WaxPhil L.A. #15: Origami Vinyl, Dent May’s Do Things

WPL.A. graphic by Vivian Martinez

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.

After finding myself unable to make it to record shops in Maui, HI and Destin, FL during a pair of vacations earlier this month, I returned home with a renewed craving for the culture of the City of Angels. Though I had researched and even contacted stores, the one-two punch of geography and itinerary did an effective job preventing the intended visits. I was grateful to be traveling, but itched at the thought of being so far away from music. Radio stations in Florida can wear a soul out with their same-12-song playlists, and I’d missed the grand opening of the much-anticipated Mount Analog in Highland Park. So when my return flight touched down Monday afternoon, my stomach butterflied. The city was vibrant through the rose-colored influence of an absent heart swollen with fondness. Los Angeles is a city of musical curiosity shops in every neighborhood and a steady stream of artists roaming the boulevards, and its charm made this particular homecoming oddly nostalgic.

Around three years ago, Origami Vinyl flung open its doors and offered its 100% vinyl wares to the town of Echo Park. The shop’s advent sent waves of excitement through the usual social media suspects, innocently enough, but it also marked the beginning of a cultural shift in L.A.’s music retail landscape. Accompanied by some fellow former-UCLAradio DJs, I visited the store on its first day of business and took home TV On The Radio’s Desperate Youth, Bloodthirsty Babes. I had been delighted by their lack of genre distinctions in their bins, and by their commitment to keeping their store vinyl-only. The shop’s owner, Neil Schield, introduced himself with a warm handshake to each person that walked through the door, taking care to remember their name and note which records they had chosen. His friendliness was effortless and honest, and at once he felt like a neighborhood fixture.

As the business thrived along the morphing face of Sunset Blvd, Neil added employees that shared his hospitable spirit. The shop began curating a weekly event at El Prado where they allowed people to sign up to play their own records, and their reputation was at once cemented in the heart of Echo Park. Origami took ownership of its location and made itself essential, and to visit it was to witness the proud proof.

Monday’s visit was a late one, and I was relieved when I found their doors still open around 8:15. From behind the glass counter, Sean Stentz from local indie outfit No greeted me heartily. A Two Boots pizza cooled near him, and upon the turntable, the latest album from Alberta Cross, entitled Songs of Patience, spun. I made a joke about their glaring similarities to Oasis and immediately cringed, struck by the possibility that someone from the band could be present. On the wall, a reissued copy of Scott Walker’s The Drift teased me, and Sean laughed at how he’d used the record’s single “Jesse” to disturb customers and provoke conversations about Elvis Presley’s stillborn twin brother throughout the week.

Bands like Bell Gardens, Everest and Exploding Flowers represented well throughout the bins, nestled somewhere amongst A. C. Newman, Liars, and Shellac. Bands that I’d heard KXLU DJs hyping all summer were suddenly bursting into living color on their record sleeves, and I headed directly for the “D” bin. The station had recently turned me on to Dent May, and since he’d signed to Animal Collective’s Paw Tracks imprint, I had been looking forward to adding it to my summer rotation. Origami didn’t fail me and I decisively extracted Do Things from the bin for purchase.

Do Things glistens as though it was constructed to be played poolside. The dewy, tender vocal work on tracks like “Parents” and “Tell Her” couples nicely with synthesizer parts reminiscent of Satanic Panic In The Attic, and one can’t help but relax within the suspended notion of summer. It was recorded in Mississippi, and in spite of its sun-drenched aesthetic, “Home Groan” asserted that Dent May has no plans to ever make Southern California home. I listened to the record 5 consecutive times through, charmed by the timeliness of such a purchase, and I highly recommend it to anyone who feels most at home during the month of July.

Origami Vinyl is a legend in its own time, as well as an utter joy to visit. Check out one of their plentiful upcoming in-stores or just pop in to introduce yourself, and check out their ticket sales too! Here’s hoping this special place sticks around for years to come.