#record hunter

[peterbuckmichaelstiperem4ever]

Record Hunter June 1993

[twonoteswivel]

David Byrne after leaving Talking Heads on ‘Record Hunter’, 1992

[soundofboston]

The Record Hunter: Planet Records

By Jenna Buckle

Harvard Square isn’t just a mecca for shopping, dining, and cute coffee shops — it’s also brimming with record stores, all within short walking distance. For the next few weeks, I’m going to be exploring the area in all its vinyl goodness. Why has Harvard Square managed to keep so many record stores afloat? How do these shops distinguish themselves from each other? Does the area cover all the bases for avid record hunters, or are there gaps in the market? I don’t have any answers for you right now. But hopefully, by the end of this stretch, I’ll be able to provide some insight into why this stop along the Red Line has been so attractive to vinyl sellers and consumers alike.

Let’s start with a place that’s already got it all figured out: Planet Records. From the minute you step inside, it’s apparent that Planet Records truly understands the vinyl buyer. This store has succeeded in “branding” itself like a boss, and all other record shops should take note. Walking into Planet Records is, quite literally, like roaming onto a planet made of records, and the shop is situated just far enough from the hustle and bustle of the heart of Harvard Square that it can adopt an eclectic, independent, and “on-the-fringes” mentality. In early 2012, Planet Records was doing so well that they moved from a tiny basement to their current address on 144 Mt. Auburn St., just a few blocks away. With this clean and spacious new location, it doesn’t look like they’re going anywhere any time soon.

Not to anyone’s surprise, the store is well stocked with used records from all the normal genres — rock, R&B, jazz, folk, classical, and electronic — as well as more recently released (but still used) records. It also offers a sizable collection of CDs, DVDs, artist box sets, and videos. Where Planet Records really excels, however, is on the experiential front. The interior decoration is colorful, quirky, and even comedic at times. Certificates from the “University of Vinyl” bestowing a Bachelor of Record Collecting degree? Check. Giant poster of a hamster? Check. There’s even merch stashed underneath the CD bins if you want to rock a Planet Records shirt on the daily.

While flipping through the store’s inventory (and simultaneously checking out the wall deco), I happened upon the record Tripper (2011) by Fruit Bats, an indie folk-rock band that has been making music for over a decade but hasn’t quite gotten the attention they deserve. With its soft, rambling tunes, Tripper isn’t an album that’s trying anything terribly new in the folk world. After a couple listens, though, the jaunty acoustic guitar, tinkling piano melodies, and occasional synth flourishes start to become infectious. Frontman Eric D. Johnson, who had a brief stint with the Shins from 2007 to 2011, clearly has a knack for writing pop hooks and breezy vocal lines.

And Planet Records clearly has a knack for shaping the vinyl shopping experience. The shop has managed to adjust to the modern day and age without losing the charm of an old-fashioned record store, striking a nearly perfect balance between sophistication and tongue-in-cheek humor. (Oh, and major bonus points for their epic write-up of the time Courtney Love visited their store and dropped $100 on a Gregorian Chant box set earlier this year.) Planet Records is a testament to the potential for record stores to be so much more than just a dusty time capsule, and it’s this type of innovation that’s going to drive the vinyl industry forward — against all odds.

[soundofboston]

Sound of Boston's First Magazine Issue

Well, we decided to try out a fresh face for Sound of Boston. We wanted to provide an aesthetic alternative to our music blog, and we've chosen to do that by creating a special digital magazine version of some of our content. This means you'll be able to hear what the Local Spotlight artist sounds like without leaving the page, see slideshows of photos from our latest concert reviews, and read all about our Record Hunter's latest adventures among the vinyl stacks - now all in a flashier format! Check it out here.

So what do you think? Like what you see? Wish we would stick to good ol' fashioned blogging? We'd love to hear your feedback - hit us up on Facebook or Twitter. 

[soundofboston]

The Record Hunter: Stereo Jack's

By Jenna Buckle

If you do a Google search for Stereo Jack’s Records, most of the results are headlines from 2011 about the store planning to close down to make room for a pizza joint. But don’t be deceived, folks. ‘Twas a false alarm — Stereo Jack’s is alive and kicking. When I dropped in this week, owner ‘Stereo Jack’ Woker was still seated behind the table across from the cash register, and smooth jazz sounds were streaming from the overhead speakers as if nothing had ever happened.

Just a short walk from the T-stop in Porter Square, Stereo Jack’s has been a staple of Cambridge for about three decades. Many locals were justifiably disappointed when the store announced it would be shutting its doors per the landlord’s orders; Stereo Jack’s has built up a reputation as being Boston’s premier destination for blues, jazz, and R&B records. Rest assured, though. Two years after the announcement, there’s no mediocre pizza shop in sight on 1686 Mass. Ave.

Instead, you’ll walk into a haven of more $1 records than you’ll ever know what to do with. Almost half of Stereo Jack’s inventory comprises rock, country, folk, jazz, and classical records that you can add to your personal collection for just a buck. Not only that, but everything else in the store is ridiculously cheap, and in good condition too. I’m talking $5 to $10 for anything from Cream to Thelonious Monk.  

My only caveat to you is this: Don’t make the trek to Stereo Jack’s if you’re looking for new releases. This is a store strictly stocked with the classics, so even the bins labeled “New Arrivals” aren’t going to satisfy your craving for the latest indie buzz bands. In fact, the only touch of modernity is the collection of $2 CDs lining the right side of the shop. (Which is good if you’re one of the two people who still buys CDs, I guess.)        

