Death of The Record Store

I was reading Uncle Rob’s recent blog post about Casa-Dia Vinyl Records, where he described how much he enjoys collecting vinyl: the smell; the sound; the art; everything, and how meaningful it still is to him. To him, buying a record offers a full experience and he still has a special place in his heart for the first record he ever bought. I’m the same way, except I didn’t grow up with vinyl (though I do have a few). Reading The Uncle’s post - that’s how I like to refer to him: “The Uncle” - brought to mind a conversation I had the other day about the death of the record store.

CD Plus in Regent Mall closed its doors for good on Dec. 24^th, and it will likely soon be that way for a lot more stores, judging by the decline in overall sales. As the music industry becomes more and more digitized, the need for record stores selling physical copies of a musician’s work is lessening; which bothers me. It feels like some of the magic of buying music is being taken away.

And it’s not that I’m against going digital...not really. I love the ease of access an MP3 (or the better quality wav.) has to offer; load it onto your iPod (or Mp3 player) and take your entire musical library wherever you go. It certainly makes attaining an album that much easier; you don’t even have to leave home. But that’s part of what I’m getting at; part of the magic of buying an album, as Uncle Rob mentioned, is actually getting the album.

I bought my first CD in 1997 – I’m 25, and this is a post about physical compared to digital, so spare me the “Vinyl is so much better” rant – it was Our Lady Peace’s Clumsy; I bought it on my own, using my money. The excitement I got from buying and owning my first record (yes, I call CD’s “records”), at the age of 11, was fantastic. It was the beginning of my collection and it sparked the evolution of my musical tastes. No longer did I have to listen to my parents’ music – which wasn’t bad, by any means; I grew up on classic rock – but this was mine.

I grew up in Cumberland bay; a 40-minute drive to the nearest record store. So, I remember picking up my copy of Clumsy and waiting with anticipation to get it home and listen to it (no CD player in my parents’ Astro). The minute I got home, I popped it into my player, took out the liner notes and began flipping through them; absorbing the lyrics as the music played. The artwork included within was a perfect companion to the post-grunge, alternative sound coming from the speakers. It was a full experience. Clumsy was on repeat for weeks in my room – my mom hated it. I still have a special place in my heart for that album; I’m so glad my first one wasn’t something totally embarrassing.

I still get a thrill out of going to the store , picking up a record and taking it home – only now I have a player in the car, so I get to hear it much sooner. The point is: I like having the music in my hands. I enjoy reading the liner notes; looking at the artwork. The whole thing is a piece of art. Call me nostalgic, or even pretentious, but there’s a magic to that experience that today’s digital download just doesn’t offer me. Even when I was in middle School and discovered Napster, I always used it as a preview before I could get the money (this was before I had my first job) to actually buy the disc and add to my collection.

Sure, they’re just discs on a shelf, or they’re just files on a computer; so long as you’re enjoying the music, what difference does it make, right? Well, yeah, I get that. The music is, and will always be, number one with me, but I guess I just have a special appreciation for the whole experience of owning the music: going out to get it; taking it home; struggling to rip open the shrink wrap…I’m gonna miss that.

-Crash-

**Below is one of my favourites from my first album purchase: