The end of retail music by David Alder

 

The music store is dead. R.I.P. Over the last six years, the availability of free digital downloads has turned the music industry upside down, and thrust a stake into the heart of the good old "record" store. So be it, according to the media.

The truth is a little more complex. Everyone, from the downloader, to the labels, to the stores themselves, has played a part in the decline of the traditional music emporium that´s graced so many Main Streets for the past sixty years. If it weren't just about downloading, what else was a factor? And let's be honest, does it really matter?

Well, let's take a step back. To start with, the record store as an entity is not completely dead. From Austin to Portland, from Denver to our very own California Southland, a handful of amazing independent music stores still stand proud. These are stores run by folks who understand music. They know what´s worth spending your precious time on, and they also know what´s happening in their local music scene. What´s more, they don´t get drawn into the failings of the music industry. Instead, they just continue caring about music and their customers. It may sound completely out of step with the times of social networking, blogging, and band forums, but it must work. Otherwise these stores would have met the same fate as so many others before them.

Take Fingerprints, located in the heart of Long Beach, as an example. This is a store that opened in 1992 with the sole purpose of connecting people with music that they didn't know about. Its owner, Rand Foster, is never short of a recommendation. He, like his counterparts around the country, have survived through the good old retail practice of, gasp, offering good service. They employ staff who truly know about music, and are also approachable and personal. Stores like Fingerprints don't let the big record companies dictate what should be on their shelves, and they play a crucial part in breaking new bands. Their sales may be small relative to electronics retailers like Best Buy, or the big-boxes, led by Wal-Mart, but these guys are vital to the health of music. They function as the earliest indicators as to whether new bands will succeed or fail. Guys like Rand are the biggest risktakers in the music industry, as they decide to support acts who have no sales history. Their customers are the most discerning, and are prepared to risk their dollars on those same albums. These are the stores that the big labels and generic retailers watch to see what happens before making their next moves. This is where music begins.

Part of the reason that stores like Fingerprints are still very much in business is that their poorer quality competitors have gone away. Thousands of music stores have shut up shop since the industry´s most recent boom at the turn of the century. Numerous chains and independent stores have gone to the wall, leaving the cream of the crop intact.

The most recent and significant addition to the liquidation list was Tower Records, open for over 46 years. All 89 Tower Record stores, once located throughout the U.S., are now closed. Before their demise, I dropped by Tower´s stores in Seattle and San Diego, as well as the Sunset Strip branch, which was known worldwide. At each one, I was greeted by the sad sight of empty CD bins, visibly depressed staff members, and men carrying signs on poles proclaiming the imminent closure. The end finally came for Tower, as The Four Horsemen parked their steeds in the Sunset Strip's landmark lot, in front of the most iconic and memory-laden structures. It was a sad way to go for a brand that had so much heritage, and was, in its day, so powerful and exciting. Tower helped millions of people discover new music in a way that Best Buy could not imagine.

The media would have us believe that the tipping point has been reached, and the growth of digital music, pirated and paid-for, has hammered the nails into the coffin of the specialist music retailer. The thing is, this fate isn´t purely the result of consumers changing their purchasing patterns, and moving from CD's to downloads or streaming. It isn´t a Darwinian-like stage of evolution in entertainment formats in the way that the DVD replaced the video cassette, or the CD took the place of vinyl and tapes. In each of these cases, consumers caught on quickly, and the industry was fast to respond. (read the complete article in the print edition by subscribing)