Record Store Day: Garth Cartwright on the havens for vinyl fans

Music lovers Joisse Clamor and Ella Niles bying vinyl records at Sound of the Universe. / Photo / Quintina Valero

Today, June 12 is Record Store Day. London-based New Zealander Garth Cartwright on worshipping at the temple for music obsessives.

"Hi, I'm Garth and I'm a vinyl junkie ..." If a support group existed for those who found their lives overwhelmed by record collections, I'd attend a meeting. Although, truth be told, I'm not simply afflicted by a craving for vinyl. No, my disorder ranges further: I suffer more from a compulsive music addiction, purchasing not only LPs and 45s, but also 78s – yes, those fragile shellac artefacts from long, long ago – and CDs (those shiny, near-indestructible artefacts from our recent past). I even occasionally buy cassettes. When possible I head out to concerts several times a week and, during lockdown, watched online concerts and music documentaries. Inevitably, I read countless books and articles about music-related matters. And, just as those who share a religious faith tend to gather together, I find myself hovering around people who are happy to discuss music: new discoveries, old favourites, what-was-found-where? We even have our own nondenominational temple of sorts. It's called a record shop.

On June 12 my tribe can be found gathering outside our favourite "stores" because it's Record Store Day, all hoping to get our hands on some limited edition pressing of something or other. I know, consumerism gone mad. Unlike some addictions record collecting never leads to aggressive, anti-social behaviour and – if like me – you avoid online shopping, it's not even that expensive an addiction. But I do recognise I'm an obsessive – I've based holidays around visiting record shops (much to my other half's annoyance). Actually, a good deal of my travel centres around music – into the Balkans for Roma brass bands, Spain and southern France where there's strong flamenco traditions, Chicago and New Orleans' thriving blues and jazz traditions keep calling me back, while, locally, I've even gone to New Plymouth several times for Womad – and, whenever I'm in these locations, I seek out record shops.

Amber Sadhu-Gray buying vinyl records at Honest Jon's. Photo / Quintina Valero

My obsession with buying records began when I was a child in the 1970s – The Monkees' TV show (a US knockoff of The Beatles' movies) was being repeated on after-school TV. Enamoured, I wanted nothing more than a Monkees record. My dad, no fan of pop music, dutifully took me to Marbecks in Auckland's Queens Arcade. As with any great record shop, Marbecks kept deep stock: by then The Monkees had ignominiously split several years prior but a young Roger Marbeck listened to my request, then went and dug out a Monkees EP in a picture sleeve. It featured I'm A Believer and, as soon as this 7-inch 45 spun, I surely was: here, I realised, was real magic and the Monkees' EP immediately superseded all my toys. If records contained magic then record shops served as treasure chests stuffed full of wonder and delight and, while exploring the world, I've sought them out in the same way some travellers go in search of baroque churches or old master paintings.

I love record shops not simply because they sell me music – more they represent an underground empire trading in human happiness: bands and record labels are formed in them, knowledge is shared, friendships shaped, unknown pleasures discovered. The Beatles' manager Brian Epstein entered the music industry via managing NEMS, the most successful record shop in Liverpool: NEMS sold so many EMI releases that the label, valuing his business rather than his band's songs, signed Epstein's cheeky charges. Pretty much every reggae record label also operated a "record shack" - as did many of the singers: sell the new tunes fresh! The Cure and The Smiths both started out on indie labels operating out of London punk rock shops. From techno to dubstep, plenty of groundbreaking electronic music genres have been shaped by DJs working in dance music shops (and DJs love to dig in record shops to freshen up their playlists). Actually, record shops play such a pivotal role in British music history I wrote a book about such, Going For A Song: A Chronicle Of The UK Record Shop, in 2018. Here I told tall tales of the rise and fall of the UK record shop – Richard Branson opened his first Virgin record shop in 1972, earning his initial fortune running VAT scams from it (don't try it – he got caught).

Roger Marbeck. Photo / NZ Herald / Michael Craig

"Rise and fall" I wrote. Well, a decade or so ago it looked like game over for the record shop trade. Downloading from iTunes or listening for free on Youtube was the way the world now consumed music. The collapse of CD sales saw the world's largest chains of record shops – Virgin, Tower, HMV – all fold or drastically cut back while thousands of independent traders also closed. Record shops, it appeared, were following video rentals into obsolescence.

