By Scott Westerman
Maybe it’s the middle age, but I’m getting pretty picky about my tunes. I’ve written here before about my disdain for the state of my beloved radio business and how my constant complaining motivated The Queen to tell me to “shut up and make your own radio station”. I did and we have a pair of computers here at the Westermanation that stream our faves to a Sonos box and to my beloved Chumby.
For example. When I first heard “All Right Now” by Free, it was on an A&M Record DJ 45. One side had the airplay edit and the other had a brilliant longer version, complete with that great guitar riff, panning from left channel to right. The two bar, four chord hook we’ve came to love was tight and the entire production had that A&M trademark just-right compression that sounded great on a car radio speaker.
When the album came out, my buddy John Schumacher, bought it immediately and we retreated to his music room to hear “All Right Now” in it’s full LP glory. It wasn’t the same. For whatever reason, the group re-recorded the tune for the album and, over the years, that’s the version that has found it’s way into radio rotations.
There’s no comparison. The original 45 rocks in an entirely different universe. I know that first hand because during my DJ years, I played both of em at record hops and the original always got more people on the dance floor. But we never hear it, and nobody seems to care.
Except Dick Rosemont.
Back in the mid 70s, I was doing my best to matriculate through Michigan State University with enough of a grade point average to motivate my parents to continue to write tuition checks. But my true passion was on the air and, along with Jeff Smith, Steve Schram, Jim Marshall, Mark Bashore, Dennis Kauff and Katy Baetz, spent way too much time over at WMSN, the student station that broadcast over the campus electrical system from the bowels of the Student Services Center.
Vinyl was king then and when Mark Westcott came to visit us from CBS records, he fed our addiction with the DJ copies of 45s and LPs that the record companies passed around to incite airplay. It was a system that worked well and, along with the thousands and thousands of records that the students bought each term, there was a robust market for favorites, both old and new.
Now as then, vinyl is Dick Rosemont’s passion. Any of you who fit my demographic can instantly remember the sights and smells of the used record store. The album artwork, the posters that expanded album overs to wide screen (Remember that incredible shooting-star cover on the Weather Report “Mysterious Travler” LP? What I wouldn’t give to have that baby framed in my home office!), the hint of cannabis that was a subtle aromatic undercurrent throughout the store, and the inevitable eclectic tunes that spun on the Fisher turntable and rumbled out of a pair of Sansui speakers, carefully placed for maximum stereo sensation.
Dick’s store, “Flat, Black & Circular”, was the center of music culture in East Lansing. You could find out where Josh White, Jr. was playing and get the line-up of bar bands at the Alley Eye, Dooleys and The Stables. For a time, when we distributed our own WMSN record surveys, they had a place on Dick’s front counter. But what made the place special is the huge variety of black plastic that filled rack after rack. Looking for “Take Off Your Muddy Boots” by the Graheme Edge Band? Dick could find it for you. He had Beatles Parlophone imports before the CD versions became cool. And true enthusiasts looking for true originals still seek out Dick Rosemont for his encyclopedic knowledge and worldwide connections. If it’s out there he can find it.
Flat, Black and Circular is in it’s fourth decade. While other record stores have closed and CD sales continue their free fall, Dick’s niche continues to thrive. His audience continues to grow in part because his web presence at flatblackandcircular.com has expanded his market worldwide. If you visit the site, be sure to check out his link list. It’s there that you’ll find a connection to The Originals Project. Like me, Dick chases down the earliest versions of popular and hit songs… often the best renditions, the ones that should be getting the airplay now. And he’s got the rarities, too. I play Albert Hammond’s version of “I’m a Train” on my personal radio station, but never knew that it was originally recorded in 1968 by The Colors of Love. I gotta get a copy!
Drill down on the link list over at The Originals Project, and you’ll find a connection keener13.com. The WKNR tribute site has been my labor of love for over 5 years and recently Dick made a contribution to our archives. I was looking for a couple of rare WKNR News albums and threw out an all points bulletin on the site. Of course, Dick Rosemont knew about these originals, and has pristine copies in his collection.
As music continues to evolve from albums to MP3 files, we’re losing much of the magic that we felt in the days when records were flat, black and circular, had five tracks per side and boasted cover art that at times approached museum quality. Dick Rosemont is one of the few conjurers who can take us back to those times. And the world is a better place as a result.
