Who needs an old Brookfield Zoo T-shirt (L) depicting a white wolf? How about a used prescription bottle for doxycycline? A deck of Iraqi war-criminal playing cards (unsealed)? A playbook from a 1970s porn movie titled “Dracula Sucks”? A 70-year-old Library of Congress vinyl recording of sea sha nties? For the next several months, through spring, Byron Coley will be attempting to sell every this, that and the other thing once owned by Steve Albini, the legendary Chicago record producer and musician whose name was synonymous with indie acts like Nirvana, PJ Harvey, the Pixies. His books, record collection, copies of underground magazines long past, music awards, a Marc Maron coffee mug, street fliers for Chicago punk shows from the 1980s. After Albini died unexpectedly last year at 61, Coley, a longtime music writer, liner-notes author, former editor at Spin and Forced Exposure and occasional estate administrator, set up a digital estate sale, with most of the proceeds going to Albini’s widow, filmmaker Heather Whinna. He came to Chicago, rented a U-Haul and loaded up 4,000 items with the help of Albini’s friends, including Tim Midyett of the band Silkworm. Then he drove back home to Massachusetts. Now, Fridays at noon, he opens bidding on Albini’s stuff. There’s really no nicer way to describe this mountain of stuff other than “stuff”’; it’s how Coley’s own website, SteveAlbinisCloset.com, refers to Albini’s random bits and bobs. Anyway, some months since the sale started, how’s it going? “It’s a grind,” Coley said, “but it’s going well, we get 20 or 30 orders as soon as we begin every Friday, we get the people who spend a couple of thousand bucks right away, we get the people looking for test pressings of records Steve owned, the people who collect old T-shirts, and you get the people who want a beat up old paperback copy of (Robert Heinlein’s) ‘Stranger in a Strange Land’ just because it was Steve’s. That’s what you call an ‘association item,’ an item not necessarily worth much by itself, but put it on a shelf and you have a story to tell — it’s worth more to you.” In short, an act of generosity for the estate of an old friend has become a 40- to 50-hour second job. Not that Coley is complaining — that’s just the reality of estate sales, he said. You need to grade each item, you need to pack each item, you need to ship each item, be it a Fender guitar or a pair of Albini’s socks. Coley takes a small percentage of the profits — he figures he makes roughly $20 an hour on it — and though sales slowed since he began in May, Steve Albini’s Closet has pulled in around $100,000 so far. It’s also devoured Coley’s living room, which is stacked so high with artifacts, it’s a museum of late-century underground culture, a peek at vintage Chicago hipsterdom. Testing pressings of records by Big Black, Albini’s first band. A 1984 concert poster from the Cubby Bear. A copy of Time Out Chicago (with Albini on the cover, beside Roger Ebert and Chris Ware). A print from Evanston artist Jay Ryan. A DVD of “High Fidelity.” A Cheap Trick bootleg. A 2009 “Honorary Employee” plaque from Reckless Records. Records that Albini owned (Wire, Elvis Costello) as an undergraduate at Northwestern. Posters created by Steve Albini for a Metro show by the Louisville band Squirrel Bait, and a concert he played in Boston with his band Big Black and the Meat Puppets (left and right); and an Albini sketch of indie artist Will Oldham, better known as Bonnie "Prince" Billy. (Provided by Byron Coley) To poke around his virtual closet is to realize there is a celebrity estate sale for every aesthetic. David Lynch’s estate had one. Stephen Sondheim’s estate sold his old puzzles. Philip Roth’s sold his typewriters and baseball cards. The estates of Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher, mother and daughter, who died 24 hours apart, had a joint sale. Fitting her QVC history, Joan Rivers’s estate sold her jewelry online. Coley has done this before, mainly for musicians. But technically, when the owner of the stuff is not dead, it’s a tag sale, which is what he organized for Sonic Youth’s Thurston Moore and Kim Gordon after their 2013 divorce; he sold off their gigantic art and record collections. You might also just call them elaborate yard sales. Albini and Coley had talked for years about selling Albini’s stuff one day, while he was alive; they discussed it the day the producer died. They were friends. Coley, who is 69, already had a career in records and music journalism when Albini, as an undergraduate, would write to him about Coley’s record reviews. “Actually, Steve would write reviews of my reviews,” Coley said. “Like ‘That Meat Puppets review was great but that Husker Du review, that was pretty lousy.’ I’d think, who is this guy and how did he get my address?” Among the items you will not find in Steve Albini’s Closet are the two wedding presents that Albini gave Coley. “Steve told me ‘I’m going to make you one thing, but then I’m also going to buy you something expensive and stupid.’ He was actually late to the wedding because the airline wouldn’t let him on the plane with what he had.” Albini built a huge grinding wheel that gave off showers of sparks. As for the stupid expensive gift: he gave the couple an original letter written by sci-fi writer Philip K. Dick. A poster for a concert in Logan Square hosted by Steve Albini's band Shellac, a test pressing of the vinyl edition of the Chicago band Big Black's "Rema-Rema" single, and a coffee mug received from comedian Marc Maron after Albini appeared on Maron's podcast are among the items on Steve Albini's Closet. (Provided by Byron Coley) Albini was never really a collector of memorabilia, Coley said, “but he also wasn’t Marie Kato.” He suspects Albini held onto piles of old zines and records and VHS tapes for more practical reasons, because he often hosted out-of-town bands, who crashed at Electrical Audio, his Avondale recording studio. “I think Steve saved some of this for the guests to read and watch. A lot of bands he invited, they didn’t have money for a hotel, they didn’t have money to do a lot in Chicago. He never charged much for his services.” That’s also why — despite many requests from visitors to Steve Albini’s Closet — Coley doesn’t have old record contracts to sell: Albini refused to ask clients to sign contracts. Indeed, years later, some of the shoppers on Steve Albini’s Closet are the sons and daughters of the late members of bands that Albini recorded, hoping for an artifact of a bygone session. Some — like Fred Armisen, who’s bought a few records — were friends. But most are fans, collectors, admirers. Coley posts between 100 and 200 new objects each week. Still to come: an original painting by Iggy Pop; gold records by Nirvana and the Pixies: a Grammy owned by PJ Harvey; World Series of Poker bracelets ( Albini took home the poker equivalent of a Grammy twice); many books on the history of Chicago baseball; and several posters Albini created for his own bands, likely while working by day at a Chicago ad agency. At first, Coley thought selling all of Albini’s stuff would take maybe six months. Now he hopes to be finished by May 2026. “It’s like having a kid. You say it won’t take all of your time, and you’ll still be able to live your life. But then, in for a penny, in for a pound.” [email protected] ...read more read less