FILLMORE SOUL AT ROOKY'S RECORDS
50 years on from Rosa Parks' bus ride, some racial lines still run deep. For example, in San Francisco's Lower Haight neighborhood, the intersection of Fillmore and Haight remains a fairly distinct dividing line between black and white. What makes this interesting is that both sides of Haight have a fairly similar commercial mix of restaurants, groceries, bars, and record shops. But there's no getting around the fact that west of Fillmore it is largely white, while 50 feet away, on the east side of Fillmore, it is largely black.
I mention this only because I was walking in the Lower Haight on Sunday when I came across a small record shop ("Groove Merchant") with a fairly decent collection of old soul records. I'm always on the lookout for new songs to play with the band, and started asking the owner for recommendations. After a minute or two, he told me if I really wanted some good stuff I should go down past Fillmore to "Rooky Ricardo's." So I did.
When I walked up to the door of Rooky's, there was a group of older black gentleman sitting outside on the sidewalk drinking soda and listening to the music. I took this as an excellent sign. And it was. The place is a temple of R&B/soul vinyl- probably 5,000 LPs and 20,000 45s-along with a wall full of portable record players of various vintage.
I told the owner, Dick, that I played in a band and was looking for obscure, uptempo R&B from the late 50s - early 60s.
"Male or female singer?" he asked.
"Preferably female, but I'm open to anything as long as it swings," I said.
He broke into a wide smile. "You've come to the right place."
Dick then began rooting through his stacks of 45s, all the while asking me questions about what I liked and what the band sounds like. Once he had a decent stack, he walked over to his turntable and proceeded to play ALL of them for me at top volume. If I particularly liked one, he'd go back to the stacks and pull out another one he thought was similar. I was there for more than an hour.
In the end, I chose three records: "Hands Off" by Betty Everett, "Don't Mess Up a Good Thing" by Fontella Bass & Bobby McClure, and "Love is a Swingin' Thing" by the Shirelles. $5 flat. Dick also told me to bring in one of our CDs so he could get a better idea of our sound, and would make us a tape of potential songs for free. Before I left, he added that he teaches 60s soul dancing and said he could help us work on choreography "if you wanted to get into that sort of thing."
Awesome!
I mention this only because I was walking in the Lower Haight on Sunday when I came across a small record shop ("Groove Merchant") with a fairly decent collection of old soul records. I'm always on the lookout for new songs to play with the band, and started asking the owner for recommendations. After a minute or two, he told me if I really wanted some good stuff I should go down past Fillmore to "Rooky Ricardo's." So I did.
When I walked up to the door of Rooky's, there was a group of older black gentleman sitting outside on the sidewalk drinking soda and listening to the music. I took this as an excellent sign. And it was. The place is a temple of R&B/soul vinyl- probably 5,000 LPs and 20,000 45s-along with a wall full of portable record players of various vintage.
I told the owner, Dick, that I played in a band and was looking for obscure, uptempo R&B from the late 50s - early 60s.
"Male or female singer?" he asked.
"Preferably female, but I'm open to anything as long as it swings," I said.
He broke into a wide smile. "You've come to the right place."
Dick then began rooting through his stacks of 45s, all the while asking me questions about what I liked and what the band sounds like. Once he had a decent stack, he walked over to his turntable and proceeded to play ALL of them for me at top volume. If I particularly liked one, he'd go back to the stacks and pull out another one he thought was similar. I was there for more than an hour.
In the end, I chose three records: "Hands Off" by Betty Everett, "Don't Mess Up a Good Thing" by Fontella Bass & Bobby McClure, and "Love is a Swingin' Thing" by the Shirelles. $5 flat. Dick also told me to bring in one of our CDs so he could get a better idea of our sound, and would make us a tape of potential songs for free. Before I left, he added that he teaches 60s soul dancing and said he could help us work on choreography "if you wanted to get into that sort of thing."
Awesome!