Rock 'n' Roll Vinyl 374 Items

OBI is missing. Gatefold cover with strong wear!

OBI is missing!

OBI is missing!

Vinyl with a couple of light scuffs, close to VG+. Still in shrink, but opened, with hype sticker. Cover with slightly bumped corner

Japanese pressing without OBI!

Japanese pressing without OBI

Japanese pressing without OBI!

Japanese pressing, no Obi.
Sleeve has seam-split and wear.

OBI not included.

Sensational reissue for the first volume of iconic compilation Simla Beat 70. A psych garage manifesto, the record consisted of groups who appeared at the All-India Simla Beat ‘battle of the bands’ contest held in two years (1970 and '71) in Bombay. The annual event and the records were sponsored by The Imperial Tobacco Company. Bands from all around India would compete for first prize. The album - indeed - was not recorded live on the stage but in a primitive makeshift studio using very little overdubbing or sound reinforcement. The sound is generally influenced by the proto-garage western movement of the mid sixties and later became a massive cult for all the 70s rock fans.

With his rawboned and ravaged instrumentals from the early ’60s, Link Wray single-handedly made the guitar the ultimately cool instrument of choice for a whole new generation. Wielding a Danelectro Longhorn, Link Wray—who created the blueprint for everyone from the Kingsmen to the Cramps with his flame-throwing sound—proceeded to outdo himself with this rare LP from 1963, now corralled on this Sundazed exact-repro, in crunchily perfect sound courtesy of the original Swan mono master tapes!

Japanese pressing with OBI. Copy close to NM.

No obi.

Japanese pressing, no Obi.
Sleeve has seam-split.

Promo copy with golden promo stamp on the back.

Slightly warped vinyl, but still enjoyable, otherwise VG+

Japanese pressing. OBI is missing.

Vinyl close to VG+. Japanese pressing with OBI and insert.

Vinyl with foxing, closer to VG+. Cover with bent corner

Japanese pressing with OBI and insert.

Japanese pressing without OBI, with insert. Cover close to NM

Vinyl with a couple of light scuffs

Copy closer to VG+. Without original inner sleeve

Japanese pressing without OBI, with insert. Vinyl close to NM

Japanese pressing without OBI, with insert. close to NM

Japanese pressing without OBI

Japanese pressing without OBI, with insert. Vinyl closer to NM

Japanese pressing without OBI, with insert

In 1970, famous Spanish duo Manolo y Ramón, known as El Dúo Dinámico since the early 60s, changed musical direction and name and recorded a full album in London in a cool pop-psych style. Using a dream team of session musicians (Jimmy Page, Ian Anderson, Billy Preston…) and arrangers connected to George Martin, the duo laid down 13 tracks of which “Lágrimas Sonrisas” backed with “Adiós, Adiós, Goodbye” were selected for a 45 release. It went unnoticed at the time but now “Lágrimas, Sonrisas” is mod psych anthem, full of powerful vocals, Hammond splashes, female chorus…highly sought after by DJs and collectors, here’s a deluxe legit reissue limited to 500 copies (not to be repressed). Includes postcard and insert with liner notes in Spanish by Vicente Fabuel.

As anyone who worked in a record store from the late 1980s to the mid-1990s can relate, the two Shimmy Disc albums released by the Rev. Fred Lane were the weirdest, most bizarre, abstractly enigmatic releases any of them had ever heard. From the dadaist titles and surrealist cover artwork to the absurdly peculiar lyrics and dementedly brilliant musical bent that careened from country to jazz to Morricone-inspired Western soundtracks, From The One That Cut You and Car Radio Jerome bewitched listeners with Lane’s eccentric take on music and, by extension, life in general. Early internet chat rooms and message boards were devoted to solving the mystery. For decades, rumors swirled about them. “We would just stare at the album covers and kinda make up our own stories,” Eric Friedl of Goner Records says of the misleading recording notations, fictitious back catalogs, and vague artistic allusions that dropped mostly fake clues for Lane’s most astute fans to decipher. Then, in 2013, Lane himself surfaced at the University of Alabama for an exposition. Seven years later, Icepick To The Moon, a documentary about Lane by filmmaker Skizz Cyzyk, premiered. The film, which took more than twenty years to piece together, filled in most of the blanks that had stumped generations of fans. Learning the details of Lane’s albums doesn’t change their inscrutability. The alternate Alabama universe that Lane and his compatriots conjured up—in, of all places, the southern college football town of Tuscaloosa—is a metaphysical place as vast and imbued with meaning as Faulkner’s Yoknapatawpha. As Friedl raves, “They’re still different from any other record out there.”