Working for Rhino has many benefits (the LP-shaped swimming pool, personal jet packs, and those hazy Las Vegas weekends...), but the one perk I enjoy the most is being surrounded by a ton of super cool music. The last time I had the good fortune to be in the regular company of so many of my favorite albums (or CDs, natch) was when I worked at Tower Records in the sleepy little burg of West Hollywood. Sure I had to live on Fritos and cheap beer, but it was more than worth it. Not only did I have every piece of music I could ever want at my fingertips, but there was always a good chance that our clientele would include a rock star or two. What follows is a list of some of my favorite albums that also serve as mementos of the times that I met a few of my musical idols.

ERIC CLAPTON
461 Ocean Boulevard
It was a gorgeous Saturday afternoon in the spring of 1996 when I had the good fortune to meet "God" face to face. I helped Mr. Clapton find several CDs and was intrigued at his interest in the current R&B scene (it was around this time that he hit the top of the charts again with the Babyface collaboration "Change The World"). Back at the register while ringing up his transaction, I noticed his credit card said Eric P. Clapton. "What's the P stand for?" I asked. He beamed up at me, and exclaimed rather proudly, "Patrick!" I don't know if that qualifies as a revelation, but it sure was the first time I had ever heard Eric Clapton's middle name. He then did me the honor of autographing a copy of 461 Ocean Boulevard. Our business done and pleasantries exchanged, I watched "God" stroll out the door and hop into a Honda. I will always remember Mr. Clapton as a good natured, down-to-earth gentleman.

BRUCE SPRINGSTEEN
Greetings From Asbury Park
The employees at Tower had a pretty good system of alerting each other when a famous musician was in the store- seconds after that celebrity walked through the door, every employee in every corner of the building would know. I even carried my friend (and coworker) Kevin Ray's phone number on a little piece of paper that said "Open in case of Elton John or Bruce Springsteen sighting." Well, it was another beautiful weekend day when in walks Bruce Springsteen with his wife (and E Street band member) Patti Scialfa. Phone calls were made and CDs rifled through to find the perfect one to carry The Boss' signature. I was looking for Born To Run (a classic, plus the white cover is good for signing), but of course we were out of it. So, I went for his debut, Greetings From Asbury Park. Just before hitting up Bruce for an autograph, my friend Marc recommended that I ask Patti to sign it too. He said it would make a good impression. Being a young, dumb, and impressionable lad myself, I nodded cautiously and made my way toward New Jersey's favorite son (apologies to Jon Bonjovi). After Bruce signed the CD, I asked Patti to sign it, at which point they both gave me an odd look. She politely threw down her John Hancock, and I made my way back to the information booth. I've always kind of regretted asking for her signature, but in the end it doesn't matter. I've got a great memento and a goofy story to go along with it.

ELVIS COSTELLO
Armed Forces
Sometimes, when a famous musician was strolling through the aisles and shopping, one of the clerks running the store CD player would make a vain attempt at cleverness. The next thing you knew "Little Red Corvette" would be pumping from the wall-mounted speakers, and Prince would be scowling at us from a few rows away. Well, I decided to try my hand at this one day when I spied Elvis Costello perusing our World Music section. However, I was determined not to come off as some kind of ham-fisted ninny. So, I decided to get a little obscure and pop on a Squeeze track that he had produced and sang backing vocals on (unfortunately, the mists of time have wiped the name of the song from my feeble sieve of a brain). I watched as Elvis stopped what he was doing, looked up in the direction of one of the speakers, bobbed his head and smiled. Mission accomplished! Later, when he was checking out, I approached him in line and asked if he would please sign my copy of Armed Forces (a record that I was really grooving on at the time and which is currently on a short list of CDs that I would like to have buried with me). He pleasantly obliged, and I never mentioned the Squeeze song (too nervous), but I will always remember the day that I played DJ for Elvis Costello.

LOU REED
The Velvet Underground & Nico
Lou Reed did an in-store signing around the time of Set The Twilight Reeling. We had in-store events quite often, but I wasn't scheduled to work this one. So, I decided to make the 2 hour bus sojourn from my apartment in Sherman Oaks to this momentous wingding. Upon arrival, I spied Lou sitting at a table set up in the main aisle. He was stone-faced and silent. The signing was just about to begin and there were employees scurrying around trying to make sure everything was ready to go (i.e. the right kind of tea for Lou, enough pens for signing, etc.). I clutched my copy of the first Velvets CD (The Velvet Underground & Nico) as I waited at the front of the line (another perk of working at Tower; we didn't have to wait forever in line to get something signed). Before I knew it I was face to face with the "Rock 'N' Roll Animal" himself. And it was then that I realized that everything I'd ever read about him was absolutely true. In the time it took me to hand him my CD, there was not a doubt in my mind that this little New Yorker was one of the most intimidating people I had ever met. I was about to ask him if he could personalize the CD to "Mac," when I caught his gaze that told me our time together was at an end. Despite the fact I didn't get to have a sweet "touchy feely" time with Lou, it was still a memorable experience, and my signed copy of The Velvet Underground & Nico is still one of my most prized possessions.

MORRISSEY
Viva Hate
I'll wrap up this sextet of reminiscences with an encounter that had parallels to the Second Coming of Christ if you were a music fan who came of age in the '80s. The day that Morrissey entered our shop, every employee (male & female) made a mad dash to the M section of Rock (rumor had it that the Moz wouldn't sign Smiths CDs). I joined the throng (I actually missed the Smiths phenomenon and had gotten into Morrissey during his solo career), and proceeded to snatch up a copy of Viva Hate. Morrissey (along with some record company guy he had in tow) approached the information booth while I was still fumbling around looking for a pen. He was taller than I expected, somewhat shy, and very polite. He was looking for anything that we had by the band Generation X (Billy Idol's old outfit). Of course, we were fresh out of this band, but I took the opportunity to ask Morrissey to autograph my CD, and he graciously accepted. As we were having this exchange, the record company guy made a big display of asking me if I would like to see Morrissey play in Los Angeles again (it had been a little while since his last L.A. show, and I think that he was between labels at the time). I replied "of course," but the whole scenario was a little creepy and I could definitely tell that Morrissey was embarrassed. So we shook hands and went our separate ways. As I was standing in the info booth later that day, I looked over my signed copy of Viva Hate and smiled. I didn't have much, but I had this...and I still do.

-- Mac Dunlop