I’m a sucker for vintage, underground newspapers—and even more so for their back-page ads. Sure, the content is great. Some of the articles in Berkeley Barb, The Oracle, and Open City are essential counterculture journalism. But the ads? That’s where the real treasures lie.
They’re flimsy things, barely held together if in collectible condition. Flip through and you’ll find offers for Super 8 adult films, pen pals from prison, rock shows I wish I’d seen—and the occasional rare gem you never knew existed.
Like this one.
Tucked away in the Open City First Anniversary Issue was an ad that stopped me cold. A hand-drawn offer for a long-playing record of poetry. One side: Charles Bukowski. One side: Steve Richmond. Each reading his own work. Send 3 bucks to Earth Rose in Venice, California, and you’d get it.
I’ve seen this record. I’ve heard it. I even managed to own one. But I’ve never seen this ad. And trust me—being both a Bukowski and a record geek, I would’ve stumbled upon it somewhere.
The record is mythical-level rare. Maybe a dozen copies survive. It’s so rare most Bukowski collectors don’t even know about it. Oh sure, they know 90 Minutes in Hell or certainly the few released later in his life. But this one? Richmond issued it himself under his Earth Rose imprint. And the story I was told? After releasing it, Richmond asked Bukowski what he thought about the record.
Buk’s reply: You sound like T.S. Eliot.
You sound like T.S. Eliot.
That was that. Richmond destroyed the rest of the pressing; only the handful he managed to sell survive.
And the ad survives, too. Maybe it was the only one Richmond could afford—I don’t know. But this is what keeps me thumbing through paper that feels like it might disintegrate at any moment—just to find one more gem.
Very cool, thanks for sharing.