And there you have it folks.
That one's a true rarity.
1923, only four known copies, not that anyone's counting.
Not me, I just wanted to hear it.
Because tonight's a big night, folks,
I don't know if you've heard it, but our wonderful host,
my future alma mater, the home of KTLP radio 91.1,
is finally making the big switch to a CD-centric format.
Now they're not dumping the tables,
but the archive's gotta go.
Apparently our beloved wax takes up too much space,
if you can believe it.
So tonight, we're going to go through the archives
and play some of the greatest rare records
I've had the privilege of getting my grubby mitts on
these last couple of years.
And I want you the call in.
Let me know if there's anything you want to hear,
or anything you want to hear about.
I'm going to keep slinging wax as long as they let me,
even if that means hauling 50 records up here every night.
But make no mistake, mark your calendars.
The night the compact disc fired a deafening blow
across the bow of the great vinyl mothership,
December fifth, 1997.
Wait 'till you folks hear
what I've got lined up for you.
It's a goddamn treasure trove.
This school's got no idea what it's losing.
Call in, tell me what you've got.
Lines are open.
Live on air, KTLP, Eye of the Needle with Tuck Weston.
You've got some records in your collection
you want to chat about?
Yeah, wow, that's alright.
I'd didn't think I'd get through.
Congratulations.
Yeah, so I got this record at a garage sale,
and I think it's worth a lot.
But I wasn't sure how to tell.
What's the record?
It's the first Blue Umbrella's album.
Ooh, nice one.
1978, broken mirror on the cover?
Yeah, and blood on the glass.
Original pressing was self-released, only 20 copies.
I'm going to go out on a limb and assume
you're not a member of the band or friends
with a member of the band?
Nope.
Yeah, so probably not an original.
Damnit.
But, let's check.
Do you have the record with you?
Yeah, it's right here.
Take it out of the sleeve, and look at the dead wax.
The middle part?
Yeah, in between the last track and the label,
that little spot's called the runnout, or the dead wax.
Because you can't really put music there.
The angle doesn't work for the needle.
But you can etch in that space, so you usually see
matrix numbers stamped or scratched in,
or sometimes little signatures
from whoever mastered the pressing,
or sometimes, little secret messages.
I don't think there's anything on this one.
Hold it up to the light.
Yeah, wait, look at that.
What is it?
It's a bunch of numbers.
I don't know, they're really faint.
There's like a weird little triangle with a line,
and then a dot.
Okay, so yeah, if you would have saw the words
"Always carry an umbrella,"
that would have meant it was an original.
So then what's the little triangle?
Well that weird little triangle is supposed to be
a rifle shooting a bullet.
Yeah, I can see that.
It means that it was pressed at the Winchester plant.
Like the gun?
Same town, big plant there.
But, that would mean it's one of the major label reissues.
Damn. Well.
How much did you pay for it?
Only like two bucks.
And how does it sound?
It wounds great.
Then buddy, you ain't got nothing to complain about.
So what's the most rare record you guys have?
That's a good question.
We have some really unique stuff, but I think
far and a way the most rare kind of record
that you can get is an acetate or a test pressing.
They go for a ton of money, because sometimes
they're the only versions of an album
with songs that get cut, or mixes that are changed,
and they're fragile.
You got some there?
We do,
but the weirdest one I ever saw
we don't have anymore.
Why not?
That's sort of why it was weird.
This was about four years ago, my freshman year.
I was just an intern here, and back in those days
we still took on donated collections.
I was the one who would go through them
and decide what to keep, usually it was just kids,
unloading at the end of a semester,
so we'd pick two to three records and toss the rest out.
But the best was when some old dude would croak
and his wife, who probably always hated his collection,
would ship the whole thing over to us.
I'll never understand it,
but hey, I'll take it.
So we got this one collection, a doozy.
Every record was a winner, and a bunch of test pressings.
The guy must have been in the business or something.
Who was he?
I have no idea.
Most test pressings come in a plain white sleeve
with some writing on them.
But this one record didn't have anything
written on it at all, just some weird symbols
in the dead wax, and a signature I recognized:
L.M.L.
Lyle M. Lytton.
Who's that?
He's a guy who mastered some of the best records
of the eighties.
usually you lose something when you're going
from master tape to vinyl,
a frequency here, a frequency there, but Litton's stuff
was better than the masters.
He was a wizard.
You probably have some of his records in your collection.
Just look for the little L.M.L.
The first L is backwards.
I don't have a record player.
You don't have a
Anyways, the station used to be run
by this dude Fred Shallot.
Apparently, this donation was from a family friend.
I hadn't even listened to it yet, but I wanted
to let Fred know what I found, you know,
so he basically freaks out, and thinks he knows a guy
who'll pay a ton of money for it,
maybe even enough to fix the tower,
which at the time was barely powerful enough
to reach the parking lot.
What's so special about it?
I can only tell you what Fred told me.
Apparently, towards the end of his life,
Lytton started getting into some weird shit with sound,
making his own music, like weird noise and stuff.
Fred said what he heard, and I am not making this up,
is that Lytton was in the middle of cutting this lacquer
when he had a heart attack and died.
Bummer.
And that's only part of it.
You see, the lathe, the thing you use to cut the grooves
into the record is super sensitive.
And the legend goes, it picked up the sound of him dying.
Like you can hear screams and stuff?
No, not his screams, the sound of his actual dying.
Like leaving this plane of existence.
Death, on wax.
That's weird man.
Yeah man, apparently if you listen to this record
the whole way through
What was that?
Sorry, I was doing the you're dead thing
with my hands, just you couldn't see me
because this is radio.
Yeah, sure, and if you listen to it backwards
you're cured, right?
Yeah, that sounds about right.
So, did you get to listen to it?
I wish. Nah, Fred sold it to some rich collector,
and now you can pick up our humble station way out
in the bum-fucks.
Man, I don't think I'd have the guts.
Dude, you don't even have a turntable.
Fuck it.
Hey, we're off for the night.
No more shows until tomorrow.
I have it.
What?
I have the Lytton lacquer.
Bullshit.
Do you know what's in the dead wax?
Yeah, I held the darn thing in my hand.
I'm looking at it right now.
Okay, fine, what's in the dead wax?
Describe one thing.
A small person, a stick figure.
Their head has a line through it.
You'd like to hear it?
Yes.
A car will pick you up
outside your station in 10 minutes.
Seriously, who is this?
I represent a collector.
Who?
He is null and void.
He would like you to verify
that this is the correct record.
Yes, this is the record.
Why are you letting me hear this?
Who is this guy?
He is null and void.
When the rain falls in the garden, and no one is listening,
what is the sound that it makes?
Technically, rain sounds like white noise,
but this is one of those did it make a sound questions,
like if no one is there to hear it
does the sound really exist, Philosophy 101 sort of things.
So just put these on then?
You guys aren't going to listen?
I'm sorry, I can't.
Thank you. Thank you.
Shut up!
I thought,
it was possible to hear it.
I want to hear it, I wanted to hear everything.
Why deprive yourself of that experience?
But it was like looking into the sun,
and now I hear
Dammit.
The sound of null and the sound of void.
I keep hearing something on the edge of my ears.
This is what it sounds like now.
This is what it sounds like
when we're not listening.
It could have been anything, right?
It could have been anything, so it has to be everything.
White light, or heat.
White noise, this is the sound of the rain,
falling in the garden, when no one is there to hear.
Anna, dinner.