Then the vinyl revival happened: music lovers young and old started buying LPs and singles. Elders decided the look and sound of vinyl was preferable to CDs, while youths, many of whom had grown up listening to music on their phones, embraced vinyl's vintage vibe. With the likes of Spotify and YouTube serving the pop-loving public, surviving record shops could focus on catering to niche tastes. CD sales have continued to plummet but vinyl sales have skyrocketed - even albums previously released only on CD or digital download are now issued as LPs. So much so supermarkets started stocking chart LPs, niche vinyl clubs in the US and UK offer a monthly subscription service (delivering 3 LPs by new artists) and Discogs (the world's largest website for used records) list millions of trades. All fine and good but nothing matches going into a record shop.

On the 43th anniversary of the death of Elvis Presley, Sounds that Swing regular customer Nick Martin holds 50,000,000 Elvis Fans Can't Be Wrong LP, first released in 1959. Photo / Quintina Valero

Living in London, I witnessed the ruination-and-resurrection of record shops: as the 21st century dawned Piccadilly Circus' most impressive edifice was Tower Records, Europe's largest (three floors) record megastore, Oxford St served as home to HMV's first-ever store (opened 1921), while Soho boasted dozens of specialist shops. Tower and HMV would soon vacate their prime sites while Soho now has four traders. Yet from 2010 on new record shops began opening and where the West End has been gutted, East London now heaves with record shops (from Whitechapel to Walthamstow), many of them brilliant. The UK has always been a hub for record shops – the world's longest-serving, Spillers Records in Cardiff, opened in 1894 – and London is now the world's foremost record shop city. US metropolises once held this title but New York City and New Orleans, Chicago and Los Angeles, have all been decimated. These days Tokyo and Paris, Melbourne and Lisbon, all offer rich pickings but none come close to the sheer variety available in London. Which is why, when I wasn't in lockdown, I spent 2020 cycling around the city they call "the Smoke", with Spanish photojournalist Quintina Valero in tow.

Flashback Records employee Lorenzo Pereira models Raja Rani LP, London. Photo / Quintina Valero

The result is our new book, London's Record Shops. Celebrating the city's record shops that survived lockdown, LRS honours the new and the old. Anyone familiar with London will be happy to know Honest Jon's and Rough Trade remain Ladbroke Grove institutions, Camden Town's punk and rockabilly outlets continue, while reggae still rules Brixton.

When I returned to Auckland this summer my stay reinforced many things, not least how the city of sails is one of the world's finest for record shops. This might sound ridiculous considering there are only six emporiums in the CBD but, when you consider quality over quantity, the claim rings true.

It's possible to explore all the Auckland shops in a day (if determined), beginning first at New Zealand's oldest record shop. Down at the bottom of Queen St, in Queens Arcade, Marbecks still proudly offers a superb selection of new releases on LP and CD (and DVDs). Offering the only comprehensive classical department in New Zealand is a testimony to Marbecks' – established in 1934! - almost century-long dedication to musical excellence. They also have deep rock, pop, country, blues, jazz, rap and world sections. Plus a strong emphasis on New Zealand artists – Reb Fountain and Bernie Griffith albums are the purchases I made here.

At the very top of Queen St sits Real Groovy, New Zealand's largest and most celebrated record shop. Mixing new and used (emphasis on vinyl and a strong CD selection – alongside lots of books, T-shirts, DVDs, toys etc), Real Groovy, now nearly 40 years old, is undoubtedly the shop if you want to dig for vinyl treasure. Owner Chris Hart understood that Auckland needed a really big record shop so set about establishing such. No other trader in New Zealand imports anything comparable to the vast quantities of LPs and 45s Real Groovy gets in – using specialist US dealers they manage to source some really remarkable product – and what they have on offer (and the prices charged) ensure they match the best international shops.

Real Groovy on Queen St. Photo / Chris Gorman

I found an Ike & Tina Turner live LP from 1964 that I've long wanted, Dennis Coffey's Evolution LP, a Maori choir LP on Viking (once the foremost Kiwi independent label) and lots of R&B 45s. Dingbats, situated in the car park behind Real Groovy, is full of $10 (and less) used LPs/45s and definitely worth dipping into – my best buy here being an El Chicano LP for $4: lush Latin soul-jazz!

