Kornelia Binicewicz
Ladies on Vinyl
BY Natalie Arnon
On an island near Istanbul, reachable only by ferry, lives a very special storyteller. She is a record collector, an anthropologist, a curator. What might read like the premise for a modern fairytale is, in fact, the story of Kornelia Binicewicz—the woman behind Ladies on Records. Through this project, her DJing, and her curated compilations, Kornelia tells us about the women both at the forefront and in the shadows of the male-led music industry. This is no ordinary record collector—this is a woman on a mission, and we’re here for it.
Kornelia’s Ladies on Records puts the spotlight on Middle Eastern female singers and musicians from the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s. Using the power of colorful covers and irresistible grooves to draw listeners in, Ladies on Records teaches us what these albums truly represent. You might come for the artwork, but you stay for the history—the geopolitical and social realities behind the music. While her focus is often on Turkish and Middle Eastern singers, the juxtaposition of artists from different countries and backgrounds tells a universal story. Woven together, the experiences of immigrant Turkish women in Germany and the history of female Mizrahi singers in Israel remind us of the central role women play in music and culture—and why it’s so important to listen to their voices. In this way, Ladies on Records shows that music doesn’t only have the power to connect people but also to help them better understand themselves and the world around them.
Kornelia’s journeys are not solely audio-visual. Her projects take her across the globe, relying on a network of music lovers and fellow collectors to uncover new music and hidden stories. Her digging expeditions through record stores and private collections lead to deeper dives into everything her finds represent. As she says, each record is an invitation to jump into the rabbit hole. Forever a fan of the analog format, her curatorial work always begins with the physical object—a record, dusty and pre-loved, full of visual and cultural clues.
My interview with Kornelia began with questions about the whats and hows of her record collecting, but it quickly turned into a conversation between two women about collecting, storytelling, and finding our place in the world. While music unifies and record collecting brings people together, there is still something distinct about the female experience. This is what Kornelia seeks to capture in her work and in her precise collection—and she does so in a way only a woman can. Ladies on Records is the culmination of her passion for music, digging, and research into the spaces women inhabit in culture and history. Do not be fooled—or rather, let yourself be—by the tunes she spins. This is no ordinary musical journey. It is an immersive educational experience, carried by a very funky retro beat.
"The reason I turned to records when I was a lot younger was because it was a sort of therapy for me."
A Portable Paradise. “Usually where there are records, there are record players.”
I’d like to know where your story begins to better understand where you are now. Can you take me back to your early days and tell me where you’re from?
I was born in Santiago, Chile. But we had to leave Chile in the early ’80s and relocate to the San Fernando Valley in Los Angeles. That was all due to the political turmoil going on with [Augusto] Pinochet and everything. It was just bad. My uncle, my dad’s older brother, had already lived in LA for a couple of years and my dad was just following in his footsteps. So it was me and my sister. I was two at the time, my sister was four, and my mom was in her early twenties. Both my parents were pretty young and not knowing what they were doing, but that’s pretty much how we ended up in Los Angeles.
Can you tell me about your dad’s musical influence?
Moving around a lot when I was young had a heavy influence on me, exposing me to different styles of music. And for sure, I always credit my dad for being my biggest musical influence. He just showed me everything. He had a wide variety in his pocket, and I think that did get passed on to me. My dad had music playing in the house. My mom did too. It’s funny because when we moved to the States, you know, they wanted to be ‘Americanized’ and fit in with the Joneses. So that’s when they started bringing in English-language music too, I think in part because they were just trying to learn the language through television and music.
Debora – Supergirl Debora. Debora Serrata is a Mexican artist who was a member of the group Punto Quatro, best known for their parody of the Grease movie soundtrack sung in Spanish. Her obscure late-70s solo LP, Supergirl, on OB Productions, is a mix of Latin soul and disco. She’s backed on the date by her Punto Quatro bandmates.
“The track for me on Supergirl ‘Lo Que No Haria Por Amor.’ It’s a Spanish cover of Bobby Caldwell’s ‘What You Won’t Do For Love’. The whole LP is great and I think before I even heard the record I picked it up on the strength of the cover art.”
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I know having an older sibling can often be influential, musically and otherwise. Tell me about your sister. What was she into that maybe helped shape your taste?
