The Kids Aren't Alright...apparently

I've just returned from a week in Northumberland. Very nice, thanks for asking. While in the area, I took the opportunity to drop in on the independent record shops of Newcastle. Before I go into any kind of detail, I should point out that I tried to go to Steel Wheels, but I'm fucked if I know where it is. Apparently it's now called Beatdown Records and I found their old store and...  oh, forget it. I'm still bitter, ok?

Anyway, I very much enjoyed my time in both RPM and Reflex. RPM smells like a proper record shop. I'd feel obliged to explain that statement were it not for the fact that I'm making it on this blog. And if you're reading this blog then I'm fairly certain that you know what I'm on about. In addition to this, they were playing 'The Good, The Bad & The Queen', which I'm not sure I've ever heard being played in record shop previously. It was a promising start. As it happens, I didn't actually spend any money in there. Not that their stock isn't splendid. There's racks of vinyl at reasonable prices, a reasonably clear filing system for the CDs and a few sale racks. I have nothing but praise for RPM, it's exactly how I would describe the model independent record shop. Ticks every box.

I also visited Reflex, where I confess a number of my quids were liberated by the fine tune-age of Terry Callier and Micah P Hinson. It's a bit more sanitised than RPM - which is to say everything is very neatly arranged and not an inch of display space is wasted. It's clearly a very efficiently run business and you have to applaud any shop that employs a Lurch looky-likey to stand at the end of the road with a large sign directing custom shopwards. I was served by a slightly hyperactive woman who offered up the kind of banter you just don't get in your enormo-stores. Just as I was about to pay, I noticed 'Old Rare New', a delightful tome about independent record stores, up on a shelf and thus double the cost of my shop. Still, another great indie store. The people of Newcastle are spoilt.

In amongst the many tales told in 'Old Rare New' is a page by Sister Ray owner, Phil Barton. I enjoyed his words and offered a token world-weary sigh as I read his comment that,  "kids don't collect records anymore, they steal tunes instead." He may well have a point, I thought. Then, I got back yesterday and found my weekly email update from Sister Ray, in which the news was imparted that the shop is in administration while a new buyer is sought. I'll be honest, my first thought was, "Shit! Don't they own Selectadisc in Nottingham too?" I've since had most of my fears about a knock-on effect allayed, but I'm still rather dismayed by the news about this Berwick Street great. It's a cracking shop, full of the sort of records any self-respecting collection requires and not unreasonable prices. A few years back it moved across the road into the old Selectadisc store when that particular business opted to concentrate on one city only. I've not been since the move, but I remember, in its slightly pokier previous location, being thoroughly chuffed with its stock. It was in Sister Ray that I finally managed to buy a - not 100% official - copy of 'Fanfare For The Comic Muse' by The Divine Comedy, back in 2001. I'd spent years looking for it and was happily dispatched with a copy, some sixteen pounds lighter. I'm sure I've moaned about the state of Berwick Street in the past, but only a few years ago it was the ideal day out. A street full of record shops, each offering different things for the rabid collector, but it's now flagging seriously. I hope that Sister Ray finds someone willing to stump up the cash, but its potential demise is yet another sign that the physical product isn't winning over the latest generation of music fans.

I'm still a little concerned about Selectadisc. I wrote about the reduction in floor space a few months back, and while the shop isn't part of the same company as Sister Ray, I know there are some financial links. I can only hope that its legacy and seemingly continued popularity with the good folk of the East Midlands will ensure its survival for some time to come. If that fails, does anyone know what house prices are like in Newcastle?

Mixtape...blah, blah, nostalgia, blah...

I was about to start with a profound and incisive statement, but that new Bloc Party single really is fucking dreadful, isn't it?

I've spent a thoroughly enjoyable day rearranging bits of the record collection and ripping assorted tracks to the computer in order to refresh the content of my mp3 player and contruct a decent mp3 CD for a long car journey that's coming up. It's wonderful just browsing through the tunes that have, at various times in the last few years, meant rather a lot to me. I did the slightly embarrassing, but hugely popular, swivelling-a-little-bit-in-a-computer-chair dance to Stardust's 'Music Sounds Better With You' earlier and it was hugely satisfying. And what about 'Forever J' by Terry Hall? A beautiful, beautiful song which was sampled on 'Life In Mono' by Mono, which I've also ended up digging out. However, whilst finding out more about it I stumbled upon the Emma Bunton cover version. Eugh. Now, I actually really liked that soul-pastiche album she did a few years back. The one with pink cover. But this is not good. At all. The original is, however, and it would seem you can still buy it via the iTunes empire.

The mp3 player will soon be receiving a number of albums that I can't believe I haven't felt the need to put back on there since reformatting it a few months back. Most of Supergrass' back catalogue is still absent, as are the first two Portishead albums and Thom Yorke's 'The Eraser'. Not for much longer. Also going on will be Madness' wonderful track, 'NW5' that came out as a one-off single a little while back, but which will feature on their forthcoming concept album, 'The Liberty Of Norton Folgate'. If you've not heard it, I would put it up there with pretty much anything else they've ever done. It's great.