Up on Symonds St there's Southbound Records, a vinyl-only store specialising in new imports aimed at aficionados: Southbound is definitely the shop for LPs you are unlikely to find elsewhere – underground hip-hop, left-field jazz, West African and East European (the only time I've ever seen a copy of the classic Albanian album Wave Your Handkerchief At Me in New Zealand was here) and much else. Roger Liddle and Kerry Buchanan, two record shop lifers, work here and share a vast knowledge and enthusiasm for music: engaging in conversation with the "professors" who work in record shops is a blessing, they having guided me to many noted artists (and often largely unsung ones) – Grant McCallum, employed at Real Groovy for over 30 years, championed the likes of Townes Van Zandt and Billy Joe Shaver when few outside of Texas knew who they were.

Flying Out, on Pitt St (just off Karangahape Rd), also serves as home to the Flying Nun record label. This is appropriate considering Nun founder Roger Shepherd began the label while working in a Christchurch record shop. Flying Out offers all kinds of music (mostly on vinyl but also CD), championing independent Kiwi artists – often hosting free lunchtime concerts – so making it the place to stock up on all manner of local rock, experimental and singer-songwriters. Plus books, T-shirts etc. Me being me, I bought a couple of jazz 78s, a gospel 45 and the OMC LP.

Weary from all the walking I arrived at my final destination, Rebel Soul Records at 80 Ponsonby Rd. Rebel Soul is part of Search and Destroy vintage market and operates both at the entrance and upstairs. Run by gentle giant Tito Tafa, Rebel Soul stocks new and old LPs and 45s with an emphasis on soul, funk, rap, reggae, punk and garage rock. Amongst many things I purchased here was Heed The Call, a double LP compilation of Kiwi soul/disco artists from the 1970s (Dalvanius, Prince Tui Teka, Mark Williams, Tina Cross and more – talk about lost taonga!). Tito's often front of market DJ-ing – yes, customers are encouraged to have a go (just treat the records with respect!) - and the market serves superb toasties and coffee, both of which I needed after tramping around the CBD all day.

Tito Tafa, of Rebel Soul Records. Photo / NZ Herald / Alex Burton

Further afield there are other excellent record shops. The nation's northernmost record shop is Soundlounge in Kerikeri. Run by the very personable Noel Redmond, Soundlounge stocks a well-curated selection of CDs and LPs alongside musical instruments: on a Friday night local and visiting musicians gather here to play (all are welcome). I found The Holidaymakers' Sweet Lover 45 – one of my favourite homegrown No 1 hits – and a Ronnie Lane boxset. Redmond's health isn't great so he's hoping to find someone to take over the Soundlounge. If you fancy doing so, do reach out.

The world's southernmost record shop is Dunedin's Relics. Here new and used LPs and CDs display a striking understanding of what music connoisseurs might be interested in. Husband-and-wife proprietors Dave James and Irene Hundleby also opened Relics Hi-Fi in 2020 so to cater for the demand for stereo equipment – their shops sit next to one another and provide the deep south with great service. What did I find? Jazz LPs by Ron Carter and Miles Davis. Christchurch has Penny Lane Records, a spacious used-record shop that's so tough it survived the city's devastating earthquakes (and the first brought the ceiling down!). Here I found an LP by Sergio Mendes I had long wanted and a 78 by Johnny Cooper, the Māori country singer who would make the first Kiwi rock 'n' roll record. I've not yet visited Family Jewel Records in Nelson but, as its run by writer Grant Smithies and artist Josephine Cachemaille in the beer garden of the celebrated Free House pub, I certainly hope to do so.

Slow Boat Records on Cuba Mall is Wellington's longest serving – and best loved – record shop. Founded by local musician Dennis O'Brien in the mid-1980s, Slow Boat's hugely eclectic, full of new and used LPs, CDs, DVDs and more. Very much keyed into the local music community, it often hosts events – even Neil Finn's performed.

There are many other notable record shops across Aotearoa – Vegas Vinyl in Rotorua is scruffy and engaging (and has lots of Howard Morrison 45s). While in Thames a vintage shop sells wind-up gramophones alongside crates of $1 LPs marked "Vermin", "Sundry Losers" and "Lame Ass Records". If only all shops were so discerning.

London's Record Shops is published by The History Press.