Last week I finally found myself being dragged kicking and screaming into the brave new digital world, David Bowie (my favourite artist), after a decade of silence suddenly decided to drop a new single. The first album I bought with my own money was a Bowie album and I have dutifully collected every major release from my local record store for the last 30+ years. I would rush home carrying my CD or vinyl like a giddy child and spend the next few hours listening to every note whilst pouring over the cover. This latest release however had none of that romance attached to it. For the first time in three decades there simply was no physical release to purchase. I logged on to iTunes, on my own, at 8am and clicked the download tab. A minute later I could hear my purchase floating out of the speakers but I couldn't touch it and I certainly couldn't file it away with the rest of my collection. Modern life is rubbish.
So you can appreciate where I am coming from - I'm romantic about my music, I'm old school - but I'm not really a luddite. It was easy and convenient from a customers point of view, just a bit hollow from a fans. The times have changed however and nothing I say will ever bring the good old days back. As long as people are *buying* their music I dont really mind what format they use - I'll always prefer my vinyl. Shortly after this damp squib of a shopping experience the news of HMV going into administration. Everyone began talking loudly about how the internet had finally killed the record shop ... but thats only half the story, as anyone who worked in a record shop will tell you the rot set in long before the internet became a genuine threat.
It seems the High Street is dead, the shop fronts act as little more than elaborate gravestones in most town centres. The only thing you might consider buying there now is a pasty and a cup of overpriced coffee. This is a sad fact for anyone of a certain age but what surprised me was the sentimental way people began to speak about HMV. There was much wailing and gnashing of teeth on the subject - Twitter was ablaze with regret and many music aficionados started recounting soft soliloquies about the last of the record shops dying. Well stop right there I say, let me tell you a little secret.
Nipper was a complete mongrel.
Forget about the curious little dog staring wistfully down the gramophone horn, I'm here to tell you that Nipper was in fact a vicious attack dog who ruthlessly savaged anyone who trod on his territory. It's territory being just about any market town that it decided to cock its leg on.
Aside from the tragic situation that the 4,000 odd shop workers and back-room staff found themselves in this week, the really terrible statistic embroiled in this HMV debacle is that 38% of all physical music media in the UK went through the tills of HMV. As the leash around Nippers neck suddenly reached the end of its tether it became clear that the loss of HMV as a sales portal was going to ruin a large part of the UK music industry. My sympathy doesn't lie with HMV however - theres a good reason why that chilling figure of 38% came about - make no mistake HMV made this bed.
Long before the internet took a hold of our lives the rot had already set in. Years ago in the 80's and early 90's most towns had at least one record shop. Most of the time that shop was a small 'Mom & Pop' shop that had roots in its community and a deep commitment to the culture it peddled. Record shops were where musicians met up, it was where the adverts to form a band were stuck to the wall with chewing gum, it was where a dedicated team of music nerds would help guide you through the many releases available each week and set you on a path to musical emancipation. Independent stores served their local community, the music industry ruefully dealt with these tiny and often obscure emporiums - but it was never going to last.
HMV (and their ilk), brought big business into the equation. With a chain of shops the major labels found life became much easier to deal with. The economy of scale, the simplification of distribution and money-spinning switch to CD's all began to combine into a perfect storm.
When HMV came to your town everything looked new and shiny (even the music), these shops were smart, they had metal racks, proper window displays and total backing from the major labels. With so many old school record shops being truly independent the likes of HMV could simply steam roll the competition.
Together the majors and the big chains began to slice up the music marketplace. Indie stores simply couldn't compete and HMV (especially), had a clear policy of undercutting their rivals and setting their own agenda. Label reps would often come into our shop and tacitly admit that they were fixing the charts in conjunction with HMV. To ensure a high chart position on the week of release they would literally give HMV boxes of records and CD's to flog on to the customer for 99p a pop. Smaller shops were forced to swallow their pride and raid the bargain bins of HMV just so they could afford to stock the newest releases. It would cost our shop £1.29 per unit to order (in bulk) the latest chart hits, yet HMV were getting it all for free? Of course once the song had charted the demand rose and the labels would make their money back - but not through the independents.
This behaviour had a number of unwanted side effects, shops began to close but perhaps more crucially the charts ceased to be taken seriously. HMV and co began to scramble the golden egg. The market became distorted and the number one spot became meaningless to a large proportion of the record buying public.
As the local shops began to drop like flies the very culture on which the industry was built on began to look paper thin. The indies briefly fought back by clubbing together to form 'The chain with no name' in an effort to counteract the policies of the big names. There was a short period when the term 'Indie music' actually meant something - HMV simply turned the phrase to their own advantage and began to use 'Indie' as a genre title. Even this valiant fight back was subverted and used against the smaller shops.
So the long slow decline began - accelerated by the arrival of the internet no doubt but even then a more inclusive and forward looking attitude could of saved the High Street. HMV didn't embrace the digital age, they scoffed at it for a while ... until it was too late. Having destroyed the competition they set about destroying themselves. HMV in it's later years was less of a music shop and more of a discount warehouse for cheap DVD's and, lets face it, utter tat. I'm surprised the stores didn't explode with irony as they were reduced to selling iPods in store. Like turkeys voting for christmas they totally lost sight of what was truly important. So now the fat lady has started to sing and an astonishing 38% of physical music sales became dependant on the now mangey mut of HMV. This wasn't an accident of fate - HMV worked hard to become top dog - and they did it by screwing the rest of retail over.
I went down to the sacred store
Where I'd heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn't play ...
Where I'd heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn't play ...
So much for old news though - the ship has sailed, we will never see a return to the good old days. There is some hope however. A good service still counts for something. While the sales of physical media are a fraction of what they were music still attracts true fanatics, fans that want an informed, high quality, bespoke music service. If there is one glimmer of hope in this mess it might just be the return of a few highly motivated specialist record shops. Even some of the old guard are still limping on! So if you care about this mortally wounded culture then get out there and start supporting the likes of Kristina Records Dalston, Jumbo Records in Leeds, Phonica in Soho and Vinyl Underground in Northampton. Theres a few dotted around the country and they will welcome sales by internet and post as readily as by footfall. Hell, they even pay their taxes here in a nod to the old school way of doing things.
No one will be sorrier than me to see the death of the High Street record shop - I worked in one for over a decade but I cant shed a tear for HMV. They were utter bastards back in the day. Mourn the loss of Massive, Avid, Selectadisc, Jelly Jam, Rounder, Hot Wax, Record Savings, Chalky's, Manic Hedgehog, Rays, Mole Jazz, Demand, Chockys Chewns, Uptown, Mr CD, Music Market, Movement and a whole host of others ... but don't spare a thought for the passing of the last bully standing.
Capitalism has no regard for culture and always eats itself in the long run.
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