Text © Robert Barry Francos /
FFanzeen, 2013
Images from the Internet
It is wonderful that independent
record stores are getting more notice, especially with the fall of the majors,
like Tower Records and Virgin Records. All we who love to browse through the
record stores have our touchstone places where we gather(ed) and have the
kinship of our passion. For me, there were a few, such as Sounds (St. Mark’s
Place, NYC), the House of Guitars (Irondequoit, NY, a suburb of Rochester,
especially during the Greg Prevost/Andy Bauilbk years), and Home of the Hits,
aka Play It Again Sam, in Buffalo, NY; RIP). I used to joke that I couldn’t go
to those stores because I couldn’t leave. But, of course, I went. These two
documentaries are hardly the first on record stores and collecting, such as I
Need That Record! [reviewed HERE], but are important nonetheless.
Brick and Mortar and Love
Directed by Scott Shuffitt
Trust Gang Films
70 minutes, 2012
Everything
closes eventually. Max’s Kansas City, CBGB, nearly everything on St. Mark’s
Place, the local video store (remember when they were everywhere?), and
numerous record shops. Why? Some blame the ease of scoring free music online.
Many people under 25 never owned a physical piece of music in their lives. But
there is a connection to a record store that once experienced, can become a
feeling you always want to recreate.
Such
a place is the focus on this documentary, which is followed from 2010 through
2011. Located in Louisville, KY, ear X-stacy was such a gathering place. Run by
John Timmons and a devoted staff, the store went through numerous permutations,
such as having a second, unsuccessful location changing by moving the main
store’s site more than once.
We
follow the store’s progress – or, to be more accurate, its possible death
thrashes – as they struggle to keep the doors open. These events are handled
well, keeping the viewers’ suspense going, almost as if it were alive. This is
almost as much a thriller as a documentary. We follow the bands that play
in-store shows, both local and nationally-touring musicians that play there
(such as My Morning Jacket), the management, the workers, and the buyers.
But
this one store is not the entire scope of the film. They also cover various
other stores in the mid-west that are struggling, talking to the owners who
both praise ear X-stacy and shudder in their own boots. There’s also talking
heads of some musicians, but none of it feels static.
This
film is, on one hand, quite nostalgic about the store, showing it in a loving
light most of the time, but they also show some who are quite calloused about
the stores trouble, owing it up to bad management rather than the market. Considering
that some of the majors have had to close over time, such as Tower, shows that
the fact that some of these stores have managed to scrimp by actually shows
just the opposite of that claim, in my opinion. There are also always going to
be naysayers.
I
also understand. When CBGB shuttered, it felt like a sentimental blow, but I
also know that the CBGB I knew is not the same CBGB that closed. They had
become a brand, a change something that turned us Blank Generation-ers off,
considering branding is something we mostly abhorred (I remember going to shows
in the 2000s and being shocked at the punks there dancing to rap and wearing
Nike crap). The point is, after a store is open 25 years, is it the same store
as when it opened? The impression they
give here, is that ear X-stacy was pretty close to its initial model, which
could be either for the better good, or as one musician claims, the worse.
Shuffitt
manages to keep the story moving and fluid, manages to hold off much of the sentimental
mawkishness that is present in many of these an-institution-is-in-trouble-folks
docs. Some of the people running the place touch the heart, and I would have
liked a follow-up on a few, but that’s just me, Mr. Sentimentality.
Last Shop Standing: The Rise, Fall and Rebirth
of the Independent Record Shop (Deluxe Edition)
Directed by Pip Piper
Convexe Entertainment
124 minutes, 2012 / 2012
Across
the Pond, the UK equivalents of record stores are also having difficulties, to
some extent, keeping up with the digi-world. Part of what is brought up here is
the question of whether there Is a conspiracy against them.
Based
on the book by Graham Jones with the same name, Graham also hosts this
documentary, as we are shown the back end of a number of record shops across
Britain. Apparently what has been hard for the North American indie (and
majors, for that matter) shop(pe) is reflected there. The one owned by Jones
may not actually be the literal last
one, but as the film states, many across the country are closing their doors
for business, and few new ones are replacing them. For this exercise, 27 music
sale palaces are presented, including Rough Trade.
This
tale is broken into three segments, with the first being “Act 1: The Rise.” As
many of these stores have been opened for many generations (one over a century),
and most of the owners shown are at least in their 60s if not 70s, they know
what they are talking about as they discuss the decades.
Apparently,
the record boom was started by Americans stationed over in Jolly Ole’ in the
mid-1950s, as requests for Elvis and the like started to flood in. Rock’n’roll
in 78 form foreshadowed the first big wave of record purchasing. It wasn’t
stated here, but historically, before rock’n’roll, the big seller in these
types of stores was sheet music rather than the sounds themselves.
The
next big wave came with the Beatles (we see some archival footage, ironically
from when the boys landed at JFK in NYC) and what we called the British
Invasion; not sure what they called it there, come to think of it). That was
followed by the punk movement and the flood of independent records. Apparently, the period up to the mid-to-late
1980s was a great time to be selling vinyl.
This
period, however, led to “Act 2: The Fall.” Even though CDs were still sold in
stores, there was, according to the film (and I agree) a complicit conspiracy
by the major labels to get rid of vinyl. The example they use is that the
larger record companies made it harder to get LPs, and also made them thinner
and less trustworthy (true) so they would skip easier, driving people into
buying what they were told was a more reliable CD product (lies; early CDs
tended to skip quite regularly at the beginning). In addition, and this is from
me rather than this film, you had a choice between a record or a CD that
generally had three or four more songs. Guess which one sold more?
CDs,
being a digital medium, of course led way to digi-music, where the listener to
buy it directly from the company or musician, bypassing the store altogether
(though not any cheaper). On a side
note, again not stated in the film, is that before the early ‘60s, singles
(i.e., 45s) were the biggest sellers. With the advent of the Beatles, albums
became the most popular. With digit-music, the song rather than the collection
became the top seller again.
Many
stores had to develop a different model during the technological seismographic shifting
phase. There were a large number that didn’t make it, but there were some who
managed to hold on. As Marshall McLuhan
states correctly, when a technology becomes obsolete, it comes back as art. This
has been true of vinyl, leading to “Act 3: The Rebirth.” Stores also started to change their dynamics
to include a wider variety of styles, adding extras like musical instruments
and gear, and even having bands play at in-store shows.
The
documentary has a wary tone about the future, and rightfully so. Who knows what
will come around in the coming years. Who knew that Napster was the beginning
of the happy days of music selling, as one store owner states here.
There
are a lot of amazing good and intelligent musicians interviewed for this, such
as Billy Bragg, Paul Weller, and Jo Good, to name a few. By giving a
cross-section of stores over a wide area, we are given an overview of the
condition the record store condition is in, as it were. On the other hand, as
there is no central store at the heart of the story, it’s hard to garner much
emotional attachment for any of them. Sure, as collectors, we (I am assuming
and speaking for everyone, I know) care about our stores, the personalities of
the people who run them (such as the Yankees-hating owner of Revolutionary
Records on St. Mark’s Place; I would love to see a steel cage match with Yankees-loving
Handsome Dick Manitoba… but I digress…)
Lots of cool extras on board, such as the
trailer, a bit that plays catch-up with some of the stores after the film’s release,
and lots of extended interviews that go on for quite a while. In fact, the
added interviews (including with Weller) together last longer than the film
itself, which is a good deal!
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