WPL.A. graphic by Vivian Martinez

“Waxing Philosophical, L.A.” is DUM DUM’s monthly column written by Christina Gubala, co-founder of L.A.’s premier cassette-tape label, Complicated Dance Steps. A die-hard vinyl collector, you can find her spinning records at local bars near you.

Our city has a continuing history thick with vinyl love, now more than ever with record shops opening their doors instead of shuttering. Each week, Gubala breaks down a fresh new wax purchase, and writes about the record store as well, mapping it as part of L.A.’s history in the making.

For the entire month of June 2012, a mangled black bookmark with a sleek embossed logo accompanied me everywhere I went. I’d acquired said bookmark outside of a warehouse party in Atwater Village at 3a.m., stepping out for a breather while DJs Eddie Ruscha and Thomas Bullock (Map of Africa) completely annihilated the dance floor with their deep cuts. The bookmark served as a reminder, not only of the surreal nightlife that this city can provide on any given night, but also of the store it advertized: the forthcoming Mount Analog in Highland Park.

The store was on my radar before it had even opened, and every day leading up to its grand opening, curiosity mounted. I heard rumors of their professional listening stations and was informed by multiple sources that they had “spared no expense” on the interior. The bill for the grand opening party included DJ sets from Slayron (Peaking Lights), Lovefingers, Jimi Hey, Amanda Brown and Carlos Nino, not to mention live performances from David Scott Stone, John Wiese and LA Vampires, showcasing the talents of the some of the finest and most discerning selectors in Los Angeles, and setting an awfully high bar for grand openings going forward. Needless to say, when I finally made my way to the shop a few weeks into their tenure on Figueroa, it wasn’t without expectations.

Last Sunday afternoon, Mt. Analog hosted a release party for Light In The Attic’s Country Funk 1969-1975 compilation. The party proudly featured the most pertinent DJ set possible: one from the compilation’s producer Zach Cowie (aka DJ Turquoise Wisdom), and a live set from Burger Records’ The Abigails, so when I cruised past 59th Ave. I spotted the storefront via the bevy of summery patrons who’d spilled out onto the sidewalk. I weaved past them and squeezed into the chic space, only to be met by Ariel Pink’s hapless mug on the cover of The Wire UK. The magazines were scattered strategically over their broad wooden display table, peeking from behind records from Vatican Shadow and Cleaners From Venus. Will Oldham’s most recent art book, CD copies of Soul Jazz’s Deutsche Elektronische Musik Volumes I and II, and potted succulents were among the charming accoutrements populating the sleek shelving. The bright blue back wall hosted a plump couch covered in guitars and perfectly poised pairs of headphones ripe for the testing.

Along the left wall, joyful white script proclaimed “L.A.’s Best” and presented records from 100% Silk and Peaking Lights. To the right, bins constructed from iron beams held records divided by genre and era. More recent records of the rock variety were lumped together as “Now Sounds” while the “Out Sounds” section contained a collection of Krautrock that could make any fan of the genre swoon. Redelius and Vangelis records snugly fit alongside an original copy of Franco Falsini’s Naso Freddo, and in case the rare original proved too expensive, a shiny new copy of the reissue winked from across the room. World music, reggae, country and folk occupied the store’s center bins, and while the reggae section was admittedly scant, its contents were entirely tempting. It was obvious that section was curated with loving thouroughness one would expect from shopkeepers Mahssa Tahginia and Zane Landreth, both of whom were present and grinning that busy Sunday. Zane circulated jauntily, readjusting the shop’s wares and shaking hands with everyone in his path, while Mahssa manned the register, flanked by Country Funk compilations and t-shirts. To her right, Turquoise Wisdom cued up his next track on the turntables and high-fived an appreciative listener, revealing a Waylon Jennings tattoo, thus rounding out the afternoon’s complete attention to detail. Mount Analog was pitch perfect, elegant yet inviting, a completely pleasant space to browse and enjoy music.

Without question, I grabbed my $22 copy of Country Funk (a reasonable price for which I was awfully grateful) and tore off the wrapper. The sepia gatefold cover opened to reveal charming hand-drawn portraits of each of the artists featured on the compilation, and an insert provided photos of the original vinyl cover art. Thick low-ends and sexy percussive intros, coupled with Fogerty-esque vocals and southern swagger run rampant through each track, but perhaps the most prevalent theme on the comp is that of narration. Bobbie Gentry channels Aretha as she recounts losing her virginity at age 16 in “He Made A Woman Out of Me,” while Mac Davis’s infectious and hilarious “Lucas Was A Redneck” paints a picture of a salty bully who “died like his daddy, with a belly full of rum.” All four sides of Country Funk tell tales of cross country travel and spending time with “street people,” dusty and sexy and swollen with summertime bombast, utterly fantastic. Like the store from whence it came, Country Funk surpassed expectations and I look forward to playing every single track in my upcoming DJ sets.

Mount Analog has raised the bar for music retail in L.A. I look forward to the many afternoons I plan on spending in their windowbox listening stations, flipping through the Al Green and Bill Withers records in their “Under $5 bin” and daydreaming about someday taking home their wall records. Hope to see you there!