Albuquerque may be dirt-ass poor, but at least we're filthy rich in a few other respects. (Hint: It's not dirt.) I'm talking about our passion. And if there's one thing that Burqueños are passionate about, it's our music. Whether we're at a show, getting all worked up over the all-ages debacle or pressing "repeat" on our newest CD-obsession, we're hopelessly devoted to the music that moves through our city. Hell, we can't even drive down the street without getting an earful of "what's hot" at decibels that would shatter the skull of a canary. Hey, that's passion!
"Seven inches of pleasure/Seven inches going home."
—Grace Slick, Across the Board: 1973
Call me an elitist bitch (it's been done), a techno snob (probably) or a digital-fearing Luddite (for sure), but there's nothing like the sound, feel and package of the seven-inch vinyl record.
As youngsters, we called 'em 45s, the RPM speed at which they were played. In the past decade and a half, they might also be 33s (more grooves, more playtime, same amount of space), or both, one speed for either side; some even purposely mislabeled to laugh at the Maximum Rock and Roll review hacks who couldn't tell the difference.
Albuquerque would have a bleak music scene without Joe Anderson, co-owner of the Launchpad and longtime man-behind-the-local-music-curtain. Here he talks with the Alibi about his more-or-less dormant record label, Science Project, and what it takes to run a record label here in the Kirk.