Record shops part 2
London record shops RIP: Dub Vendor remembered
There was a time when Notting Hill meant more than Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. When the major local struggle was how Britain treated its Black population and not who sells the best latte. This area was not called the Front Line for nothing. It was testament to the resilience, creativity and energy of African-Caribbean culture in London.
Lee Perry rarities
One of the more endurable aspects of this cultural shift was Dub Vendor, the well-established reggae and dance music shop in Ladbroke Grove. It opened in a booth next to the station , later moving to larger premises on the other side of the road. I mostly knew the kiosk where I would buy some rare Lee Perry track from some very knowledgeable expert. There would always be a group of guys listening to the latest pre from Jamaica. The atmosphere was chilled but the music was hot.
Now it has gone. There is still a Dub Vendor in Clapham Junction, but it's a sign of the changing face of the area from a multi-cultural hotspot to a younger person’s Knightsbridge. On the fiftieth anniversary of the Notting Hill Riots, it seems as if a symbol of the Caribbean contribution to the vitality of this part of London has gone. Dub Vendor’s reggae tracks had real roots, community roots.
London record shops RIP: Second hand record shacks
Alan Dein has a few fond memories of those vinyl treasure troves you used to find near Tube stations
It's the early 1980s and I'm walking down Station Road twoards Finchley Central station. On the left hand side, just before the entrance, is a white shack stuffed with second-hand records, mainly 45s. Can't remember the name of the tiny shop at all. The guy that owned it was well into his psychedelia - he was still living it really and well before any kind of mainstream revival. I remember that he had the LP cover of the New Vaudeville Band's Finchely Central in the window, which was of course, perfectly appropriate.
Looking back now, there were quite a number of these shack-cum-shops next to suburban Tube or rail stations selling second hand records. There was also one on the Archway Road by Highgate Tube station. I discovered some good stuff there. They stored 45s by label rather than artist or genre, with what seemed like entire mint-condidtion runs of 60s labels like Atlantic, Chapter One or Fontana - oh, for a time machine to return with that inevitable wider knowledge of music that I've picked up over the decades.
It's nice to recall these long-lost signposts of our musical hertiage, which were owned by geezers who loved their sounds, and who were trying to pick up a few bob to fuel their hobby. But their disappearance is just part of the stomp of the iron heel of generic blandness chucking up another nail bar.
Did anybody bother to photograph these places?
London record shops RIP: Reckless Records remembered
I
recently heard of the closure of
Reckless Records. Reckless were a chain of purchase and exchange shops
for
records and CDs. They had two branches initially, in Berwick Street
in Soho and in Upper Street, Islington. I always liked them because
although
they could be a bit picky on the exchange side they always seemed to
have an
interesting and eclectic selection. The last record I bought there was
an
American album of Sussex folk songs. They were also refreshingly free
of the sullen, cultish attitude I found at Tape and Record Exchange,
their main rivals. The
staff were friendly, humorous and helpful.
Time's up, pop pickers
Things seemed to be looking up and they bought a third shop in Camden Town. This was between Camden Station and Mornington Crescent and was never busy so closed down. This was followed by the Islington branch whose site still bears the Reckless signage and looks in a sorry state. Finally, the Berwick Street shop closed, but luckily it's been repalaced by Revival Records.
Yes, I know that with the advent of the iPod and
MP3 the record shop is unnecessary, but we stand to lose personal contact and
purchasing in a spontaneous and unpremeditated fashion. Oh well, pop pickers, that’s
showbiz!
Read about more lost retail favourites in Record shops
