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ivan@stellysee.de
| From | jchasin@nyc.rr.com |
| Subject | Record Stores |
| Date | Tue, 22 Aug 2006 10:38:13 -0400 |
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I think of record stores the way I think of the radio or 45 RPM
records-- through a haze of nostalgia, as something I used to
associate with music consumption in an earlier time. I haven't really
listened to the radio (outside of looking for weather and traffic
news) since circa 1990. And at this point I have no use for record
stores. I used to love browsing in a good one as much as the next
fella; every time I was in San Franicisco i'd make a point o hitting
the Tower there on Bay Street. But the Internet has rendered record
retail wholly redundant in my opinion. It is easy to see how online
merchants have changed the game-- if I want the new (and import only)
Silos record, or the Michael Carpenter SOOP 2, It would be silly to go
trawling the bins at Virgin when I can place an order at Not Lame from
the comfort of my home (and know they'll have the titles in stock.)
But too, the availability of news about music that the Internet has
wrought has totally changed my purcha
se dynamic. I discover more new records on this list in a month, for
example, than I would browsing physical stores in a year. Once,
record stores were a place where I discovered things; but now, the
free and abundant flow of information onnline has totally negated the
value of the record store as a place of discovery. By the time I
stumble over a release at a retailer, I've already read about it here,
or received an email from Notlame, or had it recommended by Amazon.
The magic of discovery that was so much a part of record shopping is
totally gone for me.
In the first half of the 90s, I was on a Willie Dixon binge; I bought
every record I could find that he was on (his own, Chuck Berry, Muddy
Waters, Bo Doddley, Little Walter, Howlin' Wolf, and on and on...) I
remember findin obscure releases in stores-- a recording of session
work, at the aforementioned Tower in San Fran; a vinyl copy of Willie
in the studio with some of his obscure old cronies, at Second Coming
in the Village. But now, having exhausted Google, Amazon, eBay etc.
in looking for his discography, I am confident that there are no
surprises lurking out there for me in the bins.
So while I still wander into, say, the Tower on West 4th Street, or
the Borders at 57th and Park, more often than not I leave with a
couple of magazines and no new music. But hey, if I read about
anything good in my new copy of Paste or Magnet or Harp, I can always
go online and order it.
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