The kind people there did a grab bag drawing to celebrate their one year anniversary, and as a result, I got to take home an absolute treasure trove of CDs. Label samplers. Promo copies of upcoming albums. Lots of stuff from Get Hip Recordings. Almost none of it was on my radar, and I’m looking forward to making my way through the stack, one CD Monday at a time.
First up is Nick Zammuto’s soundtrack for the 2018 film We the Animals. I haven’t heard too much of it yet, but it’s certain to be a welcome respite from all the Daniel Tiger we’ve been listening to in the car lately. (Kid 2’s burgeoning DT obsession has reignited Kid 1’s. Not good. “I’ll be back when the day is new” isn’t just an understatement, y’all; it’s a threat.)
Speaking of being back… many thanks to Small Friend for getting CD Monday up and running again. Here’s a link to the piece I wrote on the shop a little while back, in case you missed it.
With Thanksgiving just around the corner, I’d like to share a link to an article I wrote about a place I’m truly thankful for: Small Friend Records & Books. I had an opportunity to interview the shop’s owners a little while back, and it was such a pleasure learning about how they got started, how they envision their store’s role in the Shockoe Bottom community, and how they see that space evolving in the future. They have such clear and admirable passion — not just for music, books, and zines, but also for the ideas represented in and by the items they stock.
Here’s how I started the piece:
When you walk into a house and scan the walls and shelves for the first time, you learn a lot about the people who live there. In that sense, Small Friend Records & Books, which opened its doors on 17th Street in April, feels as much like a home as a place you’d go to buy albums or novels.
I’ve written about this before, but one reason I care so deeply about — and am so thankful for — the record stores here in Richmond is the way they represent the importance of a sense of place in our lives. Places connect us to other people. They keep us engaged with those people, even when we don’t agree with them. And places connect us to our past, helping us better understand our present and future. Without a sense of place, we are diminished.
Small Friend is a wonderful place, and I hope you’ll take a few minutes to check out the interview. More importantly, head downtown to check out Small Friend for yourself. I’ve been there a number of times, and of the albums I’ve snagged there, I think I’m most in love with my copy of the Wild Wild Country original score, which was composed by Brocker Way — brother of the pair of brothers who made the Netflix docuseries. (There are three brothers total. Well, three brothers involved in the series. I guess they could have other brothers… I’m gonna stop. You get the idea.)
In many ways, the show is itself a meditation on the idea of place — on what it takes to build an organic community, and how quickly a place can grow without losing its sense of self. Here’s a favorite track of mine from the score — the elegiac “Church and State.”