winded writer's story of why and how this all came about)

***

I never ever set out with the intention to work at a newspaper. My parents, who met at this very newspaper and remain in the business, told me since I was just a toddler to never ever ever get into the newspaper world. Ever. (Turns out, I listen to music; not parents.)

And truthfully, I never even set out to be a writer. It's become a passion, but was never an intention.

These are things that just kinda ... happened. They landed in my lap as I funneled myself through the process of growing up, and that was that.

Life is made of things people don't intend on. That is what life is: Car crashes, wrong turns, pregnancies, trophies, friends from unlikely places, business cards, asthma, bullies, birth marks, advertisements along the road, love, bad kissers, congratulations, drunken nights at the bar, war, high fives from total strangers...cancer.

You get these things, you deal with them, and you go where they take you. You can let them rule you and curb you, or you can find your way back to the path.

One thing I did set out to do, however, was change the world with music. A song at a time.

That has always been my dream. Even when the only music I owned were MC Hammer and Bryan Adams cassette tapes (still got 'em too). But I don't mean creating music (it's not pretty when I do); it's about hunting out, digging up, and unearthing the music inside of every one of us. Songs are not 99 cent products or catchy choruses to me; they are more like people. Some of my best friends are songs. When I hear a really good song, I think "I want that song played at my funeral."

Green Day's "When I Come Around" got me through high school, gave me a mirror to see who I really was.

Over It's entire album "Timing is Everything" shot me in arm with a fiery dose of excitement and life.

Bob Dylan's "It's Alright Ma, I'm Only Bleeding" kept me from ever being homesick.

"These Arms of Mine" was my first kiss.

I fell in love with The Beatles' "I Will."

I want to align the world with such songs, to see us all in absolute harmony singing along the "na na na na na" part of "Hey Jude" together in a galactic stadium, arms in the air, swaying back and forth, tears in our eyes. Not just singing the song--but becoming the song, being the song. To turn the world into a song, for us to be music, spinning endlessly through outer space.

Total and complete harmony, that is my dream. It's a bit too John Lennon for some people, but you have to admit, it's a way cool dream.

It's as left field a dream as dreaming there will come a day when cancer does not exist. But it's a dream that pulls me forward in life just as much as The Relay For Life pulls cancer survivors forward, upward and onward.

I think if there's one thing everyone in the world can agree on, it's that cancer totally sucks, and this disease is the one absolute enemy we all have in common. Our fight against cancer IS a song. It's our magnum opus. It is one of the few things that brings the entire human race together in harmony, this battle against cancer. And that is something I want to be instrumental in.

I thought of this last Wednesday, 3 days before the Pottstown Relay For Life. As soon as I thought that thought, I made the decision to make a CD for this cause, and to use it to help raise some more money for this little town's Relay For Life.

This meant picking good songs (and more than that, the RIGHT songs), getting permission to use these songs, assembling each song perfectly into the tracklist so that each song hit it's stride at the right time for the listener, buying a large quantity of blank CD's and CD sleeves, burning the mix--one CD-R at a time--on my brother's laptop (because mine is incapacitated), and finally writing out the tracklisting on the CD sleeve with a purple pen for each and every copy.

I did all of this by Saturday morning, and please notice that sleep was not in that list, anywhere.

My mom even told me "It's a great idea, but just keep it for next year, you don't have the time to do this. You can't pull it off this quickly." (As you can see, I still listen to music, not parents.)

So I sat at The Mercury's promo table throughout the first half of Relay Saturday doing my job, mildly delirious from lack of sleep, but wildly abuzz for getting so inspired to do something for the first time in a while. I didn't have much time or materials to really get the word out about the mix, but I amazingly went through the initial pressing (25 copies) in about 5 hours. So instead of going home to take a mid-day nap as planned, I burned another 25 copies and returned by 9 pm to sell more throughout the rest of the night.

However, a threatening overhead storm shot the operation down. We were all huddled inside to the Pottsgrove High School cafeteria as thunder scraped the skies off in the distance. I didn't bring my CDs with; I left them at The Mercury table outside.

Instead I sat in the crowded cafeteria on top of an air conditioner, surrounded by a huddled community eating free pizza and chatting. At first, I was bummed, because I felt the success of my mix fading quick, not to mention this year's Relay For Life. It seemed like we were all going under. All that time and lightning speed hard work, only to be put in a cafeteria with pizza? And all my work and time only to raise a couple bucks for Relay? I could have cried.

Meanwhile, I was also missing out on sitting back and enjoying song vixens Liz Longley and Sarah Zimmerman who were supposed to be under the same tent as me belting out some lovely tunes, while I sold my tunes.

But unlike me, those two sparky ladies didn't even question giving up in that cafeteria. They came in, got on stage and played a song. They had one mic to work with, and sang their song the old classic way--singing into the mic from their own side while each playing their own guitar. But they couldn't bang out much volume on the stage, so most people kept talking over them, oblivious to their effort.

And that didn't stop them; they tried again. They came down to the cafeteria floor, moving to the center of the room, no mics at all, and proceeded to do a walking song. Sliding around the little moving space she had, Sarah funked a beat out of her wooden acoustic while Liz rang her pretty voice across the room. They looked so comfortable and so in the moment. They totally became their song.

I can promise you, small moments like that are the reason they got into music.

Still, some talked over them, but most couldn't help but be drawn in. Obviously, I was; and it retooled me. It reminded me of what we have to go through to get to where we want to go, to share what we want to share.

I'll have to talk to them about getting some of their tunes on whatever I do next that is along these lines.

I didn't sell any more mixes that night, and I went home and slept like an absolute baby. But that doesn't mean I'm not determined to sell this mix online. The Pottstown Relay For Life won't have their funding tally done until the end of summer, so we can still help, and I intend for this mix to be a part of that.

I can not sell more than 175 more of these compilations per one of the deals I struck with one of the bands on it, but I have permission to use other songs not on this mix, so I will sell what I can sell, and I will do it all myself and on my own buck (unless of course, someone WANTS to help).

With each "pressing" I do, the tracklist *may* change slightly. But the current pile I have to sell looks like this. Please support these artists, as well as The Relay For Life. I think I speak for all the artists involved here, that music is our life. And we'll defend other lives with it.

Remember, it's $5 for one mix and every single penny goes directly to the American Cancer Society. And don't be shy to buy a bunch to just give out to friends and family. It's a nice clean and varied mix. Just email me at c.march@hotmail.com and we'll work the rest out there.

Songs for Relay
1. The Fray - How To Save A Life (live acoustic session)
2. Cassino - New Jerusalem
3. My Morning Jacket - Bermuda Highway (unplugged version from Acoustic Citsuoca EP)
4. Radiohead - Reckoner
5. Young Galaxy - Swing Your Heartache
6. Nada Surf - Beautiful Beat
7. Slo Mo - How Do We Win The War?
8. John Mayer - The Heart of Life
9. Pete & J - Pennsylvania Sun
10. Thrice - Come All You Weary
11. Over It - Like Satellites

I dedicate this mix to Louise Egolf, the smile that kept me encouraged while working through the late nights on this mix.

**take note, I won't be posting on this blog for a week or so, as I want this to be the top attraction for a while.