And with that cunning link (that's great and so is this) I should probably say a few words about the Jamie Lidell record I was on about the other day. Gilles Peterson has started offering a splendid service via TellJack that allows you to hear albums, in full, before deciding whether or not to purchase. You don't download anything, it's all done via high quality streams, but it's splendid. That's how I got to hear 'Jim', by Jamie Lidell. I keep calling it 'Son of Stevie' because it sounds like that sort of record Stevie Wonder would be making now if he was a) younger and b) as good as he used to be. To me, this album slots in quite neatly alongside 'Innervisions' and 'Talking Book'. High praise, I know, but it really is the best soul album I've heard in yonks. And, I've heard Sharon Jones and the new Al Green. Anyway, there's a track on the newly updated Mux (click on the tape in the right-hand column) along with a chance to hear the Terry Hall track 'Forever J' and the Mono track that sampled it. Plus other stuff. Stuff you'll like, I'd imagine.

I remember now what it was that I was going to talk about when I was going on about mp3 compilations. I was listening to Jeremy Vine's show on Radio 2 yesterday (the outraged voice of middle class Britain©) as he discussed the possible charges for broadband customers in the UK. Apparently, devious downloaders will be receiving angry letters in the near future, explaining that what they're up to is illegal. Assuming, of course, that they are downloading illegally, that is. They wouldn't make any mistakes, would they? Judging by some of the calls to the programme, mistakes have already been made and there will be more on the way. Predictably, one of the 'I ain't paying for it, why should I? I've ten CDs over the last twenty years and they were, like, £16 each, so why should I pay now?' brigade got on air. I've never really had a strong opinion about it one way or another, but with the number of independent record stores dying on their arses and bands failing to keep hold of their record contracts, you do have to wonder. Ok, so it's a symptom of a jaded industry, rather than the cause, but surely nobody who loves their tunes thinks it's a long-term approach? Weirdly, I've just noticed that the good folks at Norman Records are having a similar debate on their blog.

And finally, the nominations for the Mercury Music Prize came out t'other day and I was amazed by just how many I've actually heard and liked. The list is as follows:

Adele - '19'
British Sea Power - 'Do You Like Rock Music?'
Burial - 'Untrue'
Elbow - 'The Seldom Seen Kid'
Estelle - 'Shine'
Laura Marling - 'Alas I Cannot Swim'
Neon Neon - 'Stainless Style'
Portico Quartet - 'Knee-Deep In The North Sea'
Rachel Unthank & The Winterset - 'The Bairns'
Radiohead - 'In Rainbows'
Robert Plant & Alison Krauss - 'Raising Sand'
The Last Shadow Puppets - 'The Age Of The Understatement'

It's only Portico Quartet that I need to do any real research for - and I will, I'm sure. I can't think of a time when I've been so in line with the Mercury choices. It could just be that I've bought far too many records recently, and therefore whatever they'd gone for I'd have been in this position, but I'd like to think not. From my perspective, it's got to be between Elbow, Laura Marling and Radiohead. Radiohead are getting a bit of negativity thrown their way regarding this because of how established they are, but 'In Rainbows' really is one of their best albums and definitely one of the best albums of the last twelve months. Laura Marling is someone that I've raved about on here for almost a year now and I certainly don't intend on stopping. 'Alas I Cannot Swim' will be in my end of the year list and it's a near-perfect folk-pop album. It's an exercise in measured understatement, and it's all the more beautiful because of that. However, I think it should probably go to Elbow. They went off, not in possession of a record deal, and did it all themselves; recording a record that they would want to listen to. It's a wonderful, wonderful collection of songs and 'One Day Like This' could well end up as one of my all time favourite songs.

Any thoughts? Perhaps the blog will get spammed again by the vinyl collectors of Idaho. (See comments for previous post) I'm with Neil Hannon on Idaho.

Like I said, have a listen to the Muxtape.

I'm still working on factual AND funny...

Thanks to those who've been in touch about indie stores of note. Will be doing some researching over the next few days and will start to add names soon. One that pops up quite a lot, and one which I have experience of and there I'm able to write about with relative ease, is Selectadisc in Nottingham.

In the last couple of weeks, things have changed in store and everything's been bunched up a bit. I've just tried describing this in words, but it didn't work especially well, so here's a visual aid.

Right then, the bit you can see some of on the left used to be the 'specialist' CD section but they've now put that up for rent and squidged the whole stock into the main bit you can see and the upstairs of said main shop. Confused? Good. Anyway, it's now even more bonkers and cluttered than it was before, but I think I might actually like it better like this. For a start, it feels much more like your traditional indie store, with things shoved everywhere and quality stock piled high. Secondly, if this ensures the store a long and prosperous future then that can't be a bad thing. 

