Remember when Tower, HMV, and Virgin all opened here in New York, and it seemed like certain death for the local record store? Yes, most of our favorites did in fact shutter long ago, for many reasons (RIP Rocks in Your Head, original Bleecker Bob's, Second Coming, that place in Times Square with the fresh 12" rap singles, et al), but amazingly it was the megastores who ultimately crashed and burned, leaving the indies as the only ones still standing.
To celebrate the resiliency of the independents, the resurgence of vinyl, and the record geeks who've made it all possible, yesterday marked the seventh annual Record Store Day, when labels released exclusive, limited-pressing LPs, and fans started lining up well before dawn to snatch them up.
More than 20 NYC record stores participated in the worldwide event, mostly in the Village and parts of Brooklyn. At In Living Stereo on Great Jones Street, for example, there were live bands, free PBR all day. Lauren, who was first on line to get in, arrived at 4:20 in the morning to make sure she got the Cake box set (all seven studio albums, plus a previously unreleased live recording), among other coveted scores.
Public Enemy's It Takes A Nation of Millions To Hold Us Back with a hologram cover also went pretty quick, as did the Sky Ferreira picture disc (yes, it's the naked photo), and the Devo 7" single with Gates of Steel live on one side, a Flaming Lips cover of the same on the other. The Nick Cave action figure, however, had zero takers at press time.
A block away at Other Music, the line stretched around the corner and well up Lafayette, and the crowd in general seemed more hardcore in their geekery. The first crew on line here all arrived around midnight. The only one willing to speak about his desires once inside was Kristian, who was after the three cassette(!)-set of Heatmiser, Elliot Smith's early 1990s band. Other Music didn't organize its Record Store Day offerings in any way, giving a festive—if frantic—feel to the proceedings. Many of these early arrivers here dropped several hundred dollars on a pile of records.
Some stores, like Generation Records on Thompson Street, kept all of their Record Store Day releases behind the counter, so you simply ordered what you wanted from the clerks, using a (not terribly reliable) master list. Although this method may have been more efficient, it definitely seemed like a lot less fun. And over in Brooklyn, the not-really-an-indie Rough Trade hosted hundreds at a time for a day of concerts and crate-digging. Three hours after opening, the line to get in and buy was still well down North 9th.
