Record Shop Love:
Dean Chalkley visits
House Of Oldies, NYC

It was for this site's Record Shops pages that regular Get Involved DJ and ace photographer,
Dean Chalkley took the above shot of the front of the House Of Oldies in Manhattan... But Dean came back with more than just one image of the shopfront...

"As you approach House of Oldies you know you’re going to be in for a real treat," says photographer and vinyl junkie Dean Chalkley. "The window has faded album covers stuck to it and a large sign proclaiming ‘No CDs. No tapes. Just Records'. The place looks cool."
"I've actually been to this shop many times over the past few years and every time I have always walked away with a few gems to pack carefully to take back home. It's not the cheapest place to buy vintage vinyl, but the experience of going there is great."
"As soon as you walk through the door you’re confronted by a vast selection of albums and the rows of carefully filed singles that stretch the entire length/depth of the shop. But but the best thing to do is to take a list to this shop as although the albums are there for you to rummage through, to get your grubby record-hungry mits on the singles is a different story..."
"The owner Bob Abramson is a great character he’ll be at the rear of the shop tucked behind the counter with his baseball hat and glasses on , he’s a real new Yorker, initially you might think he’s frosty but he isn’t at all I suspect he’s been ‘round the block’ a few times and seen all sorts. He kind of reminds me of Harvey Keitel in the film Smoke."
"Anyway, if you want 45’s you have to ask Bob for what you want and he will know, within a flash, if he has it or not and then either go straight to the right section on the wall of singles behind the counter, or disappear for a minute into his basement, and come back with your gold in his clutch."

"He used to have a fantasic system where he would call down to the basement and then as if by magic two trap doors would fly open and the record would emerge pegged to a improvised clothes line pully system. Sadly this Heath Robinson wonder system no longer exists as he had to let the cellar guy go. Shame."

"He told me that some years ago two english guys came in and he allowed them to look through his cellar stock. However, they totally messed his system up and it took him years to get everything back in order. They spent $10,000 though. Blimey, I wonder if this is a myth or if they stumbled upon a gold mine..."
"On this most recent visit I felt really honoured when Bob asked me if I’d like to look at some of his fresh stock of albums in his cellar. Obviously, I jumped at the chance and followed him down to the vault. It was amazing: 40,000 singles (at least) filled the rows and rows of shelves that fill the basement. The aisles were so tightly packed, with no more than about two feet separating the shelves, that you could baerly bend down to look at the lower levels. Despite the strip lighting, the amount of shelves meant it was dark and a bit musty, but super still and calm, with just the slight creaks of the floorboards from the record shop above. This was the cellar guy's domain. I saw where the cellar guy would have been! Spooky."

"I couldn’t resist, I had to take these pictures to celebrate this wonder."

"And this one of Bob outside the shop!"
More record shop adventures with Dean Chalkley soon...
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Record Shop Love: Ali Augur & Spencer Murphy celebrate Soho's independent record emporiums...

A look inside Harold Moores Records: One of a series of eight portraits shot by Spencer Murphy
Whether from rapacious property developers or the internet, the independent record shops of London's Soho are under threat. Barely a month goes by without another one disappearing. Designer Ali Augur and photographer Spencer Murphy decided to document these musical treasure troves and their owners before they become a distant memory.
Independent: A Celebration of Soho’s Independent Record Shops, is an exhibition which ran in London's Soho in May 2008. The show’s main focus is a series of eight photographic portraits of record shop owners in situ in their shops - from junglist hero Nicky Blackmarket at BM Soho to Harold Moores Records> - taken by Murphy, although it was Augur who kickstarted the project.

Another shot of the interior of Harold Moores Records
“It all started when I first heard the lyrics of Earl Zinger’s Saturday Morning Rush,” explains Augur. Zinger's track describes in glorious detail the journey of an obsessive vinylphile as he rushes around London, from shop to shop on a Saturday morning trying, increasingly desperately, to get a copy of the latest hot release, before rushing home so he can get ready to go to a wedding. "The track came out around the time I was doing flyers for Plastic People in 2002," Augur continues, "and I knew all the record shops mentioned in the song so listening to it conjured up vivid imagery. It made me really aware that things were changing as some of the shops were disappearing practically as soon as the record was released. Things change so quickly, blink and you’ll miss it and I’m really interested in that.
"So I thought - I’m going to illustrate the lyrics to that track and I contacted Rob (Earl Zinger) Gallagher and he was really up for it. Even at the time there was an air of threat over some of the shops like Atlas and Release The Groove and everyone was having a bit of a tough time. But I didn’t get round to doing it. I kicked myself every time I heard something was changing, a shop was closing. Shit, that moment has gone. I didn’t do anything about it but then, when Reckless Records on Berwick Street shut, about a year ago, that’s when I thought - 'I can still do something, there’s still time'."

Interior of Sister Ray on Berwick Street
Through his contacts in advertising and at Bartle Bogle Hegarty, where he works as a designer, Augur contacted photographer Spencer Murphy who was up for getting involved. "I took two days holiday from work," says Augur, "Spencer took time out, borrowed equipment and we approached the shops and decided to do eight. We could have done more but decided to keep the project within the geographical marker of Soho. We shot eight portraits in two and a half days last December."

Portrait of junglist Nicky Blackmarket inside BM Soho
While Augur art directed the shoots, he admits he didn't have much to do. "The guys in the shots were naturally framed because there’s something in front of them (the shop front in most cases), they’re surrounded by their stuff and so from an art direction perspective, it really was very easy! I was half expecting some of the shots not to work - but they all did. Working with Spencer on this was amazing."
Augur has also created a set of limited edition posters, which are folded and housed in a seven inch card sleeve, numbered and stamped on the back in an edition of 400. "I took a lot of time out to get the posters right. [Printers] Quadroprint did a great job too with it because the poster is folded in an unusual way, there’s a spot varnish, they made the seven inch sleeves too – and they made sure that the poster lined up perfectly with the circular hole in the card sleeve."

Ali Augur designed a folding poster that includes all the photography and an introduction to the project by Time Out's Cyrus Shahrad. Limited to 400 stamped and numbered editions the poster comes in a seven inch record sleeve
There is also a set of eight flyers - each one showing one of the eight portraits on one side and info about the exhibition on the reverse. Each flyer can be found in the relevant record shop. "This makes them collectible and hopefully will drive people to the other shops," he explains.

Note the logo for Snorkel on the above flyers. Snorkel is the collective enthusiasm of a group of people at ad agency BBH where Augur works - that includes Mark Reddy and Fred Uribe Mosquera. Its objective is to "develop interesting projects that hopefully stimulate and delight"
Since the shoot, two of the record shops have closed. "Mister CD shut down about three weeks after we were in the shop taking the shot – and then If Music closed about a month ago," Auger tells us. "Both shops are still trading online but the shops themselves are gone."

Sadly no more – one of the decks available for customers to use in If Records, which closed last month
"Actaully another thing happened a couple of months ago," adds Augur. "You know the bottom of Berwick Street, opposite Somerfields? That bottom corner has been demolished. It’s gone. We’ve got some photographs of that building but it's completely gone now. So while the project’s about six years late, it's incredible to think that since we took the shots, two of the shops have gone and the bottom of Berwick Street has disappeared. I’m really glad I finally got round to doing the project."

The old shop front of Deal Real records. Now the store is located at 3 Marlborough Court, just off Carnaby Street
Independent: A Celebration of Soho's Independent Record Shops runs from 16 – 24 May at 63 Broadwick Street, London W1
This story first appeared on the Creative Review blog.
