If there is one thing that record collectors have a reputation for, it’s being pretentious assholes.
There is just so much to be pretentious about, so many things that make record collectors better than you, so many reasons that what they do is more important than what you do. Despite what you casual collectors may think, this isn’t a hobby, it is a lifestyle.
The true collectors don’t just collect records. They collect vintage audio equipment. They drink scotch, scoff at your instant coffee, snicker at your Spotify playlist, and sneer at your AirPods. Music isn’t meant to be listened to and enjoyed, it is meant to be understood, appreciated, and preserved. Liking music isn’t enough. Physical music needs to be protected at all costs.
Not fans, not collectors – guardians.
Of course, this is self-sabotaging for those who claim to be the keepers of physical music. You know, the good folk doing all the important and difficult work of archiving Finnish folk albums from the 1970s. If they are so intent on protecting this music, I would think that it would behoove them to make it as accessible as possible so that people can listen to it and enjoy it and find a reason to protect it. Then again, not everyone is worthy of such an undertaking.
Such is the attitude of the owner of LA’s The Record Collector, one of the oldest record stores in the United States and perhaps the oldest in LA. Recently, there was an interesting SFGate article about this pompous douche, that discussed his uhmm…philosophy on records and record collecting.
The Record Collector
At the Record Collector, owned by Sanders Chase, you are not allowed to browse for records.
Even entering the store with only a loose idea of what you are looking for is frowned upon at best. To be clear, when I say not allowed, there isn’t some cute sign saying no browsing or else, the way some places in Chicago say you have to eat outside if you put ketchup on your hotdog. This man will legitimately tell you to leave the store.
The reason? He isn’t here to sell a product, he is here to provide a service. Chase goes on to compare himself to a doctor, whom you would only go to for a specific purpose. Apparently, Chase has never heard of an annual check-up. To Chase this is not a record store, but a record archive. The fact that the records are for sale and the sale of these records is what allows him to keep the doors open is apparently beside the point.
Chase is the love child of Comic Book Guy and the Soup Nazi, but with records.
If Chase decides you are too stupid to appreciate and understand what you are buying, you are not welcome. Didn’t come into the store with a list of records you’re looking for? NO RECORDS FOR YOU!
This store is only for the most serious of collectors. What is a serious collector? You might ask. Well, it’s whatever Chase decides it is. I have to imagine that musical tastes factor in, and according to some of the Yelp reviews, skin color.
50 years of misery
Ok, so the store has a lot of rules, you might get yelled at, you might get berated and the owner might be racist, but what is the selection like?
Well, the owner is the worst of every record collector stereotype rolled into one big ball of misery, so the store obviously specializes in jazz and classical records because of course it does. But not just any jazz records, we are talking dusty, old, beat-up records with laughably high prices. The creme de la creme of overpriced shit. Oh, you’re looking for a Miles Davis record? Did you just learn about jazz yesterday? Here is a copy of Kind of Blue that sounds like a bowl of rice krispies, that’ll be $300.
Truly, the only redeeming value of this shop is reading the store’s Yelp and Google reviews, which are simply hilarious. Scroll long enough and you will see everything from people implying they are going to let their dog shit on the sidewalk in front of his store to people implying that they maybe sorta kinda want to lynch him a little bit. How this store has survived for over 50 years is truly a mystery.
Now What?
Ok so one of the oldest record stores in L.A. also represents everything wrong with record collectors, but where does that leave us?
Look, I’m young. Not that young but I’m still young, especially for someone who spends a great deal of their time talking about record collecting on the internet. Yes, more and more young people are collecting records and I’m not saying I’m the only one. But the age of the average record collector is still heavily skewed towards people who bought their first records in the 1980s rather than in 2014 like me.
I have always had a little brother type of feeling when collecting records. Like I’m playing video games with a controller that hasn’t been plugged in. There is an attitude that since I wasn’t there when this thing, this hobby, was in its prime, I can’t truly appreciate it. I can’t truly understand it. Record store snobbery is nothing new, there is an entire movie about it after all. My issue is that it’s still so prevalent, maybe more prevalent than ever.
Has record snobbery always been this bad? I suppose I’m not the person that can answer that question. To me, records have always been a bit of a novelty. Something that is ultimately unnecessary. There is not a single record in my collection that I can not listen to more conveniently and cheaper with the use of my phone or computer. They have always been, at least partly, about aesthetics. I don’t know what I would do with the north wall of my apartment if it didn’t house my turntable and record collection.
Of course, aesthetics aren’t the whole point.
What’s the Point?
It’s easy to scroll through Instagram and see dozens of photos of Tyler the Creator’s Igor or any number of Pink Floyd albums framed and neatly organized on someone’s bedroom wall and think “Are these people even listening to their records?” The truth is that those people probably aren’t and that they view records as a sort of banner for all things hip, a way to signal to their followers that they’re into cool stuff and that they think the music on the radio is lame and uninspiring. Annoying? Maybe a little bit, but are we really going to pretend that what we see on social media is suddenly indicative of real life?
The average record collector isn’t posting retro-tinted photos of their record collection, they’re just listening to it. Just because there are people collecting records so they can fill their feeds with cool pictures doesn’t mean that this is what the average record collector does.
There will always be people who are more interested in being seen doing something than actually doing it. This is especially true for records.
People buy records for different reasons. Despite what the good folks at the Record Collector would have you think there is no wrong way to buy records. There are no records that “everyone should own” there aren’t any records that no one should own.
Gatekeeping records and mocking people for the records they buy, where they buy them or why they buy them is just snobbery.
Records are music and music is for everyone.