we like dancing and we look divine

Today is Record Store Day. For many, it's not much different from most Saturdays - a weekly or monthly pilgrimage to rub shoulders with the popular music masses.

For some, the thought of exchanging their hard earned cash for recorded music, pressed into vinyl or imprinted into zeros and ones, is a foreign concept and ancient act reserved for those in their advanced years. You know...people over 40 years of age.

For most of the last 22 years, I have splashed my share of cash at the music mecca in downtown NYC known as Rebel Rebel. I've known David, the owner, longer than any of my friends. I used to buy import 12 inch singles from him when he was a clerk at another nearby record shop and I was a 16 year old Greenwich Village urchin.

I used to buy all the British imports - Duran Duran, Spandau Ballet, Eurythmics, Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark, Alison Moyet, Simple Minds, Bananarama, Culture Club, Depeche Mode, David Bowie, ABC, Howard Jones, The Human League, Siouxsie And The Banshees, New Order and countless others. And David always knew what I would like. He was rarely wrong. Along the way, he introduced me to The Blow Monkeys, Lloyd Cole And The Commotions, David Sylvian and Swing Out Sister.

David and I share a bond. He is partly responsible for shaping my musical taste. He's altogether the reason why my wallet was usually empty every payday.

I followed David from New Wave to the New Romantics. Together we took trips through C86, House, Britpop and every other incarnation of pop music from the seemingly never ending stream of sound which flowed from the UK.

So, instead of lamenting a beleaguered music biz, I took today to revel in the rich tapestry of tunes inside the tiny corridor of sound located on Bleecker Street. Rebel Rebel is still in the same location where it opened its doors in August 1988.

It's packed to the rafters with both new and old vinyl, classic mags from the 80s, more compilations than your iPod could ever hold, hard to find promos and boxes upon boxes of music memorabilia. But if you're looking for the latest limited edition releases, you better get there early because David sells out of them in the blink of an eye.

In these digital days, there's a nostalgia for flicking through crates of vinyl. I loved manhandling 12" singles. (Insert filthy retort here.) There was something alluring and exhilarating about flipping LPs over front to back to front. The lavish designs. The detail. Even holding a CD had its thrilling moments. The jewel case. The shiny disc. Thumbing through booklets. I remember the early days when they were nothing more than an expensive curiosity. Then they rolled out into the mainstream and I got hooked right away.

So, what was my first purchase at Rebel Rebel when its lights were turned on for the first time? Glad you asked, kittens.

I bought the 7", 10", 12" and CD single formats of "Dreaming" by Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark. All four configurations were UK pressings. It was the only single lifted from OMD's first greatest hits collection.

Supporting local, independent retailers still means something to me. I do my best to unload my shekels where I know it will make a difference to the vitality of the surrounding neighborhood.

I clearly remember Greenwich Village before the strollers, the upwardly mobile throngs, the high end fashionista shops and the gleaming mega gyms. I attended college at NYU. I recall seeing the leather studs, the transvestites, the club kids, the bohemians and the wide eyed teens from suburbia all gathering at the many record shops dotted about. The street corners of GW and SoHo were the places where I first came across the art of Keith Haring. It's where I learned about life. I was able to explore my passion for creativity. It was the stuff of dreams. Good times. New York, ice cream, TV, travel, good times!

Today isn't just a celebration of Rebel Rebel and all other independent music shops. For me it's more about finding and defining my youth. It's the experiences and how they're colored by the music I have listened to all my life. Music that wouldn't have been there if I didn't have a haven like Rebel Rebel in my life. It was communal. It was inspiring. It was a sonic celebration every week. And it continues to be. Long may it thrive even in these uncertain times.

By the way, aren't you the least bit curious about what I bought today? Of course you are. On vinyl, natch!