My sister is two years older than me, and I was not allowed to leave the house in my early teens without her. I had to tag along everywhere she went, and since she was a little bit older than me, she was already getting into trouble before I was. But there I was [laughs]. We definitely hit the streets a lot in Los Angeles. And around that time, I would say early to mid-90s, LA had a thriving hip-hop scene, like West Coast underground hip-hop, and a thriving rave scene. She ended up dating a famous graffiti artist when she was fifteen. So I would have been thirteen. I remember he would just bring over cassettes and would show me hip-hop music. I didn’t know what it was at that time. I was only listening to whatever my parents were showing me. You know, heavy Latin stuff, my dad’s rock, and then English-language music. So my sister’s boyfriend was bringing cassettes over of real grimy stuff. And I was like, ‘What’s this!?’ But what really stood out on those tapes was that I recognized some of the music that my parents were already playing. At the time I didn’t know what samples were, and I didn’t know that there were producers making beats.
So she was a couple of years older, but you guys were out there together, forging your own musical path, separate from what your parents had exposed you to up until then.
Yeah, these were the years when you start rebelling against your parents’ vibe. We would also go to raves because that was just the place to hang out. We were too young to go to the clubs, so that’s where we’d go. And I started listening to electronic music: house music, techno and drum & bass. And because my mom was always pumping disco and things like that, I would hear these house tracks and think to myself that it sounded like my mom’s disco records. I’ll never forget taking a mixtape over to my local record store and being like, ‘I want this song here!’ and the guy at the shop said, ‘I think you’re asking for the disco sample on it.’ Then he pulled out a Patrice Rushen 12-inch and I said, ‘Yes, that’s it!’
“I’ve always called myself a bedroom DJ because, for years now, there might’ve only been a night or two when I didn’t play my records at home.”
Do you still have old rave flyers? I know you collect so many things.
That’s crazy because that’s one of the things that started my collection in my early teens. I would just grab them because it was obviously the thing I was into, but I thought the artwork was really cool. I remember around ten years ago, my mom was like, ‘Okay, come get this stuff because it’s gonna go in the trash!’ I think a lot of it did, but I definitely still have a lot of flyers. I’m a huge fan of having things on paper. It’s like when you’d see the old disco or hip-hop flyers from the ‘70s and ‘80s, that’s what the rave flyers equate to now.
Pollution – Self Titled. Pollution was the brainchild of guitarist and songwriter James Quill Smith, who wrote the majority of the songs they recorded. This, their second album, was released in 1971. “The singer and percussion player in the band is Tata Vega. She sings a cover of Sly Stone’s ‘Underdog’. Personally, I love that song because, at different points in my life, I myself have felt like an underdog. In my younger years as a record collector, being a female in a then male-dominated scene, I did feel like an underdog.”
What kind of records get you the most excited these days? What sounds do you seek out?
It’s funny because I’m back to what my parents first started showing me. In the last four or five years, I’ve been going back to that straight Latin percussion sound. Of course, I’ve been up on the Fania sound and, you know, the more recognizable stuff. But now it’s at the point where I want to find the crazier stuff, like psych records from Peru or weird chicha records from South America. I’m sure that being from South America has an influence, but I just like that sound. I’m super drawn to it. It’s like psych, but still funky and playable. I definitely collect the weird stuff that I can just play at home.
When did DJing enter the picture for you? At what point did it go from enjoying music at home to sharing your records on a dance floor?
I’ve always called myself a bedroom DJ because, for years now, there might’ve only been a night or two when I didn’t play my records at home. That’s my way to unwind after a long day. I will come home at night and play records for myself for hours. I have to do that. I don’t watch television. I like podcasts, and I’ll read the news, but other than that, I just go straight to music. So I was a bedroom DJ forever because that’s just what I did. But I have really amazing, talented friends who say, ‘Hey, come play records with us!’ And it’s super hard to say no because it sounds fun.
I live in Las Vegas, and living here has felt very transitional. I had the feeling that I was going to leave. I have the feeling that I’m still visiting even though, ironically, it’s my twentieth year here. So, when the pandemic happened and I was forced to stay home, I decided that year that I was going to make this my home. I started reaching out to people here in town because there are definitely some heavy collectors and DJs here. But I used to feel like it’s not like other cities, we’re not cultured enough. I always kind of put Vegas down. Then, instead of complaining about what’s not going on here, I just tried to create something.
