record shelving


etsyfindoftheday 4 | FRIDAY FRENZY | 3.24.17

solid wood vinyl/LP stands by supercoolthings

music lovers and vinyl fanatics will totally dig the LP storage options at supercoolthings’ etsy shop — there are wooden walnut stands for records like this pair here, plus record player stands, storage benches and credenzas, and more! rock on.


“Would you stop messing around?” You laughed as you pushed him playfully, going back to your stack of records and continued placing them on the shelves. Jesse smiled and shook his head.

“But I like seeing you smile more than work,” He answered with a happy grin, placing a few more records on the shelves. You rolled your eyes, a soft blush rising in your cheeks at his comment.

“Well you’re here to work, not to make me smile,” You giggled and looked at the silly boy you had come to like quite a bit.

“Well then we’ll have to go out some time, so I can make you smile when I’m not supposed to be working,” He chuckled although he was serious. You blushed again but couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

“Yeah,” You answered with a smile, “Yeah, we will.”


On this day in music history: June 13, 1970 - “Let It Be”, the twelfth studio album by The Beatles hits #1 on the Billboard Top 200 for 4 weeks. Produced by George Martin and Phil Spector, it is recorded at Apple Studios, Abbey Road, and Twickenham Film Studios in London from February 1968, January – February 1969, January and March – April 1970. Following the often acrimonious sessions for “The White Album” in 1968, the album is originally conceived as a project that documents the band working in the studio, recording in as basic of a way as possible, without overdubbing, and outside musicians. With the ultimate goal of The Beatles performing live again in front of an audience. Unfortunately the bad feelings and arguing that started during the previous album intensifies, with George Harrison walking out eight days into the sessions. Eventually he does return, but things are still tense between the four. The album and accompanying film shot during the recording sessions are shelved for nearly a year before the decision is made to release them. Producer Phil Spector is given carte blanche to work with the hours and hours tapes to shape them into a releasable album. However, it strays far from its original concept. In the UK and Canada, the album is also issued as a lavish limited edition box set featuring a full color picture book with photos by photographer Ethan Russell. Originally released on CD in 1987, it is remastered and reissued in 2009, and as a 180 gram vinyl LP in 2012. “Let It Be” is certified 4x Platinum in the US by the RIAA.


Don’t Touch My Records! - Diner (by senorrogers)

So this is a cataloging librarian’s worst nightmare (or an anal-retentive husband’s), but this is such a great scene with a young Ellen Barkin and Daniel Stern.

SHREVIE: Have you been playing my records?

BETH: Yeah, so?
SHREVIE: So didn’t I tell you the procedure?

BETH: Yeah you told me all about it Shrevie, they have to be in alphabetical order.

SHREVIE: And what else?
BETH: Ugh they have to be filed alphabetically and according to year is what, ok?

SHREVIE: And what else?  What else?

BETH: I don’t know.

SHREVIE: You don’t know. Well let me give you a hint, ok? I found my James Brown record filed under the “J”s, instead of the “B”s.  I don’t know who taught you to alphabetize. But to top it off he’s in the rock and roll section instead of the R&B section.  How could you do that?

BETH: It’s too complicated Shrevie. See, every time I pull out a record there’s this whole procedure I have to go through.  I just want to hear the music, that’s all.


Got around to reorganizing my E7 collection a little. Top shelf for plushes, next is JP DVDs and small charms, then NA DVDs and BDs alongside manga, CDs and novels (alongside misc. items) and the lowest shelf has my official artbooks/magazines along with 2 building kits for Terminus series LFOs.
To the left of the shelves (and in the last picture) are my mini shelves of E7 figures. Mostly Robot Damashii.


he first heard her play this record at her mother’s house a week after her remission. 

in her mother’s living room, scully ran her fingers over the records shelved next to the books, the intricate way she looked at each title and fraying sleeve building a warm energy in the mostly-vacant room. there was something about being in someone else’s living room, he figured, that made him feel both comfortable and incredibly uneasy; though the elements of home were stacked up throughout the room, they were never the elements of his own home, of anywhere he’d lived, so all of the warmth was artificial for him even though she relished in it.

the room was dark as she pulled “new skin for the old ceremony” off of the shelf, and in the kitchen, there was a plate of warm cookies waiting for them, maggie’s little way of convincing mulder that he was welcome here even if bill was still in town, still celebrating his sister’s miraculous recovery, and still questioning how exactly she could have been saved. with the sky turning to an evening red, she took the record out of the sleeve, her hands as graceful and steady as a surgeon’s, and when she brought it onto the aging record player, she seemed practiced in her motions until she set the needle down midway through the first song, skipping the introduction altogether.

when it came to her illness, he could never question her about it, could never bring himself to ask why she gained atypical quirks or did things like this, stand silently in the living room and play a record for no reason; as “chelsea hotel no. 2″ started to play, he wondered what she could mean by this song, if she’d even meant to play it in the first place, but as he took a slow breath, the record bringing a lower pitch to the evening, he let those wonders fade away. padding over to the window, she leaned against the sill even though she had plenty enough strength to stand on her own. the record skipped on the word limousine; uncomfortably, he stayed in the middle of the room while she stuck to the edge. 

on that sunday morning, she’d asked him to come over - just for the afternoon, she’d said, a casual invitation that he would’ve taken with ease had she been in her own home, but because this was familial territory, he’d been hesitant - for reasons he didn’t know. though he figured she wanted his company, she didn’t seem to need him specifically; they’d made sandwiches for lunch, played a half-assed game of monopoly, laughed at times, all things they did normally, but he knew that his presence was replaceable, that any of her other friends could’ve come over instead. don’t ask, he told himself, but as he approached her by the window, he needed know.

“scully?” he asked quietly, deeply, in tune with the record.

half-turning, she faced him at an angle, her emotions unreadable. 

“why did you invite me out here?”

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