The Record Collector, Part II

(Second in the series. Next up, Repo Records, also on South Street.)

Since I really began paying attention to what I was getting myself into, I recall Repo being one of my favorite record stores to frequent. Back in high school I was mightily into pop-punk and Repo was my mecca offering me the entire catalogue from every small punk band in Orange County. The music playing was always punk, usually some riotous NYCHC or ’79 influenced kids that couldn’t play. I bought plenty an album from here from All to Agent Orange to the Ataris’ EP on Fat Wreck (not that bad!). Of course, over time, as happens with many others, my tastes gradually evolved to still like the noisy and obnoxious (albeit, punk’s structures got tiresome so developed noise took its place), but also embrace the soft and delightful. In short, I fell in love with the Dismemberment Plan my senior year in high school, became a DJ my freshman year for my college’s radio station and began my pretentious journey into the world of indie rock and its surrounding sub-headings.

I’ve continually visited Repo throughout my years of high school, college, and beyond, and a strange thing has happened. Repo has almost followed my musical maturation (or I followed its?). Gone is the punk rock on the store’s monitors and, in its place, today’s NOW That’s What I Call Indie. The punks that frequented the store must have grown up and realized the genre’s limitations and the store has adapted to the change.

Although the records they play are different, the actual store hasn’t changed that much. The punk racks are still in the front of the store, but pared down to only one rather than two. The other CD rack is indie/rock/avant/everything else. Move to the back and you’ll see the vinyl racks, which are relatively new and generously expanded. They’ve got tons of new and used records, way too much to wade through without a spare hour, but they do have some wonderful finds. Repo is a great place to look for something that Spaceboy doesn’t have. It’s also deceptive in its size, consisting of only two 15’x15’ rooms they pack a ton of LPs, CDs and 7” in there.

Repo’s staff is probably one of the best I’ve ever encountered. Rather than act stuffy and snobby about the music they sell, they generally seem excited to share with you the music that they love. I recall the summer I got my record player I picked up Godspeed You Black Emperor’s Lift Your Skinny Fists Like Antennas to Heaven. The clerk, a young indie girl, proceeded to share with me some records I might like if I like that one. In all of my years of going to record stores, this was the only time a store clerk went out of their way, without me asking, to recommend some music to me and walk out behind their bench to show me where it was located and talk about what it sounded like. Must be that punk rock inclusive spirit, rather than the indie exclusivity. (Also, funny aside: I had eaten a fried-onion cheesesteak earlier which made me beef and it stunk up the whole store. I was the only customer in there. Fucking embarrassing.)

Repo’s main flaw is its new music section. You have to actually ask for the record you want, if it’s new. This is a terrible idea for the impulse buyer, such as myself. I can’t always remember which new records are currently available. They don’t put them in plain view and they don’t put them with the other, older records. Change that, if anything.

Obviously, I’ve got a lot of memories tied to Repo Records, but for good reason. For all its dilapidated features inside and out, the punk rock spirit and indie record selection make for a great shop. The store has grown with a trajectory similar to my tastes and I’m sure the shitty green awning hiding on South Street will continue to make chills run down my spine. Oh the possibilities!

What I bought:

- Can: Monster Movie
- John Fahey: John Fahey Plays Blind Joe Death LP
- Man or Astroman? 7”
- The Locust 7”