I started getting some people together and we ended up creating a collective. This was still during Covid, so it’s not like we were out in the club playing. We would just go to each other’s places and share music. Then, when things started opening back up, we transitioned into playing clubs downtown. I started playing out every week. I would say in the last three or so years I’ve been doing it a lot more frequently. But I also have to be careful with it because I have a full-time job and am a single mom.
Hector Lavoe – Comedia. After moving to New York at age seventeen, Hector Lavoe became one of the biggest names on Fania Records, initially as a lead vocalist for Willie Colon but going on to further success on his own. Comedia, his third solo album, is considered his comeback record after taking a year off from music to get sober. The LP, which has come to define the singer known as “El Cantante De Los Cantantes” (The Singer of Singers), contains his stand-out tune, “El Cantante.” “A lot of Fania music was played in my household growing up. I attribute this record and this whole label for shaping my taste in music today.”
Aguaturbia – Self-titled. Chile’s Aguaturbia is one of the most influential psychedelic bands to emerge from South America in the late ’60s and early ’70s. The group featured husband and wife Carlos and Denise Corales on lead guitar and vocals, respectively, and had a sound that drew comparisons to Jefferson Airplane. Their self-titled debut, recorded in 1969 on a primitive three-track recorder, was released on Arena Producciones in 1970 and caused quite a stir in their strongly Catholic homeland.
“This record is extremely hard to find an original pressing of. It took me a while and came from my friends at Discodelic on one of their travels to Santiago. The cover shows the whole band sitting naked in a dimly lit room and, because of that, it was censored by the press and the Catholic church with many record stores refusing to carry it.”
You played some gigs in Europe recently with Dave Haffner from Friends of Sound. What was that experience like? How was the digging?
Yeah, it was crazy. It was my first time over there. We played in Madrid and Barcelona and then we did London and Bristol. People get excited when you’re coming from out of the country. At least I know I do when people come to the US, because I know I’m gonna hear something different. I know on some level I do have some rarities, but it was also cool to see people respond to the things that they don’t hear every day that we might consider more common. Like when you see somebody hearing something for the first time and how they’re reacting to it. I know what that feels like. It’s like a drug.
As far as the digging, we did some private deals, which are my favorite. I love record stores, but I think it’s gotten to the point where if you’re looking for something crazy or if you’re looking to do trades, for example, you’re going to end up with the dealers. Stores are awesome to check out, but I feel if you want to find the crazy stuff, you have to link up with the crazy dealers, or just go do it yourself and try to find them on your own. Dave [Haffner] was on the trip with me, and he’s one of those dealers. So, dealers meeting with other dealers was just next level.
We touched on the fact that you work full-time in Vegas. Working in a casino, I’d imagine you might come in contact with some interesting people. Has your job ever translated into record finds?
Yes, that happens. Vegas is very much a retirement type of town. There are many reasons that people end up here. A lot of musicians retire here, and some come here to revive their careers. So working at the casino, I have met some musicians and got some leads on records. But generally, I try to separate my record life from my work life.
Thrifting was something that you grew up doing. Still doing it regularly these days?
A question I get asked a lot is, ‘Do you find all this stuff in Vegas?’ I do find stuff here, but I still like to travel and do road trips, even if it takes me a day to drive there. That’s still a big part of the way I acquire a lot of these things. Do I check for thrift stores here in Vegas? Absolutely. But I travel a lot for various reasons, and if I’m ever traveling somewhere, I will hit the flea markets, the thrift stores, you know, whatever I can squeeze in. Back in the day, people used to rip out the Yellow Pages and hit all the spots. I still do that.
Los Ángeles Negros – “El Rey Y Yo” / “Como Quisiera Decirte”. Los Másters – “Cissy Strut” / “Sueño Electrico”. Both Los Ángeles Negros and Los Másters hailed from Chile and feature a psychedelic funk sound. Both 45s were released in 1969. Los Ángeles Negros received some international recognition after signing with Odeon Records in the late 60’ and, much later, with hip-hop heads after they were sampled by the Beastie Boys, Ghostface Killah and others. Los Masters also recorded for Odeon in the late 60s, including their sought-after cover of the Meters classic, “Cissy Strut.”
“Both of these copies were plucked from my family’s collection. One from my dad and one from my uncle. My dad has had the most influence on me musically. He has always been a music fan and has shown me great records since I was a kid.”
Crates upon crates of 45s. “45s makes you listen to one song at a time and that changes the way you listen. It helps me focus. When I’m playing 45s, I’m not easily distracted by my thoughts or surroundings.”
