I’m not from Toledo originally, and even after seven years, I often still feel like an outsider here. One place where I always felt welcomed was Culture Clash Records. It has always been a refuge for all types in the city, due to the existence of one man, Pat O’Connor.
On December 27, 2016, Pat passed away. Our community has lost someone who changed lives through his love of music and our town.
I could always walk into Culture Clash Records and Pat would ask me about my life and what I was listening to. He would suggest albums as if they were prescriptions to make my days better, because, in fact, they were. Pat always reminded me of the power of music to make our lives cooler, happier, more worth living.
Pat was the same age as my father and loved music in a similar way, one that made him forever young and forever cool. When I introduced them, they hit it off immediately, talking about turntables, the bands they’d seen live and albums they loved. On my dad’s birthday last November, I took him to Culture Clash to hang out and talk music with Pat. When I shared the news of Pat’s passing, my father said in disbelief, “But I just saw him…”
At Pat’s visitation, the line of people attending extended all the way out the door, and I could see that what I’d always felt when visiting his store was something he beautifully and freely gave to each person who knew him. The pain of losing him, and the space that is left in this town, is so great it can feel overwhelming.
But then I remember: in each person he talked to— all of his kind words and the music he loved lives on. You could fill a book with all the wonderful stories people have about Pat. These are only a few, but I hope they illustrate just how much he meant to those around him.
Thank you, Pat. For everything. We miss you.
In memory of Pat O’Connor (1955-2016)
The first part of this Pat playlist of musical memories comes from the person who knew and loved him the most, his wife, Marcia Childers O’Connor, who plans to keep Culture Clash Records open. Though he is no longer with us, we can remember him through the music he so deeply loved. And the songs play on.
Marcia Childers O’Connor
This is really cool…..I was running errands. All of a sudden the 13th Floor Elevators started blasting out of my phone! You’re Gonna Miss Me.
It was really loud. I could not turn it down. I could not turn it off! I finally turned it off. But it came back on three more times…
Chad Olson
Fran Capitanelli’s Kave Talk
Pat knew I loved power-pop, beginning with ‘70s acts like Big Star. In 2011, he recommended “Kave Talk” by Fran Capitanelli — an album ignored by both critics and fans, that we predicted would one day be one of those “lost classics” collectors seek out. Pat always championed the music he loved, no matter how small the audience. He had eclectic tastes in music and could find just the right title to open a door for his customers to explore a genre with which they might otherwise be unfamiliar.
Ricky Walker
Gil Scott Heron’s Real Eyes
My son, Ricky T., has special needs. Laying down with him and playing records was an important ritual; something we could enjoy together. I mentioned listening to Gil Scott Heron with Ricky T. One day, Pat gave me copy of a Gil Scott Heron’s Real Eyes with “Your Daddy Loves You” on it because he thought I’d like to play it for Ricky T.
Larry Meyer
Gloria Ann Taylor’s Love is a Hurtin’ Thing
I was lucky enough to be involved with helping Gloria Ann Taylor sign a deal with Ubiquity Records to release a compilation of her records from the 1970s. I kept Pat informed through the entire process. He was always supportive with the occasional, “That’s cool.”
One day I walked into the store and the tunes hit right away – “This is some funky soul music,” I thought. After about 30 seconds it hit me—it was Gloria’s CD! Not only was Pat playing it, but when saw me, he pointed to the cash register, where a customer was in the act of buying a copy. I was (peripherally) involved in a project that made Culture Clash records jump on a Saturday afternoon! You better believe that I left the store with a little extra bounce in my step.
Emily Desmond
Squeeze’s Singles- 45s and Under
I remember Pat O’Connor gifting me Squeeze’s Singles- 45s and Under. The only song by Squeeze that I was familiar with at the time was “Tempted,” but soon jams like “Up the Junction” and “Black Coffee In Bed” completely changed my life. This year, I had the opportunity to see Squeeze perform live at the Beachland Ballroom in Cleveland. I came back from the show and told Pat all about it. He loved living vicariously through my concert experiences. I already miss talking to him about music and shows and life.
Krista Lough
CHVRCHES’ The Bones of What You Believe
I came in looking for something else. Pat had this playing. He snatched it off the turntable saying “You’ll love it”. He was right. While he was ringing it up, he turned to my mom asking her how she liked an album she had purchased six months earlier. She was so impressed that he remembered, as she’s from out of town and only in the shop a couple times of year. Pat had the knack of making people feel like they were important to him.
Ray Barry
King Crimson’s Larks’ Tongues in Aspic
I sort of fell backwards into the [70s prog] band King Crimson. I got hooked on “Red”, which was their 7th record, and from there I jumped around with the rest of their catalog. I was telling Pat which King Crimson records I had and he said, “You know, I always dug Larks’ Tongues in Aspic. You should check that one out.” It was a soft lob of a suggestion, but it was like the one record of theirs I didn’t own, so I gave him $14 and took home a used copy. It turned out to be one of my favorite records. I would think of him whenever I played it, even before he passed, shaking my head like, “Man, how did I sleep on this one for so long?”
Randy Nissen
Gun Outfit’s Dream All Over
“Pat, what is essential that I need?”
“This—it comes with the Pat O’Connor guarantee. If you don’t like it, bring it back for a full refund.”
He never let me down.
