�There’s nothing as glamorous as a record store.” � Paul McCartney
In this era of digital downloads, the small, indie record shop might sound like an anachronism. But, in fact, record stores served as community centers, information exchanges, clubs, art galleries, and launching pads for numerous bands and record labels. Record Store Days takes a long, loving look back at the retail refuges that enthralled at least three generations of music lovers, providing a glimpse into the special alchemy that makes a great record store. Written and compiled by two record store veterans, this lively and nostalgic anthology includes photographs and reminiscences from musicians, music industry executives, former record store clerks, and, of course, avid fans.
Oh, this just has to be a fun read. Gary was my boss at Licorice Pizza, an old California record store chain. He's the best kind of music geek. Can't wait to get my hands on this one.
Gary Calamarin ja Phil Gallon "Record Store Days" (Sterling, 2009) on jonkinmoinen rakkaudentunnustus levykaupoille. Ei tätä kannata ryhtyä lukemaan kaikenkattavana historiikkina levykauppojen historiaan, vaan enemmän sellaisena fiilistelykirjana, jossa kerrotaan tarinoita tiskin molemmin puolin, fiilistellään vinyylejä ja käydään läpi bisneksen vaiheita läpi vuosikymmenten. Viihdyttävä kirja, etenkin kun mukavia valokuvia on paljon.
What a fun read. Along with the large stores there are many small stores talked about also (like Stinkweeds In Phoenix). A fun trip into the ups and downs in the history of the record store. An enjoyable read.
Record Store Days: From Vinyl to Digital and Back Again by Gary Calamar (Sterling Publishing 2009)(780.266) was a let-down. My expectations were too high; the book is simply a paean to (mostly) large chain-record stores. It did remind me, however, of how much fun it used to be to browse and listen to what was inevitably great new music playing on the store's stereo. My rating: 6/10, finished 5/9/11.
A kind of oral history of record shops, comprising facts, history, anecdotes and lore as told by shop owners, managers, musicians and fans. Moderately entertaining but a little iffy, like a singer's mid-career album you enjoy well enough to put on your shelf but aren't sure you'll ever play again.
It took two people to write (and apparently no one to copy edit) this slick-looking, superficial piece of garbage meant to celebrate the onetime ubiquity and continued communal importance of the Record Store. Not music, not the stuff you buy in stores, but the actual experience of the Record Store itself as some sort of church. Look, I like record stores too, I like browsing around in them and finding good and strange things and even have a pretty decent and long-running relationship with the proprietor of the one in my own area. But I like record stores because they contain records, and when we start mythologizing the act of milling around in a store, I get a little queasy… and that’s all this book is. It’s not well written, there’s no insight or any kind of probing about real and deep changes to popular music as a culture or the record stores as a survey of all that. It’s all just so empty and has the same received-wisdom quality as a pamphlet from the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame’s Cleveland Museum — that same total absence of individual expression in service of an ideal that’s hallowed in a way geared specifically to the grizzled, nostalgic white male contingent. It’s like writing a book about the Fillmore and barely mentioning the bands that played there, only wait, it’s not really like that; it’s like writing a book about “concert venues.” I’m not even against someone waxing poetic about browsing used items in a store, which can be transcendent in a weird way, but these authors aren’t capable of delivering that kind of experience with any idiosyncrasy or depth, they’re too busy rattling off numbers and gleefully providing lists of what bands have done in-stores where, reprinting the insipid Yo La Tengo Onion article for the 400th time, and announcing no less than seven times (I counted) that Peter Buck met Michael Stipe in a record store, and without that where would we be? (I love R.E.M. and will until I croak, but even in 2011 when this book was published, were they really the right band to select as a world-altering quantity?) One good thing: there are lots of cool photos of vintage record shops in action. I’d have gone for a coffee table book of just that stuff.
Let me tell you a quick story, than I’ll wrap up this rant. One Saturday a long time ago I got a taste of what it’s like to be an actual DJ for a living; I was a DJ for six months and change but I was doing it as a hobby in off-time and on this day I was hanging out with someone who did it for his livelihood, and as part of said livelihood we spent about five hours in a hellhole of a thrift shop that was fashioned within a warehouse that hadn’t seen sunlight in a generation. We rifled through box after smoky box, painstakingly setting aside any interesting items that might be worthwhile for either of us, then we trotted over to the house record player and tested every one of the records that had been set aside, which in his case was almost a hundred. At the end of the day, I had a migraine, my knees hurt, I was ready to pass out, and I was still only 26 at that point! As Sergio said on the phone later, when we got home and saw what we’d purchased, we were happy, but it took a lot of unpleasant work to get there. And that’s really an extreme example of how it all is for me, and how it was when I used to go trolling yard sales with my parents; there are exceptions — Gravity Records being one — where the shopping itself is fun and pleasant, but for the most part, we go seek this stuff out for the end result (more art that we love, more records we can play) more than for the in-the-moment experience, which I guess sounds cynical, but I just don’t see shopping as the essence of any quality human experience, and if it ever is (like when you’re traveling and experiencing new places and getting to know people) it’s purely incidental. There are many good reasons we should want record stores, the independently operated brick & mortar kind, to survive. This smug, self-congratulatory book puts across none of them.
