Rasputin rewound

As we tried and tried to make sense of this mystery, which I originally thought went no further than "Michael went to a record store", we were getting more and more frustrated as clues refused to reveal themselves. That's when I noticed the backward facing 'N' in the Rasputin logo. "Of course!", I yelled. "The true meaning of a song and its lyrics can't be found until it's played backwards!". Jeff then told me to stop yelling because he had gone to bed. I didn't have to worry about disturbing Michael because it was Tuesday and he was with his nude badmitton league, which always seemed to run late, presumably because everyone was incapacitated by giggles anytime someone said 'shuttlecock'.
At any rate, I went to Michael's room with the Boney M record "Rasputin", put it on Michael's turntable and manually spun the disc in reverse...

No deirrac he woh smahs a saw ti
Enihcam evol tsetaerg s'aissur
NITUPSAR AR AR
Egon saw yllaer taht tac a saw ereht
Neeuq Naissur eht fo revoL

Erised dluow nemow
Rehcaet fo dnik eht saw osla eh tub
Erif dna ycatsce fo lluf
Rehcaerp a ekil elbib eht hcaerp dluoc eh
Raed ylevol a hcus saw eh skcihc
Raef htiw dna rorret htiw mih ta dekool elpoep tsom
Wolg gnimalf a seye sih ni ,gnorts dna gib saw eh
Oga gnol Aissur ni nam niatrec a devil ereht

Okay, so the devil pops up in the last (first) line and there's a couple references to saws and evil but most of it sounds like haunted cats in heat. Total dead end. I guess if there's any kind of nefarious plot, it would be that the Russians, via Rasputin Music in San Francisco and Boney M, wanted Michael's turntable broken because that's the end result.

Oops.

Ra Ra Rasputin

We've been busy analyzing Michael's record store findings (and listening to his excellent purchases) and discovered something interesting. With a few tweaks, the lyrics to the song "Rasputin" by 70s disco stompers Boney M make for shocking reading. I present to you the lyrics, accompanied by my line-for-line alterations.




"Rasputin"

There lived a certain man in Russia long ago 
There was a record store in San Francisco
He was big and strong, in his eyes a flaming glow 
It was big and strong and it had the eyes of Rasputin on the bag which were all glowey and flaming (I know that doesn't fit but you get the gist)
Most people looked at him with terror and with fear
Most other record stores looked at them with fear
But to Moscow chicks he was such a lovely dear
But to record buyers they were pretty neat, y'hear
He could preach the bible like a preacher
They could sell that vinyl like a mofo
Full of ecstacy and fire
... umm...
But he also was the kind of teacher
Women would desire
(That bit is not really relevant...)

RA RA RASPUTIN
Lover of the Russian queen
Lover of the record buying public
There was a cat that really was gone
There was a pretty cool store
RA RA RASPUTIN
Russia's greatest love machine
San Fran's greatest record store
It was a shame how he carried on
They were way better than the others

He ruled the Russian land and never mind the Czar
They ruled the Bay Area , never mind the rest of Cali
But the kasachok he danced really wunderbar
And people danced up and down the aisles in delight
In all affairs of state he was the man to please
7", 12", LP's, 45's, EP's
But he was real great when he had a girl to squeeze
Not forgetting CD's and those superb DVDs
For the queen he was no wheeler dealer
For your cold hard cash they'd do you a great deal, yeah
Though she'd heard the things he'd done
Although you know just what they've done
She believed he was a holy healer
You'll be yelling 'DJ Spin That Wheel, Yeah'
Who would heal her son
You'll have so much fun

[Spoken:]
But when his drinking and lusting and his hunger
But when their desire to thwart all competitors
for power became known to more and more people,
became known to more and more record collectors,
the demands to do something about this outrageous
the cries of "Help! We're losing money hand over fist!" from the likes of Aron's, Wherehouse and Tower Records 
man became louder and louder.
became louder and louder, and then quieter.

"This man's just got to go!" declared his enemies
"Rasputin's got to be stopped!" declared their enemies
But the ladies begged "Don't you try to do it, please"
But the record buyers said "You've got no chance, sorry!"
No doubt this Rasputin had lots of hidden charms
For they knew of Rasputin's not so hidden charms
Though he was a brute they just fell into his arms
... ummm.... I got nothing for this one, sorry
Then one night some men of higher standing
Set a trap, they're not to blame
"Come to visit us" they kept demanding
And he really came
Nope, can't do anything with those lines


[Spoken:] Oh, those Russians...