"I think I’ve matured to the point where I understand that, without a doubt, none of us have any ownership over this music. That, to me, coincides with ego and I would say ego is usually my biggest turnoff when it comes to dealing with record community people."
How would you describe the makeup of your record collection? Also, tell us your approach to keeping things organized.
The other day I started organizing things, which I’m not good at. I’m one of those people where everything is chaotic, but I’ll remember where everything is within that chaos. I started asking people how they categorize their records. Do they do it by label? By genre? By year? Everybody has a different opinion. So I started with one section. I told you I’ve been heavy into the Latin stuff the last couple of years. So it’s like, okay, well, you’ve got your slow Latin stuff and you’ve got your cumbias, you’ve got your Latin funk, you’ve got your Latin psych, you know, so it was starting to get a little out of control.
What has been making sense for me lately is separating things that I play out versus things that I just listen to at home. I need easier access to the things I play out, and I like to play a lot of genres. I’m still the person who shows up to the gig with way too many records because I never know exactly what I’m gonna play, and I don’t know what people are expecting me to play, either.
So I try to just bring a lot of everything. But I am a straight funk girl. I love funk music. But I also like deep and sweet soul, right? So that’s a whole other thing. I love oddball records. Just that stuff I can’t even categorize. There’s really no genre that I’ll turn my nose up at.
Is it fair to say your collection is eclectic, but veering toward the deeper, more obscure parts of each genre?
That’s a really good way to put it. I also don’t want to come off like I’m only looking for the rare stuff. One of the things I tell people who are just getting into collecting is to not skip over all the common things. After all, that’s what helps your ear get into the crazier stuff. Do you remember the first time you heard a Stevie Wonder record? I tell people not to skip over those common records, because those are the things that are going to blow your mind. You don’t need to come out of pocket when you’re first putting a collection together. Start where you can start.
Ensemble Vuisadou / Blue Seven Ensemble – Pinky Record No. 2
A mysterious record, not least for its unusual 8” format, this curiosity likely dates from the late 1960s based on the sound, recording techniques, instrumentation, and arrangement. The second installment in the Pinky Records series features a mix of sexually explicit spoken word over a bed of easy listening and jazz arrangements. It is reported, though not confirmed, that these were originally only sold in sex shops in and around Tokyo.
“My friend, Victor Kisswell, a French DJ and dealer who is now based out of Barcelona, hipped me to this at his place on a recent trip to Spain. Where there’s a number two there’s a number one. And, apparently, a third release as well. The hunt continues…”
Tell us how you feel about the online community of collectors—both the pros and the cons.
On the one hand, it’s great we can connect and share things. But also, I come from a generation where people didn’t share record titles freely. I’m very much from an era where you had to go find things on your own. DJs then weren’t trying to show what they were playing, and covered their labels because they didn’t want somebody else to go find that record and take their ‘sound.’ That was when I was younger. I think I’ve matured to the point where I understand that without a doubt, none of us have any ownership over this music. That, to me, coincides with ego and I would say ego is usually my biggest turnoff when it comes to dealing with record community people. That exists. But what I see more of these days is just people sharing music they love, and that’s a beautiful thing.
The thing about just buying records online is that it’s instant gratification, and we know how that goes. Of course, I buy records online too, but I do it much less than I do in person because I will always remember the records that have a story attached to them. I think part of the reason we even collect physical things is because we want to hold on to and feel connected to the history of something. To make a connection. I feel like you lose a lot of that when you’re just on Discogs, adding records to your cart.
The Diamonettes – “Don’t Be Surprised”
Friday, Saturday & Sunday – “There Must Be Something”. Two deep soul 45s on Henry Stone’s TK subsidiary, Dig Records, produced by Willie Clarke and Clarence Reid. Despite singing backup for many mid-’60s sessions, The Diamonettes only released a few singles under their own name. The Friday, Saturday & Sunday tune “There Must Be Something” was penned by soul legend Betty Wright.
“Not enough great things can be said about this whole camp out of Miami and Hialeah, Florida. Everyone has heard a record from someone in this powerhouse whether they know it or not.”
Various Artists – Magie Noire Lancôme Paris. “This disc, released in 1978 in conjunction with the launch of the perfume Magie Noire, typifies the kinds of music deals that were happening in the late 1970s. A Dutch record company produced a promotional record for a French perfume company full of British composers and musicians. This release was likely coordinated through the famed library label, KPM, though it’s not credited that way. All the British composers either worked with KPM around the time or a few years before the release.”