Little hubs of exploding talent, social scenes, petri dishes of new music, record stores were cornerstones of 20th and early 21st Century culture, but they apparently are no competition for the thrill of downloading an MP3 and arguing about it later with some anonymous troll.
No question that record stores were once the coolest places on Planet Earth but that was in another land that shall not come again. In the decade and change since this book was published the number of stores has continued to decline, by some estimates at 3-5% per year, in spite of the vinyl renaissance. Kids in smaller cities will likely never know the pleasures of being sneered at by clerks and, if they survive the initiation, learning from those very clerks, maybe even working behind a record store counter themselves someday.
This is a concise history of record stores and the marketing of recorded music in America, colorfully illustrated, at its best when it sticks to historical facts. There are too many gushing memories of seeing stars in record stores and the loving, wistful glimpses of youthful record store magic are sweet and sad, but very repetitious. The central story though is fascinating: the evolution of a medium, shaped by its marketing.
Interesting overview of the rise and fall of "record" stores with many, many terrific anecdotes.
That said, although the book is chronological, it desperately needed a good editorial polish to tie disparate thoughts together and avoid odd and sometimes confusing transitions and tangents.
Would definitely benefit from that polish, as well as an update to bring us from 2009 to today.
My reviews are only on StoryGraph, as I do not want to help Amazon get any larger. The only reason I keep this app is because it has my list and tally of past books read.
A: Take a stroll from LA’s Hollywood and Vine (former home of 60’s pioneer record retailer Wallach’s Music City) to Sunset and Cahuenga (the location of powerhouse indy record retailer Amoeba Music.)
This is exactly what authors Gary Calamar and Phil Gallo have done with their new book, ‘Record Store Days.’
Published in honor of (and cooperation with) the recently created ‘Record Store Day’ – a day designated to bring attention and luster to the remaining stores that specialize in the lost art of recorded music retailing – the duo’s volume is a celebration of everything that used to be great about buying music – in its physical form – at retail outlets around the country.
Many fret that gone are the days of holding vinyl (or cassettes or even CDs) in one’s hands while exploring every photo, detail and liner note that made up the music releases of yore. And while these two address the overhyped resurgence of the vinyl album (from 1% to 2% of the market), their real mission is to capture the essence of just what the record shopping experience was like from the 50’s to the late 90’s. From stores like Wallach’s and the early Sam Goody’s, to 70’s chains like Tower and Licorice Pizza (where this writer spent several years behind the counter) to regional beacons like Chicago’s Wax Trax, Austin’s Waterloo Records and New England’s Newbury Comics, Calamar and Gallo cover absolutely every aspect of the experience.
From in-stores to bootlegs, picture discs to promo merch, ‘Record Store Days’ captures the same exact gena-se-qua that one uniquely felt inside the hallowed walls of these musical emporiums. The book features the many players and locations where acts were discovered either thru fan interaction or in-store play; where a community came together to worship and explore a particular format or niche regardless of mainstream media airplay. Though may failed to realize it at the time, these stores served as the circulatory system of the musical body electric. Testimonials from people like R.E.M.’s Peter Buck, Elvis Costello, Tom Waits and many others only lend to the credibility of the subject at hand.
Of course, most of this culture has been decimate by the arrival of digital music and big-box retail (hard to imagine a scene from High Fidelity being played out at the iTunes store.) But for capturing a moment in time – a history that really mattered – it’s a pleasure to revisit it through a book that throughly got it right.
The fact that we wax nostalgic over these record store days is sad enough. That this book even exists, is probably a miracle. If you still have fond memories of your own ‘record store days,’ get it.
A: Take a stroll from LA’s Hollywood and Vine (former home of 60’s pioneer record retailer Wallach’s Music City) to Sunset and Cahuenga (the location of powerhouse indy record retailer Amoeba Music.)
This is exactly what authors Gary Calamar and Phil Gallo have done with their new book, ‘Record Store Days.’
Published in honor of (and cooperation with) the recently created ‘Record Store Day’ – a day designated to bring attention and luster to the remaining stores that specialize in the lost art of recorded music retailing – the duo’s volume is a celebration of everything that used to be great about buying music – in its physical form – at retail outlets around the country.
