Double Clutch

Today I have a double dose of those Earth Rockers, the road dogs that they are, Clutch.  The discs featured are copies of Clutch's latest effort, 2015's brilliant Psychic Warfare, one in standard black and the other a Newbury Comics exclusive, limited to just 500 pressed copies done in  a gorgeous translucent red.  Now, I actively sought out the red copy of this disc, and after two months of searching and passing over opened copies, high priced copies and reasonably priced copies offered simultaneously with that one other disc that I JUST HAD TO HAVE RIGHT THAT MOMENT OR I MIGHT HAVE DIED, I finally found a copy under $30 still sealed and not so far away from me that I was going to have to donate a kidney to cover shipping, so I FINALLY scored a red Newbury edition for my collection before they were all snatched up and got it at a respectable price for such an awesome piece of wax.

Now, the story behind the black version is just as boring, but a little bit more odd.  I was unaware that Clutch had partnered up with the Susan Komen group and 15 other bands, to assemble a number of special albums to promote awareness of breast cancer some time after 2012 while also raising money to help support breast cancer research.  The product of that partnership was the pink vinyl album promoting eight of Clutch's tracks featuring strong female characters - La Curandera, with album art by a strong female no less, Becky Cloonan, who's claim to fame at DC Comics was that she was the first woman to draw The Bat - yes the vigilante himself, Batman.

Now, I won an auction on eBay for a sealed copy of La Curandera, and ONLY, that singular sealed copy of La Curandera.  I made certain after the fact, going back and reading all of the fine print, etc., to see if I missed something and make certain I had not screwed up and underpaid the seller or something.  Anyhow, a week after the auction my regular mail carrier dutifully pulls to my back door and I meet her at my back porch steps and accept this package containing La Curandera that I have been tracking for a few days.  I open it open and greedily grab up my pink vinyl album, tear through the plastic and prepare to unsheath the vinyl for the first time when my 11-year-old daughter calls my attention to the discarded box, "Dad is there supposed to be another record in there?"  Me, "No, dear, why?"

Her, "Well, you better come look..."

I have messaged this seller three different ways on at least seven different occasions since I obtained the package and I have yet to receive a response from him.  At this point I'm calling the album "officially MINE!"