A lot of photos of you, you’re rocking T-shirts from classic record labels. Is that another thing you collect?
One of my biggest gripes is that they never make women’s sizes in shirts! It got to the point where I just started making my own tees, either having them printed or screening them myself to fit me. I also want to support my friends and their labels, and want to support cool record shops. If ever I’m out and I see a cool shirt, or people send me something to promote their work, amazing. For me, it started by buying up every shirt from every show I would go to, or every party or every event, and it just kind of escalated from there. Vintage ones are my favorite.
How do you handle storing all of the many things you collect? Not just your records and tapes, but the toys, tees, portable turntables, all of it.
I have storage units because my place is small. I live in an apartment right now. Another thing that I don’t share online is that I collect and flip a lot of furniture as well. I have a storage locker full of just furniture—mostly mid-century stuff. And the T-shirts have gotten out of control, so they have a closet of their own, plus more that I have in storage. Then there are shoes, sunglasses and purses. And toys, for sure.
Then there’s my special closet. I’m tending to this tiny museum, adding and moving things around. I’ve moved out of living arrangements, and my ‘closet museum’ continues to move with me. I’ve kept it in a confined space because I like the challenge of rotating in new finds. I love the curatorial challenge it presents. This is a space I have created for myself to feel carefree, where I’ve enshrined slices of history—simpler times, full of fun characters, vibrant colors, cool design and packaging. It’s a place to display my favorite finds.
The Closet Museum. “I’m always tending to this tiny museum, adding and moving things around. I’ve moved out of living arrangements, and my closet museum continues to move with me. I’ve kept it in a confined space because I like the challenge of rotating in new and fun finds. The organizational concept behind it is simple—basically, ‘get in where you fit in.’ I love the curatorial challenge it presents.”
You’ve got some amazing record-related ephemera as well. What are some items you wished you had, and which ones are big favorites?
I’m gonna start with the things I don’t have. One of them is a Gladys Knight & the Pips necklace. It was a gold chain that you could only get if you were in the fan club, and you wrote in and won a contest. I’ve seen the ads for it, I know it exists, and I’ve been hunting that down for twenty years!
The other thing is Audio-Technica put out the Sound Burger, which everybody loves for digging. But they had a prototype in the early ‘80s called a Sound Crocodile or Sound Croc. If you look online, you’ll see there are mock-ups of it, but there’s a prototype even though it was never commercially produced. And wherever there’s one prototype, there’s two or three of them, right? This was a crocodile whose jaw would open and you’d drop it down and play your record on it. So that’s another obsession. Being a huge fan of portables, I’m always putting my feelers out for that one. But it could also be totally mythical.
As far as favorite pieces, there are a lot. But I got a Big Daddy Kane Tootsie Roll here that I’m quite fond of.
Wait, what? Tell us more.
Yeah, it was for the Taste Of Chocolate album. It says on the side, ‘Ain’t nothing vanilla about it.’ I found it at a record shop in Ann Arbor, Michigan, owned by an older gentleman who collects lunchboxes. This was seven or eight years ago and he took me into this back room with thousands of lunchboxes. Then I saw it sitting in a corner that was just full of other things that he had piled up. I pulled it out and he sold it to me. It wasn’t even expensive! I bought a bunch of things that day. That same day, I got the Michael Jackson Motown glove!
Salt ‘N’ Pepa – “Shake Your Thang” / “Spinderella’s Not A Fella (But A Girl DJ)”
“This was gifted to me by my friend Mr. Thing from the UK. As a collector of hip-hop records and ephemera, this is the best gift ever.”
Biz Markie – “Just A Friend” Postcard Flexi-Disc
Boston label Get On Down released this postcard record as a Record Store Day promo in 2012 to accompany their picture disc version of The Biz Never Sleeps. The postcard featured a previously unused photograph from Cold Chillin’ and Juice Crew photographer George Dubose.
“I brought it out one year to have Biz sign it at a local show he did. His cousin, who was also his manager and DJ… Cool V was gracious enough to link me with Biz and have him sign it. Biz was someone I looked up to as an amazing artist, all around an incredible human, and one of the illest collectors of our generation.”
Let’s talk about your renowned portable collection. How many portable record players are you up to now? What are some of your favorites?
With portables, they come and go. I’ve started getting rid of some of them. But I would say what I have now is probably close to a hundred. It fluctuates, because I’ve been letting go of some and bringing some more in.