Oh, those record salesmen...


Of course a lot of this is open to interpretation but I think you can see that this is fairly damning stuff. Hopefully as the investigation continues, Clark will uncover more about the truth behind Rasputin and their records.

And what gives with this sign?

Now - sing along, everybody!

He Spins Me Right 'Round, Baby, Right 'Round

This past weekend I was in San Francisco.

While touring the city (and much to my delight), I stumbled across a nifty record store during my meanderings: Rasputin Music & Movies. It was "The Last Great Record Store" so proclaimed its bi-line proudly.

And of course, record collector that I am, I ventured in. I was immediately surprised by the size of the place - half a block deep and about the same in width with no less than 5 stories (Five! Stories!) of CDs, vinyl and DVD collectible goodness and of every genre imaginable.

It was the records I was most interested in, however. I ate the place up for the better part of an hour. I gleefully flipped through platters and platters of delicious vinyl encased neatly in clear poly sleeves. I was in heaven. I could have spent hours in the place without problem. Thus engaged, time spent would have gone by in a blink of an eye.
 
And in fact, that's just what happened. I spied the time and of a sudden I needed to be on my way. (But not without a small take. 3 pieces of vinyl just shy of $9.00. The trio included a couple Shriekback singles and a Stan Ridgway rarity, all in outstanding condition.)

Paid for and packaged, I jested with the checkout person who rang up my purchases and exited the store with a big, fat, sappy smile on my face.

And then? Monday morning? Something dawned on me:

Taking the records out of their bag, I looked at the colorfully vibrant Rasputin Music carry-all with more than a bit of interest.

On both sides of the bag the mysterious, mad Rasputin eyed me sternly. That's when I realized his gaze was electifyingly intense.

His look bore to my very core. He was glaring with laser-focused eyes. I pulled away from them (no easy task) long enough to scan the entire bag ... and I was transfixed by what I saw:

An endearing image of a black and white French Bulldog being cradled by Raspy complimented with an old hand-cranked record machine. "The Last Great Record Store" the bag proclaimed. 

Plus, Rasputin Music is accommodating to a fault, too:

We pay cash," Raspy offers, "for your CDs, DVDs, games, LPs, videos and books." Plus ... they offer trade in for your old stuff.

Flip the bag over and even more interesting (and curious) tales are told. 

Flames lick around the again steely stare of Rasputin, this time adorned with angelic wings and boasting 40 years of service in the business.

But ... here's the really interesting thing: Take a look at the top of the bag:

What ... !??? "Bullets" ... ?!? "Poison" ... ?!? What do those have to do with music ... ?!?

And beneath Rasputin? Markers and tombstones of record stores gone by the wayside: Aron's ... Music Land ... Moby Disc ... Wherehouse ... Record Finder ... Tower Records!

And yet another curious thing. That proclamation:

Wow. Really ... ??? Don't you find that a bit odd?

I mean ... is it actually a respectful nod of condolence and remembrance to those long-gone shops? Or does Rasputin Music have something to do with their demise ... ?!?

Think about it. Outside the occasional mom and pop record shop, vinyl stores have gone the way of the dinosaur over the years. Of late, however, vinyl has made an incredible resurgence. A huge resurgence, much to the delight of the collector.

And there's more. Not only has there been a definitive resurgence, but profitability of new vinyl - with its limited pressings, claims of rare recordings, "lost" versions of classics, hard-to-find alternate recording takes and more - has skyrocketed. To the benefit of those few record stores still plugging away ... just like Rasputin Music.

Is something sinister at work here? How does a 5 story store make it in the world today? Why the tip of the hat to the record shops of old? What the hell is the deal with the "poison" and "bullets" verbiage on the shop's bag? Why Rasputin - with his hypnotic gaze - as the "spokesman" for the business?

I informed Clark and Jeff of my findings immediately and we got right to work delving into the above questions. What did we find? Sinister doings? Coincidence? Wool being pulled over the public's eyes? Something else entirely?

You won't believe what the The Unbelievables found out ...