Regardless, the wide range of artists and titles available in the shop was overwhelming. I managed to find a record that for the past year I’ve been searching for — Joni Mitchell’s Song to a Seagull (1968) — modestly priced at $5 and its bright yellow cover just waiting to grace my bedroom shelving. Song to a Seagull, the singer-songwriter’s debut, is a classically tinged concept album divided into two parts: “I Came to the City” and “Out of the City and Down to the Seaside.” It’s often overshadowed by Mitchell’s 1971 magnum opus, Blue, but I’ve always thought it just as gorgeous and just as timeless. With her poetic imagery and intimate storytelling flowing from track to track and that sweet acoustic guitar bleeding into her supple, expressive vocals, the sentimentality of this record makes it a must-listen on vinyl. The simple change from digital to analog turns it into a sort of religious experience. By the time Mitchell starts to croon, “She’s so busy being free” on the album-closer “Cactus Tree,” I swear, you’ll feel like you’re flying.   

Overall, with washed-out vintage records adorning the walls and not much else to spice up the space, Stereo Jack’s could probably use some redecoration. It’s got that classic record store vibe, but it might need a little bit more oomph to draw in that coveted wave of younger music lovers. For now, though, ‘Stereo Jack’ seems content with where he’s at. As I was leaving, a man had just hauled in a cardboard box stuffed with hundreds of 45s, looking to sell them to the store. Jack gladly accepted.

[soundofboston]

The Record Hunter: Somerville Grooves

By Jenna Buckle

Boston’s a good place to be if you’re a vinyl junkie like I am. Despite what seems like an epidemic of record store closures across the country, this lovely city of ours has continued to boast a vibrant record store scene. Many local independent shops — from Cambridge to the Back Bay — have managed to stay in business amid hard times for the music distribution industry.

And the even better news? Vinyl appears to be back in vogue with the kids; vinyl record sales have increased by 17.7% in the past two years, the highest they’ve been since 1997. Even Whole Foods is selling records now. So, yes, you can pick up the new Daft Punk LP with your locally-grown-organic-gluten-free kale chips.

Whether you’re a veteran record collector, you’re looking to start, or you just want some new music to listen to, this is the series for you. Every week, I’ll be featuring a different record store in the Boston area, giving you the lowdown on each shop’s eccentricities, and highlighting some of my cool finds. Think of it as a grand tour of Boston, record store edition. Or, like, the Freedom Trail of Vinyl Records. Whatever works.

This week, to kick everything off, I visited Somerville Grooves— a quaint little record shop located in the middle of Somerville’s Union Square. The owner told me that he opened Grooves about two years ago, making it one of the newest additions to the Boston record scene. In a city like Somerville, whose “hip” status seems to escalate every day (clearly a cause for worry as of late), Grooves has fit right in among the plaid-shirt-wearing and bike-riding locals.

Grooves is a decently sized, well-organized store with a hearty selection of records from all genres, including rock, indie, R&B, reggae, electronic, and classical. You’ll mostly find a treasure trove of used LPs when browsing around, but the shop does offer a few bins of new vinyl near the register. It’s also definitely worth checking out the 45s tucked in the back corner of the space— among these are classic releases from the Stones, the Beatles, the Beach Boys, Talk Talk, and many more, if you’re willing to dig.

I was especially delighted by Grooves’ extensive collection of old rock records. After a good amount of crate surfing, I came across Buffalo Springfield’s second record, Buffalo Springfield Again (1967). This short-lived band — its most famous members being Neil Young and Stephen Stills — produced some of the most influential folk, country, and psychedelic rock of the late ‘60s. With an idyllic album cover that includes a butterfly and an angel and lots of charming greenery, their sophomore release is a velvety compilation of songs that feature a perfect balance of spunk and soul. I always prefer to listen to older albums on vinyl because the light static fuzz makes me feel all retro and cultured; for that reason, tracks from Again like “Bluebird” and “Broken Arrow” absolutely beg a spin on the turntable.

I’d also like to give a brief shout out to Grooves for carrying local-ish band Speedy Ortiz’s debut record, Major Arcana (2013). From Northampton, Mass., Speedy Ortiz came at us this year with a brand of ‘90s indie rock that evokes Nirvana and Pavement but manages to hold its own, especially with frontwoman Sadie Dupuis’ gusty vocals. Plus, the vinyl itself is a gorgeous shade of teal that you’ll probably just want to stare at all day.    

There’s really nothing else like wandering into a record store and stumbling upon your favorite albums in their purest physical form— Somerville Grooves knows this. The recent resurgence of vinyl bodes well for our beloved neighborhood record stores, and it’ll be interesting to see if any other new shops pop up in Boston á la Somerville Grooves. Because, as the owner said when I asked him about the vinyl market, the timing’s never been better.

[orakelkvinna]

DEAD.

Omg guys, you'll never guess what happened yesterday. So there's this record store in Stockholm called Record Hunter which I live pretty close to, so anyway my dad and I went in there to see if they had any Tallest man on earth posters and the dude that worked there said he had a couple left and walked away to see if he could find them, and while we were waiting, my dad was talking to one of the other dudes that worked there and he was going to call his boss to ask if he knew where the posters were and then he was like "Oh shit, haha, I almost called TMOE." And I was like "WAAAIIITT WHAT!? You have his number?" and he said that he had met him several times because he'd preformed in the store like three times. CAN YOU BELIEVE IT? I've stood on the same floor as TMOE has, asdfghjk. Dying. So sorry for waisting your time, BUT YEAAAH. OMG. Is this what you call fangirling?