Yes this is another R.I.P. post, even though the 40-year old hasn't passed away yet: not until the end of March.
The 40-year old in question being my favourite record shop, Selectadisc in Nottingham. I was passing through yesterday and was saddened to see a poster on the window displaying the news of its imminent demise.
I've been acquainted with the place for 25 years - and particularly during the 80s, it was an immensely exciting place to go to, a different world...a world in which I could lose myself for hours. Browsing through rack after rack of vinyl: sometimes in pursuit of something obscure but sought-after, sometimes just to see what odd, weird and different bands and artists there were. Other times, browsing would be a secondary activity, my main focus being on what was blasting out over the speakers.
To choose an obvious example - for me, anyway - I'd already heard of The Fall, and heard a few tracks. But it was one Saturday morning in Selectadisc that their music effectively grabbed me by the scruff of the neck, demanded my attention: harsh, raw, clattering music at high volume with all sorts of splenetic invective being spat/shouted out in every direction by way of vocal delivery. Attack both in the sense of aggression and dynamics.
There are too many other such examples to mention. The place was simultaneously a haven, and somewhere thrillingly unsafe.
I had a browse through the remaining stocks of cd and vinyl yesterday, but left empty-handed. I wasn't going to buy something purely because it's the last opportunity I'll have to do so, as sad as it is. I also noted to myself, rather pointedly, that I've spent money on a couple of albums this week anyway....ones I've ordered on the internet.