CRATERY 74 : Jason Palma

November 1993.

I walked past Yonge-Dundas station sporting baggy jeans and a newly acquired pair of white Adidas Torsions with splashes of fluorescent green and navy blue. I remember cause I had a fluorescent green sweat top and a navy corduroy Gatsby to match.

I used to sport the hat backwards when I was going for the K-Solo “Tell the world my name” look and wear it forwards with the snap off when I switched it up for more of a Master Ace “Take a look around” vibe.

November was hardly new sneaker weather but I didn’t get my first pair of black Tims until December of that year. I walked north past the World’s Biggest Jean store, several currency exchange spots and the flagship HMV and Sam the Record Man locations before arriving at my destination.

Sandwiched between a falafel joint and the infamous Zanzibar gentleman’s club was a non-descript convenience store I was all too familiar with. I entered, averting my attention briefly at the porno VHS wall as I made my way to the back.

I had arrived at Play de record.

It was an auditory feast for an underground music head: a small space in the back of a convenience store stocked full of the latest house, reggae, soca, rare grooves and of course, hip-hop vinyl.

For many, it was also the hottest record shop in Toronto at the time. And one of the guys you could count on seeing behind the counter was Jason Palma.

Palma has been selling records almost as long as I’ve been buying them.

And I say that not just to make Jason feel old.

It’s indicative of how long he’s been putting people on to incredible music.

I remember the day in question because it was a big one in terms of rap releases.

Most folks headed into Play De to buy wax. But I was a cassette man back then and it wasn’t uncommon for an indie store like Play De to get a jump on official tape releases before chains like HMV.

Luckily, there were a still a few copies of the 2 albums we went out there to cop: Tribe’s “Midnight Marauders” and Wu-Tang’s “Enter the 36 chambers”.

I copped the Tribe and my man Rez copped the Wu.

I had just started to get more curious about samples so Palma grabbed a couple of comps from off the shelves and started skimming through them on the tables for me.

“You should grab these” he said, handing me a few volumes of the Jazz Dance Classics series on Luv N Haight. “Last 2 copies”. Spoken like a true salesman.

I left that day with the first “break” records that I ever had outside of my Dad’s collection. Yeah, they were reissues but I didn’t give a shit. I had no idea where to get OG Blackbyrds albums, never mind 24 Carat Black. Up until that point I had been sampling mostly off random jazz and soul cassettes I had stolen from the public library.

Palma was directly responsible for a seismic shift in my collecting habits. And he probably didn’t think much of it – it’s what he did for most people every day.

And it’s what he still does for customers, as co-owner of the store he once he used to just work for.

Just recently he upsold me BBNG’s “Velvet/Boogie no.69” single while I was picking up a copy of the new Tuxedo LP at Play De.

He’s still putting me on to joints.

My purchases on that day back in ‘93 turned out to be pretty significant.

Midnight Marauders went on to become my favourite hip-hop album and those comps basically fueled an already budding desire to find original copies of the records featured.

That wouldn’t have happened without Jason Palma.

How did you start collecting rare grooves?

I was always really interested in music since I was little kid. I used to go to Sam The Record Man in Eglinton Square and buy 45s. When I was a teenager I started getting interested in DJing and Hip Hop. I got so excited when I heard an old funk or jazz tune that was sampled in a rap song. I remember hearing James Brown’s “Blind Man Can See It” while watching the movie “Black Caesar” and being blown away that it was sampled for Lord Finesse’s “Funky Technician”. From there on in I just fell