Paul ‘Andy Noise’ Anderson was a man of many hats | New

Trying to get a feel for who a person is in their lifetime can be difficult at times. This is especially true for someone like Paul Anderson, who made a pretty big impact for two people.

With that in mind, it’s fitting that Anderson, a married father of three boys, is better known to almost everyone as “Andy Noise”.

Born from the name of his popular and subcultural record store of the 1980s and 1990s, Anderson – Andy Noise – has made an impact on many fronts. On the one hand, as a husband, father and friend. And to countless others as a coach and mentor of the local music scene and long distance running.

Diagnosed with heart disease last year, Anderson died in his sleep on May 4, just two days after celebrating his 58th birthday.

“Everyone has been wonderful,” said Blanca, Anderson’s wife of nearly 31 years. “He made a lot of friends and was able to do what he loved. He was passionate about music. He was passionate about running… coaching people… he got people to do things they never thought they could. “

Born in Kittery, Maine in 1963, Anderson’s father was in the military and the family has moved around the country a lot. Eventually, they moved to Bakersfield around the same time “Andy” was starting junior high.

A graduate of Highland High, Anderson developed a love for music, with a particular penchant for groups of a more rebellious nature. Recognizing that he was not alone and that there was a demand for music and other items not available at traditional music stores, he decided to invest in Andy Noise Records, a store that eventually became a 19th Street staple between K and L streets.

“When it started there were other independent music stores around, plus the chain (stores)… but when you want or don’t want to find that kind of thing that would make your parents frown or turn that music down or that that parental sticker on the cover and that’s why your kid wants to buy it… “said Joe Wirt, a former writer for The Bakersfield Californian.” Anything like that, late British techno from the 80s to early gangster rap to the kind of metal that isn’t Metallica, just an alternative to everything. Plus he had the t-shirts and posters before you got Hot Topic in the mall. That was before it was all co-opted and sold elsewhere. It kind of had the one stop shop for that.

Anderson’s involvement in the local music scene didn’t end with the sale of merchandise. He has become part of the fabric of Bakersfield, selling demos of local bands and even providing them with a stage for concerts in his store.

“Where his niche was, during the week you would find it there,” Wirt said. “He knew where everyone was playing, he knew who was who. He had great opinions on people after they found an opportunity, notoriety, or success. But until then, if you’re going to play, whether you’re good or bad, someone should be saying, “Look at this. Someone should say, “this person is trying”, “this person is trying”. … You have to start somewhere and he was happy to help those starting out in Bakersfield.

In addition to his impact on the music scene, Anderson himself experienced a life-changing event in the fall of 1989, when he met Blanca, who had visited his store in search of a live tape of The Cure after attending the band’s live concert at night. before.

“I thought it was kind of a pure hard punk rock place, but I hadn’t really been there,” Blanca recalls. “The concert was on a Friday, I went there on a Saturday, I was wearing a Cure t-shirt that I bought at the show. I remember the first thing he said to me was, you know you’re like the seventh person to come here with this shirt on, is that the only shirt they had at the show? “

After a brief conversation, Paul told Blanca to come back on Tuesday. She did, paid for her items and left the store.

“And I was leaving and he ran outside to ask for my phone number,” Blanca said. “And the rest is history. I met him at his record store and nine months later we got married. Who would have thought that time?

Over the next 30+ years – the couple were due to celebrate their 31st birthday next month – they had three children, Christopher, Nicholas and Michael.

Meanwhile, Anderson’s other passion, running, began to gain momentum. As the music industry began to change, Anderson began to compete in several long distance races. From 5K and 10K to marathons and ultimately ultra-marathons, Anderson has become a staple of events across California and beyond.

It was a family affair, Blanca supporting him at all times, while her husband competed in a style of her own.

“When he went to his racing events he always had these plaid shirts, short sleeve plaid shirts,” Blanca said. “I asked him why he was wearing these shirts and he said ‘because there were pockets in it’.”

He was also known for his favorite drink.

“He was known to always have a box of Diet Dr Pepper,” Blanca recalls. “I remember at the Bakersfield Marathon, I met him somewhere along the bike path with an ice-cold can of Dr Pepper. I was his portable first aid station.

In a style similar to his musical mentorship, Anderson began coaching and counseling several local runners.

“I met him several years ago when he was a coach and mentor for many recreational runners here in town,” said Olivia Garcia, professor of history at Bakersfield College. how to run a mile or two to someone who was a really good marathoner and was trying to upgrade to ultra-marathons.

The relationship grew into a friendship, which Garcia says has remained strong even through professional and family commitments.

“He touched the lives of so many people not only in Bakersfield but everywhere,” Garcia said. “I ran six marathons, throughout his coaching and advice. But it was more than that. It was just his friendship. He was just someone who could have a profound impact in your life. He inspired people, he made you laugh… he was very frank and honest with you.

Although his heart problems slowed down his running career, Anderson continued to stay active by walking and hiking. At the time of his death, he was preparing to host a virtual event across the state of Tennessee and vice versa. His podcast, “The Andy Noise Experience” and his presence on most social media platforms have helped him stay more connected than ever, even with the COVID-19 pandemic changing the world around him.

Within hours of the news of his death breaking, condolences started pouring into his social media accounts. Last weekend there were 285 messages from supporters. A 5K Memorial Run was held on Saturday morning to remember “Andy Noise” and serve as a fundraiser for his family. More than 80 people participated, many of whom wore plaid shirts in his honor.

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