Lisnaholic |
10-06-2021 07:11 AM |
Quote:
Originally Posted by Guybrush
(Post 2187279)
Second hand record bins are trash collectors. Good picks disappear in an instant while the junk accumulates.
|
That's a neat assessment, Guybrush. You should've told me that 45 years ago, and cured me earlier of something I soon came to realize was a bad habit.
Quote:
Originally Posted by Trollheart
(Post 2187259)
Second hand shops used to be a great way to fill in gaps in your collection, or buy new music. There was one called Freebird (originally accessed via a winding staircase up, where local lads would slouch against the wall and ask for money, then later they relocated, ironically, to a basement, so you still had to use stairs, but this time down. No seekers after loose change though, as it was in a better part of town). Basement X was another one, a real basement, so dark you felt like you were going into like Santa's Grotto or something (hey I was young and didn't have that many references for dark places) - quite intimidating but also friendly. Best part about those shops was you could browse literally for hours and nobody would bother you with "can I help you", translation: "buy something or get the **** out, this isn't a library."
Also cool that they would, if you asked and they were in a good mood, preview a record for you, play it on their system, and even if you didn't like it and decided not to buy it, you got no hassle. I miss those shops. You could go in with about twenty quid and come back out with zero cash but a bag of maybe forty to fifty records. Sweet. And of course later if you needed money you could sell yours to them. They were a lot more picky about that though, and you got next to nothing for them, so it wasn't a road I went down much at all.
|
Interesting description of your second-hand record shops, TH.
The one in London that I most visited had a ground floor of popular/recent albums in good condition, then at the back, a tight staircase executed a U-turn into a poorly lit basement. There, the same layout, same categories as above, but this was like the "Stranger Things" other world side; no daylight, a basement smell like you're breathing in TB germs and when I saw the crumbly walls, an instinctive urge to touch as little as possible. I once stayed there long enough to get Neil Young's Decade anthology for the price of a pint, and was well pleased - partly with the 3-disc bargain, partly with relief to be back out in the sunny London street.
And that purchase reminds me that "lo-hi" existed for years before it became a style. It used to be the (musical) love that dare not speak its name: cheapskates playing scratched records on poor equipment.
|