My favorite brand is National from Japan. They’re the ones that made my panda-shaped player, and there’s the one with the rocketship on it. The thing is, they might look like kiddie players, but they’re awesome. They’re sturdy and they work well. To me, it’s just as important what they sound like, not just what they look like. There are the ones with the built-in keyboards as well. Some of those are Nationals. A lot of them came from the same factory, and each company would just stick their name on it.
You have your Panasonics, Nationals and Emersons, but there are some crazy Russian and Italian brands too. It’s a never-ending dig and unfortunately, there’s not too much info out there. It’s out there but it’s hard to find. It’s one of those things where you have to find people who know people.
I believe there was talk at some point about you opening a portable museum.
Yeah! I’ve been contacted about that. A good friend of mine in San Diego named Mark probably has the same amount of portables as I do. We’ve been in talks about touring it or doing something like a pop-up portable turntable museum. A certain university reached out too. I’m curious to see how it would resonate with people these days, because I think that five or ten years ago, people would not have cared like they do today.
Gloria Ann Taylor 45s
Soul singer Gloria Ann Taylor was discovered by James Brown’s promoter and production manager, Walter Whisenhunt, whom she later married while singing at a nightclub in Ohio. Together they recorded several now sought-after records, ranging from left-field disco to lo-fi ballads. The combination of Gloria’s unique, often haunting voice over fuzz guitars and exotic percussion should have made her a household name. Her closest brush with that kind of recognition came when Columbia Records signed her in the mid-70s, but Whisenhunt, out of frustration, soon pulled them out of the deal to distribute her music through his Selector Sound imprint.
“My personal obsession with Gloria Ann Taylor started when I walked into a small cantina-style bar and a pioneering soul DJ and friend of mine, George Miller Jr. was playing a song of hers called “World That’s Not Real”. I’m not one to bother a DJ for titles and just prefer to appreciate the music being played but that track was so haunting, I made a b-line for the booth and that’s where my obsession began. I only have the completist bug for a few artists and Gloria’s at the top of that list.”
Tell us about Alma Profunda, the beautiful collection of Spanish ballads and oldies you released on cassette. What was the process of putting that tape together?
All these songs are what I grew up with in the Los Angeles area, especially the car culture. It’s very significant there, especially around the time I was growing up. It was everybody’s parents’ music and, like I said, in the last three to five years, I’ve just been digging deeper into music sung in Spanish. I was just revisiting my records, flipping them over, and finding that sound I explained. For instance, Panamanian sweet soul or Chicano soul ballads sung in Spanish. A lot of Texas records are on the tape. These records just spoke to me, and I’ve been gathering records for the last two years to make the second volume. I now have enough to do another one. I want to do it like the first tape, which was very DIY. I recorded every single tape on my duplicator using old tapes I recycled. I made the artwork. I cut everything out and pieced it together. So it’s very much my DIY project, which makes it even more special.
Paola’s partial portable players collection.
In addition to tapes, you’re also known for having music on unusual formats. Can you give us a rundown of some of the more unique items in your stash?
Yeah, for example, I have smaller records, ones that are 3-inches or 5-inches. Then, some records were only made for their own particular player, like the Hip Pocket records which were 4-inch flexis. Those were made by Philco, a division of Ford Motors, from 1967-1969. They would sell these records at their dealerships and get licensing for a hundred records. I’ve got Aretha, the Doors, the McCoys, Percy Sledge, Jay & the Techniques, the Dells, Van Morrison, Mitch Ryder, Bo Diddley and more from them.
Eventually, Apple Records caught on and made their own version, but those only lasted a very short period. I want to say not even a year. But if you look up those flexis, they are in the hundreds to buy one now. They’re super collectible. Originally the Hip Pocket records were only sixty-nine cents. They never raised the price. You could find them at Woolworths. Of course, like with everything, other countries caught on, and one of my absolute favorites is a little Russian player that plays its own 4-inch flexis.
