Back to Bataan

Unfortunately, the eBay auction confirmed many of my worst fears about the internecine world of boys (punk-record collecting seems to be a very male phenomenon) and their passions. Midway through that first auction, I got an e-mail from “Mike,” who identified himself as the “high bidder.” He said that in the event he won, he might not be able to pay for the record. He wanted out of the auction. I thought, Poor kid, he’s just some overzealous punk. But before I wrote back, I checked him out on eBay. He had 125 favorable comments after his name, and based on his bidding history appeared to be a major collectordealer. He was currently bidding on 11 different punk items. I gave it some thought, then wrote back saying I was holding him to his bid. I didn‘t hear any more from him. Then, the day before the auction closed, a bidder came in $2.50 above his high bid. Mike was off the hook. When the auction ended, I contacted the winner. Zip. I tried two more times. No response, no payment.

Given the fact that the auction had resulted in no sale, I re-listed the single. This time there were 11 bids. During the auction I got an e-mail informing me that there was a rumor circulating that I was sitting on a pile of singles. I wrote back a saying it was true. That prompted two bid retractions, with the explanations “found a cheaper copy” and “just found another copy of this record today.” Twelve minutes before the second auction closed, the bidder who actually won the single in the first auction came in again with the high bid. In eBay-speak that’s “sniping” -- picking off an item at the last minute. As I was morbidly watching the final moments of the auction, I canceled his high bid. With one minute to go, a collector from North Carolina submitted the winning bid of $177.50.

Yet the intrigue continued. Mark had assembled a package of Maids memorabilia for me to give to Roger Mah. It included original press materials, Mabuhay posters, fliers for the records, lyric sheets and Xeroxes of all the paperwork behind making the record. He sent it UPS from Berkeley. When I received the package, I opened it to find 17 rebate brochures for Rite Aid drug stores. There was not one item of Maids-related paper in the envelope. No note, no anything. I immediately got on the phone with Mark. Each of us thought the other was pulling some sort of joke. After many calls to UPS, it appeared that the original mailing label from Mark‘s package had fallen off and somehow gotten attached to the package I received. What other explanation was there? UPS is still conducting its own investigation.

In the last couple of months I’ve given the Maids more thought than I have in the past 20 years. How the egg the Maids originally laid became gilded is anyone‘s guess. I e-mailed the winner of the second auction and asked him why people were so hot for the record. He wrote back: “i’m not sure, but it‘s a rocking a-side. nice fuzzed out guitar.” Before I sent it off, I listened to the record to make sure there were no skips or scratches on it.

I’m going back to Bataan, back to Bataan

I want to see that Japanese man

Back to Bataan, back to Bataan

I want to see that Japanese man

When music is working, it transports you to another place. When Howlin‘ Wolf sings “I Asked for Water (She Gave Me Gasoline)” or Iggy sings “Lust for Life,” the world I live in changes for the duration of the song. Though the memories associated with “Bataan” give me pleasure -- the loose “fuck-all” attitude of the band, the rehearsals, the design of the sleeve -- the tune just isn’t transcendent. It‘s disposable, at best a garage-band curio. Thus the febrile e-mails and phone calls from collectors seemed unwarranted. Couldn’t these guys discern the difference between okay and great? It‘s as though someone in all sincerity told you that his consuming passion in life is The Brady Bunch. How could you respect that? I found myself resenting anyone who admired the record. But then I caught myself.

I don’t want a mindset that views ardor as a fault. The real problem was my perspective. These people were clamoring for something I had a hand in producing. I should enjoy it. I didn‘t necessarily understand their motivation, but I did love the idea of the mad pursuit. The bonus would be if someone actually did get taken away by the tune. And this was a rare instance where a band didn’t sign away its success. Maybe Mark could recoup his initial investment.

So from time to time I‘ll throw a copy on eBay, and whatever happens, happens. God bless the collectors! God save the queen! Let anarchy, and the inexplicable, reign supreme.