Roi-Soleil by Tosh Berman

 Roi-Soleil by Tosh Berman

"Property of Ronald Kane" by Tosh Berman

I went to Rockaway Records this week, and I purchased two albums: the late Ronald Kane owned Gavin Bryars' "The Sinking of the Titanic" (Obscure Records) and "The Joe Meek Story" (Decca).  I know this is true because there are stickers on both albums that says “The Property of Ronald Kane.”  One on the back cover, and another on the record label itself.   I may have met Ron Kane when I worked at Licorice Pizza music store chain during the 1980s.  He was the import record buyer for the entire chain, and it’s considerably possible that I met him perhaps at a Christmas party for the store, or when we had to get together for work meetings.   Then again I worked at the West Los Angeles and Reseda stores, so, for instance, I never went to their Glendale headquarters.  At least, I have no memory of going to the main offices.   That would be where Ron Kane worked, and now, I only know of him due that he passed away not that long ago.  

Ron built up his record collection over the years, and like me, it seems he has visited Japan numerous times to buy and searching out recordings.  I have my favorite record stores, but oddly enough, for the past 25 or so years of going back and forth to and from Japan, I always find a new place to shop for vinyl.  A collection is very much an activity that shows one who you are, and what your obsessions are.  It is just as truthful as if finding one’s DNA on a murder weapon - it can’t help itself in not telling some history or narrative through one’s collection of objects or things.  Ron Kane, right before he passed away, sold his entire collection of vinyl to Rockaway Records.  

Going through the new arrival bin at Rockaway, I see that Ron had a thing for European prog rock, or bands/artists that error on the side of experimental made music.  The sense of exploration on his part is awe-inspiring to me.   It would be interesting to know if he kept notes or a journal regarding his record hunts throughout the world.   What I see here is a man of intelligence and curiosity.   There are focuses on countries, such as Italy, as well as France, that put out numerous experimental/prog albums throughout the late 1960s to the mid-1970s.   When you are a fan of a particular artist or group, you become interested in what part of the world that they came from.  Which leads one to study that culture that would produce such an artist.  

I’m not the most excellent collector in the world, but I suspect Ronald Kane was one, in that he spent his life being intensely focused on the issues of records and where they came from.  The vinyl albums here in the store are all new looking.  Nothing tattered or torn, and every piece of vinyl, when I open the package seems in perfect shape.  The only alteration is the sticker with his name and that he owns the object on hand.  I often wonder why people put their names on albums.  For one, you can presume that they loan out to friends or institutions, and they want to make sure that they get their record back. Or, the essence of owning an object, you want to make sure there is some physical sense of ownership of that object.   Signing one’s name to an object or a collection is very much the same as an artist who signs their own artwork. 

So, with my memory, I’m not entirely sure if I met Ron Kane or not.  As an employee at Licorice Pizza during the 1980s, I purchased a lot of vinyl that came through the central office of licorice Pizza from the U.K.  Mostly due to the buying power of Ron through the store.  Although I never met him face-to-face or at the very least, a mere passing perhaps being in the same room together, his work had affected my record buying (with discount) adventure.   I’m a believer in museums to obtain a collection or one’s holdings.   I don’t know the number of albums owned and sold to Rockaway Records by Ron, but I have to imagine it was at the very least a few thousand titles.  As time goes by people will come to the store and more likely purchase a brilliant album with the sticker on it saying “The Property of Ronald Kane.” 

- My homage to Ronald Kane, and collecting - Tosh Berman, January 8, 2017

June 7, 2014

June 7, 2014

It is no secret among my friends that I look up to le Roi-Soleil as my man-of-choice in all manners that’s good in life.  From an early age, I had an obsession with the Sun King, better known as Louis XIV.  At the time, I lived in a single apartment on Martel in West Hollywood, that was basically a room with a small kitchen, and even a smaller bathroom. Still, it was my first home away from the family, and I treasured my little spot as if it was my Palace of Versailles.  Therefore I decorated the one-room apartment with images of Louis XIV, and even chose furniture that was not a good imitation of furniture from that period.  The fact that it looked fake, made the surroundings more endearing to me. 

At the time, I was employed in my first job, which was Licorice Pizza, a record store chain in Southern California.  I would take a bus to Reseda boulevard, and then another to Sherman Way.  At the time, I thought of the bus as my royal transportation.  It was a bus with a lot of stinky people, but to me, it was my palace as well.  I made sure I sat in the very back, and in the middle of the aisle.  I wanted the sense that everyone who enters the bus, must come to me.  Of course all of this was an illusion, and part of the time, I knew that.  But most of the time, I just forgot that fact and went on with the fantasy.  The music I played at the store was usually baroque music of all sorts.  My favorite records were recordings by Jacques Champion de Chambonnières, Jean-Baptiste Lully, and François Couperin.  The latter was my favorite of them all, and was awarded the credit of being “organist du Roi, ” organist by appointment to Louis XIV.  In the era of the Jam and the Sex Pistols, it was very hard at the time to find recordings of Couperin’s music.  Nevertheless, I insisted on making a special section of his music in our bins at the time.  As far as I can remember we didn’t even have any classical music in stock.  And what made it even more sad, was that at the time I could only find one release that was in print at this time.  “L’Espagnole, IV. La Piemontoise 1727” released on the Telefunken record label out of Germany.   My educated guess is that we were the only store in the San Fernando Valley that carried this recording, and only one copy at that.

Here, I need to be honest with you, I wasn’t that popular with people around me.  I kept my world as a very private one, and rarely did I share it with others, or allowed anyone to get close to me.  I prefer the artifice of a representation of a life than a real relationship.  It reached a peak in my life that I would make love to girls, but only in front of a full-length mirror that was in my apartment.  In a sense, I wanted to be in my own movie of my own making.  But alas, I have changed since then, and now I have not one single full-length mirror in my “now” humble home.