I don’t have a lot of 5-inch records but I love record swag, so when Stones Throw put out 5-inches for Mayer Hawthorne and Lord Finesse, I got a couple of those. Then the White Stripes released some 3-inch records that play on their own Triple Inchophone miniature player which was based on the 8-Ban from Bandai. Then you’ve got cereal box records and postcard records. My favorite postcard is the Biz Markie one with ‘Just A Friend.’ Get On Down put it out in 2012 as a Record Store Day promo. And this was in the early days of Record Store Day, way before you had to stand in line for records, which I probably wouldn’t do. So anyway, I got one and then Biz was out here performing in Vegas. I knew his cousin, DJ Cool V, so I hit him up and was like, ‘Hey, I want to get this signed,’ and he was nice enough to take me over to Biz to have it signed. This is one of my prized possessions because I think Biz was an awesome human and probably one of the illest collectors of our generation.
Bandai – 8-Ban Miniature Record Player. “What possessed a Japanese pressing plant to invent a 3-inch record around the turn of the 21st century is anyone’s guess.”
Hip Pocket Player and Flexi-Discs. “Hip Pocket Records were flexi-discs manufactured by Philco, a division of Ford Motors, from 1967 to 1969. These flexi-discs were one-sided and played two songs each, including over 50 different Top 40 hits and a series of children’s songs. Philco/Ford teamed with three major record companies—Atlantic, Mercury, and Roulette—to license the music for the flexis. They were sold for 69 cents at Woolworth’s and local Ford dealerships. Philco also produced a small phonograph for the Hip Pockets, made especially to play them, but the series declined in popularity due to the fact that the flexi-discs could only be played about a dozen times before they wore out.”
Ohio Arts – Mighty Tiny Record Player. “In 1970, the Ohio-based toy company Ohio Art—best known for the Etch A Sketch, which became a hit a decade earlier—released a new toy called the Mighty Tiny Record Player. The Mighty Tiny used 2-inch records, the smallest vinyl format ever, custom recorded and manufactured specifically for the turntable. The steel needle on the turntable was attached to a thin steel bar, which vibrated a plastic dome that acted as a speaker. There is no volume control, as it is purely mechanical. The records for the Mighty Tiny were sold in packs of four with full artwork. None of these recordings have ever appeared in any other conventional format and, to this day, are only able to be heard on the player they were created for.”
How about 8-tracks? I’m sure that’s another format you could speak on.
Oh yeah, that was another thing I started getting into. In more recent years, I’ve been collecting blank 8-tracks. I found some people who could record onto the 8-tracks for me, so I started making straight-up bootleg custom ones just for myself [laughs]. I made a Wu-Tang one and a Pharcyde one. I made a Hoagy Carmichael one for a friend. It’s just about nostalgia and keeping it fun. Who doesn’t want a Wu-Tang 8-track?
As we round things up, please summarize the importance of records and collecting in your life.
Something I didn’t touch on about my journey is that it wasn’t always easy. When I was younger, I felt very alone. The reason I turned to records was because they were like therapy for me. It was a way to get away from my troubles. And it was always a very loner thing I did by myself. I was pretty young and just thrifting. All those things I did by myself, and I never would’ve imagined it would lead to meeting so many people and making so many friends. The same people I looked up to are some of my good friends now. And I never foresaw that. I thought it was gonna be doom and gloom, you know? I still turn to music when I’m down.
Lyn Christopher – “I Don’t Want To Hear It Anymore”. Besides its iconic cover photo, Lyn Christopher’s one and only LP from 1973 is notable for the sublime “Take Me With You” and, to a lesser extent, for featuring Paul Stanley and Gene Simmons—pre-KISS—on backing vocals. The album was almost immediately out of print upon its release due to the demise of her label, Paramount.
“I befriended Lyn years ago and always stay in contact with her. It’s wonderful to hear her stories as she shares them with me. Her time at Electric Lady Studios, her days of recording with the guys from KISS, her TV appearances, and also what’s going on in her life currently. She’s someone I look up to as a woman in the music industry and just a really lovely person.”
When I was a lot younger, I didn’t feel, as a young woman, embraced by men in the scene. Things have changed some now. I didn’t want to tell people I got into records because I grew up in a bad home. I wanted to get away from things, and it was very hard to talk about. But now I think it’s important to share those kinds of things and let people know that whatever you’re in it for, that’s your journey and it’s all good.
*This interview is published online in full as it appears in the book Dust & Grooves Vol.2: Further Adventures in Record Collecting
Paola Puente, AKA Double Peas, of the famed Hot Peas & Butta crew, is a record digger, DJ, & collector originally from Chile now based in Las Vegas, who specializes in playing hard to find vinyl rarities. She also curates the Unofficial Museum of Portable Record Players and runs the Funky Little Boxes feature account.
