This morning, I was telling Debz about when I used to open on the fairground at Caversham in the summertime, I used to spend an inordinate amount of time buying records from two places, A second-hand shop called, ‘Serendipity’ which was along the parade of shops near Caversham bridge and a record shop in the town called ‘Pop Records.’
Back in the 1980s when I used to frequent these shops, you could buy oldies (1950s and 60s) for 20p each in these shops. And because they were so cheap, I would take advantage. I remember in 1984 spending £100 on oldies singles out of the Pop Records shop.
I used to walk back onto the fairground carrying armfuls of records. Not rubbish ones either. I bought so many classic singles. Some I remember buying were Mama’s & The Papas, ‘Creeque Alley,’ Ricky Nelson’s, ‘Travellin’ Man,’ and The Supremes, ‘There’s No Stoppin’ Us Now.’
I can remember walking back on to the ground with a pile of records and Georgie Traylen, who was 20 years older than me laughing, and after looking through what I’d bought, telling me that I’d been born 20 years too late!
But that was part of the fun, trawling through record shops, hunting down records. I could spend hours in a record shop flicking through LP covers to see what was interesting and rifling through the singles searching for the hits I’d missed.
It was something I’d started years before.
I don’t remember, but I’ve been told often that when I was three, Alf Silver, a jewish man that used to sell lighting to fairgrounds, took me to a record shop and bought me The Beatles’, ‘I Want To Hold Your Hand. I was three at the time and already had my own record player.
Ride owners on the fairgrounds knew my love of music and were giving me the records that they were replacing with new ones, so I had a record collection of my own at a very young age.
Sadly, I really don’t remember any of this. In fact, I was 6 before I remember buying my first LP. I had some money for my 6th Birthday at the end of July, and The Beatles released their album, ‘Revolver’ just a few days later and I can remember buying it.
At the time, my parents had an Amusement Arcade in the Somerset town of Burnham-on-Sea and the records shop I bought that album and many more from was called Jotchams.
Jotchams was an odd little record shop, because it was an add-on to a sport shop. You had to walk into the sport shop and then turn left, walk through an archway and into the record shop.
Buying the ‘Revolver’ album was just the start for me and over the next ten years, it was the main record shop I’d buy my records from.
A few months after that first purchase, the first single I remembered buying myself was Eddie Floyd’s, ‘Knock On Wood.’
We moved away from Burnham at the beginning of 1977 and from then on, I was a frequent visitor to record shops around the country.
It was from Weymouth in 1977, I caught a train to London specifically to buy a 12” import single from a record shop as I’d never have been able to get it locally. It was Roy Ayers’, ‘Running Away.’
It wasn’t the first 12” single I bought, that honour went to T-Connection’s, ‘Do What You Wanna Do’ but the reason I remember that import was because it cost me £5.99. It only cost me £3.99 for the return train fare at the time!
Along the way, other record shops became places of note for me. Rainbow Records at Ashford, The Music Box in Staines, Jay’s Records in Cambridge, Bluebird Records in Luton and so many more that I went to on my travels.
More recently, a few years back, Black Barn Records in Cambridge was another place to pick up some great bargains, but like so many other record shops, it’s now gone.
Like so many other people, I don’t really buy records anymore. On the odd occasion, I’ll spot something I want in a Charity Shop – normally old albums that my Dad once had that I hated at the time, but 40 years later, feel nostalgic about and so buy them and add them to my collection for no other reason than I’m nostalgic.
It’s all changed now of course, Although records have had a recent resurgence, they’re now too expensive to buy new for the most part. CDs are on their way out and also often seen most in Charity Shops or Car Boot Sales.
I’m grateful that I was born in that period when vinyl was king and I’d get to spend hours searching the racks.
Nowadays, it’s all mp3s and streaming.
Don’t get me wrong, I love mp3s. It’s made it possible to carry thousands of songs and tunes with me. They’re convenient and it’s easy to find what I’m looking for. I still buy record and CDs but the only time they get played is when they’re converted to mp3 and then they just sit on the shelf and it’s all too much effort when I can just push a button and I can hear whatever I want to.
I understand that the sound doesn’t sound as rich as a record would because of compression, but to be honest, my hearing’s not good enough to tell the difference these days.
And yes, I know it’s easy to just ‘Ask Alexa’ and you can hear what you want for pretty much nothing, but you no longer own your music anymore and when the company you stream from doesn’t have what you want you’ve just go to do without.
I also realise that it’s easier these days to get all of the music you want, but I feel sorry for all those people that have never had the joy of walking into a record shop and hearing a song they’ve never heard before that was just so good that you wanted that copy that was playing because it was the last one they had.
That happened to me in October 1977 in a record shop in Newbury when I heard the instrumental intro to Lenny William’s. ‘Shoo-Doo-Fu-Fu-Ohh’ and told the guy behind the counter I wanted it.
And the hours I spent looking through record racks searching for records I wanted. I was such a regular in The Music Box in Staines, that the owner would keep records back that he thought I’d want to buy and each time I went in, he’d have a pile for me to look through and listen to and usually end up buying 80% of them.
Sadly, the way we buy music has now changed and so many people will miss out on ordering a record before it’s released and waking up on the day, knowing you’d be going to collect it, like I did in 1976 when I got to go into Jotcham’s and get my copy of Stevie Wonder’s, ‘Songs In The Key Of Life,’ and rushing home to play that first song on side one. And knowing 20 seconds into ‘Love’s In Need Of Love Today,’ that I was going to love that song forever.
Today that album is still my favourite album of all time, and I remember walking out of the shop with the record in a Jotcham’s record bag and I can vividly recall how hearing that album with the free EP single and the joy I felt.
There was nothing like a record shop. The hours of joy I’ve had in them over the years will never be surpassed by going online and downloading an album, no matter how convenient it is.
And I doubt that on a Saturday, you’ll be chatting with your mates as you’re looking at your phone searching Spotify for something to listen to.
Because when we had record shops, I’d see my mates looking for their likes and you’d see the big grin on their faces as they pulled that record they wanted from the racks as you asked them what they’d found.
Record shops...the only shops I was ever interested in. The places where I could spend hours finding the songs and albums of my life.
Mind you, I’d have more money today had I never entered those hallowed havens of musical bliss!
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