A few years ago I wrote a blog post about vinyl: about how
it will last for ever, and about how young people didn’t get it. Well, I was
right on one count.
More recently I was in a charity shop crate-digging the
singles and LPs when two Young People came over and started doing the same. I
nearly said to them: “Sod off. This is OUR thing.”
Graham Jones calls this “the vinyl revival” and he’s written
a book about it. He’s already a chronicler of record shops, and his day job as
sales rep for a record distributor means he has first-hand knowledge of shops
from Cornwall to Orkney.
His first book, Last Shop Standing, was a lament for a dying
breed: record shops were closing at a rate of ten a month. The new one, The
Vinyl Revival and the Shops that Made it Happen, is a celebration because they
have come back: since 2009, more than 100 record shops have opened.
The first part of the book looks at how this happened: he
argues that it is largely down to Record Store Day. It’s an in-depth look at the
economic factors affecting record retailers (and much of the blame is on record
companies themselves), the history of Record Store Day and the rise of vinyl. It’s fascinating because he really knows his
stuff. There are also tips if you’re thinking of opening a record shop
yourself.
The second part is a directory of UK record shops that sell
vinyl. Here’s where you find a hotel with its own record shop; record shops
that are also cafes (there are a lot of these); record shops that sell other
stuff, too: vintage tracksuits or designer furniture or books about Darwin.
This is the fun bit: you get the stories behind the shops
and the people who run them. There are people who always wanted to work in a
record shop, people who have escaped normal careers, several musicians, and a
lot of people who started off by selling their own record collections
(something I can’t quite get my head round).
You hear about why they believe in vinyl (“we sell music,
not data”) and what they think about the vinyl revival (“Vinyl had always been
alive for collectors and DJs and it was only the popular music industry that
had abandoned it.”).
There are plenty of anecdotes (including not one but two JR
Hartley- type stories) and a sprinkling of “stupid things customers say”. My
favourite is the one about young people saying their records sound funny and
being told that record players have two speeds.
But there’s a theme that runs through this that is about
more than funny stories. It’s about the importance of independent shops and why
we ought to support them, it’s about people who care about what they sell, it’s
about being part of a community. And there are some good points about the
woeful lack of support for independent shops from record labels.
When I was young, I thought I wanted to work in the music
business. Later I found out that the music business is populated by wankers.
But at grassroots level – the record shops and indie labels, the promoters and
DJs (and many of the people in this book do all four) – you will find the
people who actually love music and want to share their enthusiasm: “the sort of
people the music industry should be honouring”.
It’s not about branding and demographics and territories,
it’s about putting on gigs and festivals, stocking and showcasing local talent,
running their own labels, or just creating a meeting place for the local music
community.
Graham doesn’t have much time for the High Fidelity type of shop
that are funnier in retrospect than in reality. Record shops, he observes, are
friendlier now. The intimidating staff that “made you feel it was a private
male-dominated club” are a thing of the past, and one result is that more women
are buying vinyl now. And women are opening their own shops, too, I’m glad to
see.
Graham is currently doing a book promotion tour – in record
shops, of course. Details are on Facebook.
Disclosure: I was sent a review copy of this book, and I
know Graham (although I haven’t seen him for years).
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