Many fret that gone are the days of holding vinyl (or cassettes or even CDs) in one’s hands while exploring every photo, detail and liner note that made up the music releases of yore. And while these two address the overhyped resurgence of the vinyl album (from 1% to 2% of the market), their real mission is to capture the essence of just what the record shopping experience was like from the 50’s to the late 90’s. From stores like Wallach’s and the early Sam Goody’s, to 70’s chains like Tower and Licorice Pizza (where this writer spent several years behind the counter) to regional beacons like Chicago’s Wax Trax, Austin’s Waterloo Records and New England’s Newbury Comics, Calamar and Gallo cover absolutely every aspect of the experience.
From in-stores to bootlegs, picture discs to promo merch, ‘Record Store Days’ captures the same exact gena-se-qua that one uniquely felt inside the hallowed walls of these musical emporiums. The book features the many players and locations where acts were discovered either thru fan interaction or in-store play; where a community came together to worship and explore a particular format or niche regardless of mainstream media airplay. Though may failed to realize it at the time, these stores served as the circulatory system of the musical body electric. Testimonials from people like R.E.M.’s Peter Buck, Elvis Costello, Tom Waits and many others only lend to the credibility of the subject at hand.
Of course, most of this culture has been decimate by the arrival of digital music and big-box retail (hard to imagine a scene from High Fidelity being played out at the iTunes store.) But for capturing a moment in time – a history that really mattered – it’s a pleasure to revisit it through a book that throughly got it right.
The fact that we wax nostalgic over these record store days is sad enough. That this book even exists, is probably a miracle. If you still have fond memories of your own ‘record store days,’ get it.
This book would only be interesting if you are is into vinyl and record stores as I am. Otherwise, I would skip it. The book covers the various American record stores both in business and defunct throughout the years and contains a lot of comments and recollections from musicians, store owners, and collectors. In-store concert performances by various acts througout the years in order to boost sales or draw attention to record stores in general are covered and we aren't talking just small indy groups here when you hear about Paul McCartney, Elvis Costello, and even Nirvana all playing at record stores throughout the years. A different kind of book to be sure, but one I won't forget about anytime soon. It made me want to look up the Amoeba Records web site online.
This is a beautiful book that shows off the history and romance of record stores. I especially enjoyed the photos of shops from the fifties, forties and earlier in the twentieth century.
Unfortunately, the story of the independent record store is almost identical to that of the independent bookstore. The stores may have been charming and quirky, but they have been almost completely disintermediated by the changes in our culture and technology. The authors try to put on a brave face and tout some kind of revival in the music retail community, but it's hard not to notice that everybody in the recent photos is old.
Of all the coffee table books about record collecting in the last few years, this one stands out for its focus on the industry at large and how its changed. This was key information for me as someone into music and collecting, because it sheds light on why things are the way they are and how we can expect they might be a few years down the line. It's also a good size (thick, but not the size of a record on its face) and full of great looking sidebars and photos.
If you only get one - of the MANY - books for the record collector in your life, get this one.
This book was a lot of fun for me. In the sixties I spent a lot of time in record stores and unlike other girls my age I spent my allowance on records. It's full of pictures and the history of the almost extinct record store. I still listen to records and enjoy the artwork. Imagine going to a record store and seeing a band promoting their new album. It still happens in big cities. These stores were also a place you could chat about music while listening. The walls were covered with posters and albums. The digital age has taken over.
An entertaining read about the rise and fall and recent (hopeful) rise again of independent record stores. The book is sprinkled with many confessionals from famous musicians, industry people, and store owners/proprieters, this is a great book for any music aficionado. It also includes a history of the various music formats through the years, along with highlighting various individual stores. Plenty of pictures too.
This book, which I received for Christmas, made me so nostalgic for the days when I took my meagre paycheck to buy a new LP or two twice a month. It made me proud to be old enough to remember real record stores, filled with dozens of bins of records, with records and posters lining the walls, and falling in love with something on first listen and buying it. I find it fascinating that vinyl is making a comeback, not to mention glad that I still have all of mine.
As a narrative history of the American record store, this is far from the last word, but this is a thoroughly enjoyable coffee-table history of the birth, life, decline, and rebirth of the U.S. record store. Lots of great illustrations and affectionate memories and anecdotes from celebrities and record store staff members. If you love record stores, you need to check this out.
Fun "coffee-table" book about records, record collecting, and the record stores that made buying records so much fun. . . That is before streaming and downloading killed the entire industry. If you're into records as a form of collecting music then you'll love this book. Lavishly illustrated. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to my favorite antiques store to peruse the record section.
An interesting historical snapshot of one retail spectrum. Too much repetition, though. After three mentions that Peter Buck and Michael Stipe of R.E.M. met in a record store, I was moderately irritated. After the sixth mention, I was about ready to put the book down. But I stayed with it.
good read, but slightly repetitious and wordy... with it would've explored the mechanics of the record store business in more detail, such as various practices and case studies during various periods of music and retail business in the US... also, what about non-US stores?