CDs, Concerts Are in the Mix Aboveground

By CHRIS BURRELL

When Mike Mackey informed his boss Wednesday that he was going to a
Foo Fighters concert and would be late to work the next day, he probably
knew he wasn't going out on a limb.

At most any other workplace, such a declaration might brand the
employee a slacker, but at Aboveground Records in Edgartown, store owner
Michael Barnes lives - and works - by a whole different set
of standards.

"That's okay," he told his 19-year-old staffer.
"We support the rock."

Not that a record store should have a philosophy, but Mr.
Barnes' simple response - stated with a grin - kind of
sums up an attitude and an approach that has created a unique store on
the Vineyard.

The place is more than just laid-back. Mr. Barnes happily calls it a
clubhouse, but even that label falls short. Yes, customers come in and
hang out. And yes, up above the CDs and vinyl, the shelves hold dozens
of Star Wars figures, a bust of Elvis, a half-eaten bag of barbecue
potato chips and a snapshot of Mr. Barnes' two-year-old son,
Henry.

But those are just the physical trappings. The real scene has to be
heard - and not just in the music. Underneath the tunes playing
from the store stereo system is the conversation, the banter and a
friendly vibe that makes you feel like you've walked on the set of
some homegrown, late-night talk show.

And like a talk show, Aboveground Records actually wields some
power. This month alone, Mr. Barnes and his manager, Chris Liberato,
have helped produce two rock concerts, one of them in the parking lot
outside the store and the other at the Atlantic Connection in Oak
Bluffs.

The show at the Atlantic Connection last Friday night teamed up the
prolific Island band Kahoots with a Baltimore group called The Oranges,
playing "high-energy pop punk," as Mr. Liberato put it.

"I could have brought that band on my own and might have
gotten 75 people, but with [their] support, we brought in 150
people," says Michael Santoro, the manager at the AC. "That
goes a long way for how Mike is respected on the Island. I
wouldn't have taken a chance otherwise."

The duo at Aboveground plans to put on more concerts this summer,
both at the Atlantic Connection and at Offshore Ale in Oak Bluffs. Their
motivation is clearly born out of frustration with the dominant Island
music scene, which they say is often over-priced and seriously outdated
when it comes to admission prices and the acts that are consistently
booked.

It's a matter of numbers. Do you want to pay $22 to see a band
"who was kind of good ten years ago?" asks Mr. Barnes.
"There are a lot of people who like current rock music on the
Island who want to go to a cheap show," he adds.

Mr. Barnes proudly points to the cover charge at last Friday's
show - $5. Musicians from The Oranges slept on couches back at his
house in Vineyard Haven and used much of Kahoots' equipment.

Producing shows isn't making Aboveground Records any richer,
says Mr. Barnes, but they are definitely having fun in the process. That
same enthusiasm can be felt when you hear Mr. Barnes and Mr. Liberato
talk about the pop music being produced by Islanders. They clearly have
their favorites.

Mr. Barnes, who opened Aboveground almost eight years ago when he
was just 21, can still remember when he had his first taste of Kahoots.
That encounter started because one of the lead songwriters, Elisha
Wiesner, was hanging in his store, playing the Pac-Man video game that
used to have a home in the shop.

"I got [their album] New Speed of Sound, and I freaked
out," says Mr. Barnes. "They're still my favorite
band."

On Wednesday, one of the members of the now-defunct Angry Custodians
came in and bought some CDs. When he walked out, Mr. Barnes
couldn't help but reminisce back to his early days when those guys
were only teenagers.

"One of them was just 14 years old," says Mr. Barnes.
"I said I have a four-track. I'll come and record you if you
want. It was this raw, really cool thing."

Now, Mr. Liberato, who is 25, raves about a new band made up of
students from the regional high school called Loops.
"They're not afraid to do something unusual," he says.

"The high school bands are really good now," says Mr.
Barnes. "When I was in high school, we played cover songs, and it
was really lame."

Mr. Barnes admits he likes living vicariously through the bands that
are somehow connected to his store. "I get a charge out of it.
Part of it's like living the dream. There's nothing
I'd rather do than be in band," he says.

But the affinity for the Island's young rock musicians also
seems to pay off in the store. "The more music being played helps
the scene and helps the record store," he says.

Even his young clerk, Mr. Mackey, fits the mold. He's the bass
player in Slow Leslie, a popular band that came out of the high school.
And with the right customer, Mr. Mackey makes the ideal salesman.

This week, Mr. Mackey got to help out his band's drummer, Sam
Mason, who wandered in after school. "You got any
recommendations?" Mr. Mason asks.

"What are you in the mood for, something chill? You know
Massive Attack?" he says and then walks over to pop in the CD,
filling the store with a heavy bass and raspy vocals.

Minutes later, Mr. Mason - also the drummer in Loops -
is laying out the cash for two CDs and telling Mr. Barnes to thank Chris
for his latest tip.

Mr. Barnes knows most customers by first name, and he chastises
himself when he can't remember a name. Michael Barnes also has a
gift for gabbing with the customers. He's ready with jokes and
happy greetings, urging his friends to call in sick to work or thinking
about telling them that he's installed a live webcam in the eyes
of Elvis up on the shelf.

He credits his father - the legendary trucker, mover and
auctioneer Clarence (Tripp) Barnes - with passing along the
extrovert genes. "My ability to talk very much came from my
father," he says "My whole life on the boat we would hang
out in the lunchroom, and he would talk to everybody. It's a show.
It definitely can become a show."

There are few rules on the show. They don't sell edited
albums, and they would prefer if customers didn't ask them what
they think of the Sally Taylor album.

There are also few lulls in a day at Aboveground. There's his
Mom, Judy Cronig, who comes in sometime around noon and gets a hug.
"She tracks everything and knows when it's safe to buy
things and when it's not," he says.

The cash register keeps on ringing, and Mr. Barnes admits he's
not worrying about the bottom line anymore. In a typical day, they are
restocking the shelves with up to 400 CDs a day. A solid 10 per cent of
the business now comes from selling vinyl records.

The key is honesty and no pressure. "This isn't the
business where you want to get stuff sold to you," he says.

"Chris is awesome. He knows all that German minimal
stuff," says Vineyard deejay Diana Reilly. "I go in there,
and I know I'm talking to people who really love music.
They're completely straight up."