Why's it worthy of your time and money? Well, the internet is full of people bitching about arsey staff and the like but from my personal experience this is utter cobblers. Sure, they're not the most talkative bunch but they're some way from the snobbery of 'High Fidelity'. In addition, as a result of Fopp opening in the city about over six years ago, prices altered. When Fopp's popularity was at a peak in the city, Selectadisc figured that they could be a little bit more competitive and, from that moment on, they regained the title of 'Best Record Shop in Nottingham'. Back catalogue is regularly no more than 8.99 on CD, with a lot of mid-price titles at 4.99 or less. New releases are very competitively priced and their vinyl stocks cannot be rivaled for many miles around. Where they stand out from many indie stores is their refusal to treat vinyl buyers as mugs and use scarcity as a reason to hike prices. They are regularly a couple of quid cheaper than any other sources on new vinyl and bloody quick at getting hold of import copies of select, splendid titles.

The main plus point for this lot is their excellent stock. Great prices, sensible organisation and atmosphere are added bonuses. Music fans who have lived in Nottingham at some point in their lives always seem to remember Selectadisc, and always seem to rave about it. You can count me in that group.

Gutted.

Including the brief collection of posts from previous years, this is this blog's 100th post. However, after the news I got today, I'm in no mood for a celebration.
I figured it would be more economically sound to purchase the new album by The Coral via my local indie store, Reveal Records, rather than from the online indie I use for bits and bobs, as I wanted the double vinyl edition, which can nuke your postage. A couple of weeks back, my local indie appeared to be a little thin on new releases and my suspicions were aroused. I was reassured that the titles I was after were just out of stock, although it was suggested that it was unlikely they'd be getting any more in. As I wandered off, I assumed that these records were simply more limited than I'd thought. However, today's discovery puts that in a very different context.
Anyhoo, in I wander, looking at the new release racks just inside the door to see what was available. My heart sank. Nothing had changed in the two weeks since I'd last been in. To confirm my worst fears, any number of items had been reduced or rolled into an offer of one kind or another. It's not significant cheapness, I hasten to add, but the first signs that things aren't what they used to be. As it was, I left with four albums I had no intention of purchasing when I went in, but no sign of The Coral. After a lengthy chat with 'nice man behind the counter', I found out that my favourite record shop - and by this I mean in the whole of the UK - has about six months left on this planet of ours. The usual suspects were blamed - Amazon, downloads, supermarkets - and it was clear that the climate has changed. Where a few years back a major indie release like The Killers or Kaiser Chiefs would shift 100 copies in a couple of days, now it's more like 25. No great surprise with supermarkets like Morrisons knocking out said Kaiser Chiefs album at £6.99 in its first week of release. It reminded me of a recent news story about independent bookshops sending their staff round to Asda on the day the Harry Potter book came out to buy it for a fiver, for them to sell it on at twice the price in order to even compete.
I've been frequenting this store for three years now, and have been anything other than wholly satisfied with each visit, often spending considerably more than I'd intended to do, as a result of their 'now playing' ledge or their competitive deals. Where the fuck will I get mint condition, decent priced Tom Waits limited editions from on rainy Thursday evenings in November now? They're not intending to get new stock in from here until doomsday and so the shop will gradually reduce its stock over the coming months, presumably via discounting and deals.
Is it wrong to feel so down about this? Probably, I'm sure, but it isn't going to stop me. Four years ago, the record shop that took up much of my teenage years, and money, shut up shop for good, and now the adult equivalent is on its way too. I love to flick through the racks, taking a punt on a staff recommendation, or being drawn in by a unique album cover. As expensive as it has often been, I like being drawn into buying a second album because the one I want is in a 2 for £18 promotion. On top of all of this, Reveal Records have the best staff of any record shop I've ever been in, but still they've closing down. They're music-lovers, first and foremost. There's none of the 'High Fidelity' style snobbery, and they'll give you honest opinions about the music you're considering shelling out your hard earned cash on. I've lost count of the great records I've picked up in that shop, although one that springs to mind is Dan Arborise's 'Around In Circles', which was my album of the year back over on the old VJ site. A euphoric yet understated acoustic masterpiece, I'd never have even known it was out there if it hadn't happened to have been playing when I went in, almost a year ago to this day.
I'm sure this post is hugely self-indulgent and not especially coherent, but I'm fucked off because I'm going to lose a, perhaps embarrassingly, big part of my everyday life when this shop closes. Having seen this shop appear to buck the trend of failing indies in recent years, I now feel like I must simply accept what is there in front of me. We are seeing the end of record shops as we know them. The constant desertion of Berwick Street in London, once filled with quality record shops, the familiar sight of indie stores with the shutters down nationwide is now the norm. I get the feeling there aren't many people who care about this, and that's fair enough, but for me it's a massive blow. I should probably finish with something sincere and concise, but I can't think of anything right now, I'm too grumpy.